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   Chapter 145 No.145

The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 5660

Updated: 2018-01-20 12:02

"I must say, you are driving me to new heights of creativity, " Azriel said.

Myranda opened her mouth to reply to the compliment, only to be stopped by an odd sinking feeling. She looked down to discover that the floor beneath her had turned to quicksand. She sank swiftly to her waist before she once again put the levitation spell to work. The sand held firm, but slowly she was beginning to pull herself free.

"Sandstone, " Azriel said audibly.

Instantly the sand was stone once more, and straining against it felt as though her legs, still encased within, would give far before the stone did. Azriel still had the pen in hand and approached the book to mark the failure. Myranda needed time. She threw up a wall of flame between Azriel and the pedestal. Azriel smirked and undid the spell, barely missing a step. Myranda focused her mind on the tremor spell. A few moments of shaking that threatened to turn her bones to powder shattered the stone of the floor. The pieces of rock fell away, as there was nothingness beneath them, but Myranda levitated herself up.

"Right, that is quite enough levitation for one day, " Azriel said.

Myranda dropped, grabbing onto the edge of the hole she'd made. She tried to levitate again, only to find that some spell--an enormously complicated one--was blocking her from doing so. Though she knew that with time she could break the spell, she had more pressing matters at hand.

The girl pulled herself out of the hole in the ground and bolted for the doorway. The chains of the drawbridge pulled taught as she approached, and the stones of the floor began to shoot up in front of her, forming bars as they had for her illusion earlier. Sh

The air carried the scent of her target as clear as day. As she followed it, the trees nearest to her withered and died.

Far ahead, Myranda moved--unseen but not unknown--through the thick woods of her own creation. Precious little sun made it through the leaves, a fact that made her feel all the better. As a minute ticked by, then another, the tiniest hint of a feeling of safety came over her. It was a feeling quickly dispelled when she heard the quiet swish of grass beneath feet other than her own. She looked about, trying to spot her hunter, but Azriel made the very sun in the sky sink below the horizon, replacing it with a moon with hardly the strength to allow more than a few rays to peek through the thick canopy. Silently, Myranda managed to climb the nearest tree.

In a lone spot of moonlight, she saw the flicker of a black lupine form, and she realized how she had been found. She conjured a wind from behind her hunter to carry the scent away, but it was too late. The branches of the tree closed in around her like a cage. The moon seemed to brighten, lighting the cleared path leading to the castle.

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