“You know,” said Ivel. “I think it's a little smaller.”
Chapter 13 — Deep Wounds. Mark of the Shadow — Book 1 of the Phantom Lord Saga.
Welcome to MARK OF THE SHADOW, an epic fantasy novel written by Oliver Evensen and Taryn Brewer. If you’re new here, you can start at the beginning, start right here, or get caught up with the Table of Contents.
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Tears poured down Nyra’s face as they raced through the dark of the tunnel, her sobs drowned out by the loud collapsing of stone all around them. Marzana was gone. Gone. Gone like Dornton. She couldn’t believe it. She’d known Marzana for as long as she’d known Dornton, and despite Marzana’s weak frame, she’d thought the creature would live forever.
“This way, this way!” Ned shouted.
Nyra sobbed into Ivel’s shoulder, before glancing over at Revilo, whom Ivel was holding over his other shoulder. His face was deathly pale, made paler still by the contrasting, red and black blood on his face. Had they lost already? If one of them died, could they really fulfill the prophecies of old?
Don’t think that way, she told herself. He’s not dead yet.
And you would know if he was.
Nyra pushed away the thought. She didn’t know how long they moved through the dark tunnel of the mountain. After what seemed like an eternity in the clammy darkness, a sliver of light appeared ahead.
“We’re almost there,” said Ned. “Hurry, everyone.”
With renewed urgency, the group powered through the remnants of the tunnel as the light at the end grew brighter and brighter as daylight spilled in. As they stepped out of the tunnel entrance, the cool air of the morning struck Nyra’s face, drying her tear stained cheeks. She looked out over the expanse before them. They had reached the other side of the mountain pass, and now the forest of Evenfall stretched out before them, dark and foreboding below. Just at the edge of the horizon, she could make out the plains just before Inkholme, though she could not see any indication of the city itself.
“Nyra, come here,” said Ned.
Ivel lowered Nyra down. She hastily scrubbed her face and joined Ned. Ivel lowered the pale Revilo down, and all three crowded around as Ned had pulled back Revilo’s shirt, exposing a dark, hideous wound that looked much like the gaping hole of the cave entrance. Nyra winced. Grondell’s dark magic traces were all over the wound, black and ugly.
“Do you think you can heal it?” asked Ned.
“I–I can try,” she said.
“Let’s move down first,” said Ned. “I don't need any of us rolling down this rocky pathway off the mountain.”
“Agreed,” said Ivel, peering down over the zigzagging pathway below.
They made the precarious climb down with a sense of urgency, Ned leading the way. They finally stopped near the base of the mountain, just at the edge of the forest. Evenfall had always been a place best avoided. Most travelers would try to go around if they could — fierce beasts lived within, remnants of the old days when magic was strong.It was even rumored that creatures from the time of the Phantom Lord lived within the foreboding eaves. No, it was a route best avoided, but there were paths, ancient and twisted, that would carry them to Inkholme far faster than any normal path ever could.
Nyra knelt down next to Revilo. His breaths were short and labored, as if a great weight pressed upon him. Nyra peeled back his shirt once more, staring at the gaping wound, which gazed back at her, like an eye. Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to turn away, and pull one of the many books she had in her bag.
Healing required use of light, water and air affinities, the one’s most opposite of Nyra’s power. Even if she was able to pull off healing spells correctly, they would leave her weary and exhausted.
“This will be difficult,” she muttered. “Without Marzana…”
Nyra paused as blinding tears blocked her vision once more.
Ned clapped a hand on her shoulder.
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