23. Amber

A second afterthe Abbot brings out his weapon, the other monks do so, too.

I grab my dagger from my weapons belt in a second, ready to strike.

Even though my focus remains on the Abbot, I see from the corner of my eye that the others are ready with their weapons, too.

Four supernaturals against nine monks.

Unless they have magic—which is possible—then we have the upper hand here.

"Just give us the crystals." My blade glows with magic, ready to fry anything in its path. But I don't move to attack. After all, these are monks—not shadow souls.

Then again, they brought out their weapons first.

And I don't care who or what someone is. If they bring out a weapon and threaten to attack me with it, I will fight back.

"You're going to leave our temple, one way or another." The Abbot prowls forward with his blade, the others moving in on us as well. "And I can promise you it won't be through that portal."

"I thought monks would be men of their word." I study him over the tip of my dagger, sizing him up. "But I also didn't think they carried weapons. Looks like I was wrong on both counts."

I exchange a nod with the others, and we launch our attack.

The monks are skilled, moving with a grace that makes it almost seem like they have air magic, avoiding our blades as we dodge theirs.

One of them launches himself at me, and sparks fly as metal meets metal, the sound echoing off the stone walls. I block his blows, using my free hand to aim a beam of sun magic at another monk coming at me from the side, seconds before his blade has a chance to slice through my arm.

Damien, using bursts of wind, disarms one of the monks, sending his blade skittering across the floor. He blasts another across the chamber, the monk's back hitting the wall with a deafening crack.

Morgan's fire burns brightly as it surrounds another monk like a helix.

His scream sends chills through my body as her flames eat away his flesh.

Blaze is off to the side, fighting three monks at once. His enspelled blade is a blur as it slices through skin and stops their weapons from getting anywhere close to touching him.

The others have themselves handled.

I need to focus on defending myself. Which, given the fact that the monks seemingly don't have magic, isn't hard.

The two I was fighting are on the ground, bleeding and broken in ways that will take months to heal. But, as I intended with the nature of my attacks, they're still alive.

Their blades are a few feet away from them, out of their reach, making them no longer threats.

The sounds of the fight slowly quiet down.

Then the Abbot screams from across the chamber, raises his weapon, and runs at me.

I channel my magic into a sun burst and send it directly at his hand holding his sword, hitting my mark perfectly.

He cries out in pain, drops the weapon, and suddenly Blaze is there, wrapping the Abbot in a headlock and pressing the edge of his blade against his neck.

Blood drips down from the cut, but it's not deep enough to be fatal.

The clangs of weapons die down to nothing. The air stills. Morgan's fire burns, but it's contained as a ball of dancing flames in her hand instead of snakes wrapped around another monk's body.

No more monks attack.

We're all simply standing here, frozen, as if one move will make Blaze slash his dagger across the Abbot's neck.

"This dagger is enspelled to make me undefeatable," Blaze says, keeping the Abbot tight in a headlock. "And, from the looks of your men here, I recommend against continuing to fight. Just bring us the rest of the crystals, and we'll get out of here."

The Abbot, his face pale, swallows hard and glances around at his men sprawled throughout the room. "Are any of you able to walk?" he asks them.

Four of the monks speak up, although they remain off at the sides of the chamber, their swords hanging by their sides.

"Good," the Abbot says. "Because I need two of you to go upstairs and fetch the remaining crystals."

Yes.

Victory.

"Sir." One of the less severely injured monks steps forward, thinking better of it when the fire ball in Morgan's hand grows bigger. "Are you sure?"

"There's a witch holding a dagger to my neck." The Abbot snarls, more blood trailing down his throat as Blaze's blade digs deeper. "Yes, I'm sure."

The monks take a moment to decide which of the two of them will go get the crystals. They select the least injured of the group, who swiftly make their way through the door and up the stairs.

"If they bring anything other than those crystals down with them, then you're dead," Blaze says in the Abbot's ear. "Understood?"

"Yes," the Abbot says, and I keep my eyes on the rest of the monks as we wait, ready to defend myself if they try anything.

Given that most of them are nursing broken bones and nasty burns, I doubt they'll attack again. But I also didn't think they'd whip ancient weapons out of their robes, so it's best to prepare for anything.

Finally, the monks return, one of them holding a small chest.

"Don't come any closer," Damien instructs them, as if the chest might contain a bomb. "Place it down where you are and open it."

They comply, setting the chest down by their feet. One of them flips the latch and opens the lid, revealing the amber crystals nestled inside, each emitting a pale, mesmerizing glow.

I exhale, relief and anticipation washing over me as I step forward to inspect the crystals.

Damien keeps a watchful eye on the monks, and Morgan's flames flicker menacingly, a silent but potent threat. Blaze, of course, keeps his blade pressed against the Abbot's neck.

The crystals look the same as the ones we were holding before. They call to me, and holding my dagger with one hand, I reach down and pick one up. It's the same weight as the others, and the same warm magic pulses from inside it.

Carefully, I return to my sun disc, crystal in hand.

The Abbot glares at me. "This is against the rules of the trial," he says.

"Then I guess we're making our own rules." I shrug and look to the others. "Let's try again?"

"How do we make sure these guys don't attack again while we try?" Blaze asks.

Damien scans the room, his gaze settling on the disarmed and wounded monks. "We'll tie them up and put their weapons in a pile at the other side of the room," he decides. "Use whatever you can find to hold them down. Ropes, belts, even torn pieces of cloth from their robes. We can't have them interrupting the trial."

Morgan springs into action, approaching the closest injured monk and using her dagger to cut strips from his cloak. Damien finds a sturdy rope among the debris scattered around the chamber, likely left over from previous temple activities.

Blaze reluctantly removes his dagger from the Abbot's throat, although he keeps the tip of it facing him. "Sit down, and put your hands behind you," he says. "Now."

The Abbot complies, his eyes darting around to assess his options, finding none.

Having no time to waste, I tie up the monk nearest to me, making sure the knots are tight enough to hold him down, but not so tight as to cut off his circulation.

His eyes meet mine, filled with a mix of fear and defiance, but he remains silent.

I feel bad. Truly, I do.

But they attacked first.

And we need to get through that portal.

The next monk I move toward has a broken wrist and leg. I'm as careful with him as possible, making sure to not aggravate his injuries.

Damien handles three of them, his movements efficient and devoid of unnecessary harshness.

Blaze, after ensuring the Abbot is securely tied, helps Morgan with the last two monks.

"Remember, we're not the enemy," Morgan says as she backs away from them. "We're just trying to stop a greater evil."

From the way the Abbot scoffs, I doubt he believes it.

However, I'm sure that if we unleashed shadow souls on this chamber, he'd change his tune pretty quickly. So, I don't worry about it.

The only thing I need to worry about right now is opening the portal to the mystical realm.

Blaze checks the Abbot's knots one last time. "They're secure. We can focus on the trial now," he says, although he keeps his dagger pointed at the Abbot as he retreats to his disc.

Damien retrieves a crystal from the chest and heads to his disc. Even though his previous one is still intact, my light hit it during our first attempt, which means it'll explode if hit again.

Morgan goes back to her spot, and I return to mine, holding my new crystal tightly in my hand. I'm glad the monks are sitting down—otherwise, they could end up in the line of my fire.

"Ready?" Damien asks as Morgan and Blaze level their crystals with mine.

"Ready." I take a deep breath, my magic coursing through me, filling the crystal with a radiant glow.

Then, once it feels sufficiently full of light, I focus as hard as I can and channel it into a narrow beam toward the one in Damien's hand.