charging up at us, his pale face becoming visible once he was within a few yards.
Theteau shrieked wildly at us as he grabbed the bottom of the platform, his legs wrapping around the center pillar that supported us. Levent walked over to the center and pulled out his sword. He leaned down and attempted to stab the other kin through the holes in the grate. Theteau easily swung around to avoid the sharp edge of Levent’s sword.
I looked up to find us rapidly approaching the top. Rio and Kewyn’s eyes followed mine to the open space above, but what was our freedom was also an opening for Theteau to get on top of the platform.
I tightened my fists around my walking stick and took a deep breath.
I swung it upward once more, bringing it down on the grate just above Theteau’s head. As fast as I could, I pushed my magic down the handle and instructed the wood to grow. It replied masterfully, breaking through the already damaged varnish and releasing vines from its surface. I knelt, pushing multiple growths through the bars and toward Theteau. He did not realize what was happening until a vine twirled around his wrist. That touch was all it would take.
I pushed more magic into the vines and the rest followed the first. I grit my teeth as Theteau struggled and cursed the plants entwining his wrists, tying him to the bottom of the grate. They curled up his arm, locking his elbow and stopping him from dodging as Levent’s sword plunged through the platform, grazing his neck and stayed there.
He froze, allowing the vines to wrap around his torso. It would not stop him for long, I knew, but it might be long enough to save our lives. If we could just get to the airship – though it turned my stomach to think of flying aboard it again – we might be able to outfly him in the mists of the peaks.
“Get ready, you two. We’re almost there,” Rio yelled over his shoulder.
I looked up too quickly, my mind whirling after using so much magic. My vision faded sickeningly for a second before I could see the half-blood and Kewyn standing across the platform. Levent was still holding his sword against Theteau’s neck, unable to make a final strike or completely release him. Despite how much I wanted to scream at him to kill the foul man, I felt a pang of pity that stopped it. There had to be some truth in what Theteau said about them being friends, though Levent seemed to be the only one that still believed it.