Chapter 8 - THE CRACKING OF THE WORLD
The wind tore at Elena’s cloak as she hauled herself hand over hand up the vertical face of the frozen cliff, her fingers digging desperately into the ice. Below her, the sounds of battle—the clash of steel, the roars of shifting wolves, the screams of the wounded—echoed up the gorge like a nightmare symphony.
As she pulled herself over the edge of the high plateau, the temperature dropped twenty degrees in a single heartbeat.
Standing around a jagged pillar of black obsidian were three robed figures, their hands raised toward the sky as dark, purple energy surged from the stone and shot straight up toward the snow-laden cornices hanging precariously over the pass.
One of the robed figures turned around. Beneath the hood flashed a pair of cold, fanatical eyes.
“Stop her!” the sorcerer shrieked.
A blast of dark magical energy whipped through the air, striking the ground inches from Elena’s feet and sending a shower of razor-sharp ice shards flying into her face. She stumbled, falling hard onto her knees, her hands scraping against the jagged stone.
Down in the pass, Ronin caught sight of her from the middle of the melee. His breath hitched in his throat.
“ELENA!” he roared, desperately trying to fight his way toward the cliff trail, but hundreds of raiders blocked his path.
On the plateau, the sorcerer raised his hands again, gathering a massive sphere of crackling purple lightning to obliterate the girl once and for all.
Something snapped inside Elena.
It wasn't fear. It was the ancient, dormant power of the Frostpine Keepers—the bloodline that had anchored the mountains before kings built their thrones.
Elena stood up slowly.
Her dark eyes flashed with brilliant, blinding gold light. The cream scarf around her wrist untied itself in the gale-force wind, streaming out behind her like a banner of pure light.
The sorcerer froze, his hands trembling as the dark energy in his palms began to destabilize. “What… what are you?!”
“I am the keeper of this mountain,” Elena whispered, her voice echoing across the entire canyon with the resonance of an avalanche.
She thrust both hands forward.
A wave of pure, golden-white heat erupted from her palms, slamming into the three sorcerers with the force of a tidal wave. The dark obsidian pillar shattered into a million glittering fragments, and the purple energy imploded, consuming the traitorous spellcasters in a flash of blinding white light.
Yet, the dark magic had already done its work.
A deep, groaning sound rumbled through the mountain.
CRACK.
The massive snow cornice above the pass gave way. Millions of tons of snow, ice, and rock began to detach from the cliff face, roaring down directly toward the narrow bottleneck where both armies were locked in combat.
“FALL BACK!” Ronin’s voice echoed in sheer, unadulterated terror. “AVALANCHE!”
There was nowhere to run. The wall of white death was descending too fast, threatening to crush the royal army and the southern raiders alike into the frozen earth.
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Elena stared at the descending avalanche. She raised her glowing hands toward the sky once more, pouring every ounce of her soul, her life-force, and her ancient blood into a single, desperate barrier.
A dome of brilliant, golden light expanded outward from where she stood, covering the entire pass just as the wall of snow slammed down upon the world.
