The Rifts of Psyche Kyle West (inspirational books for women TXT) 📖

“We’ll go together. It’ll keep you from killing yourself.”

“I can handle it,” Lucian said.

“I know, big, strong man and all. Maybe I just need your help as a weak, defenseless woman.”

“Hey.” Cleon was shouting over the edge. “Stop flirting and hurry it up!”

She shook her head. “Damn fool. He’ll call the Zephyr down over us.” She streamed Gravitonic Magic around them both, until they were wrapped in a bubble of gray light. “Let’s move.”

They made the jump together, and Lucian couldn’t help but gasp as the ground fell away. Maybe it wasn’t really flying, but it was close. The boosted jump took just a few seconds. Serah landed neatly in front of him while he landed behind. The four of them stood before a small cave entrance. They would have to crawl to fit in there.

“Ladies first,” Cleon said.

“I think not. I’ll bring up the rear. Just keep going straight until you reach the chamber.”

Cleon shrugged, and went into the cave first, followed closely by Fergus. The large, armored captain could barely squeeze inside.

“All right, I’m freezing now,” she said. “Let’s get inside.”

Lucian went in first, followed by Serah.

22

The tunnel went on for a while, or at least, it felt so to Lucian crawling on his hands and knees. When he stood, he found himself in a small chamber. He couldn’t stand without stooping. With the four of them crowding in, there was barely any space. Fergus closed his eyes, as if pretending to be anywhere but here.

Lucian didn’t blame him.

“Couldn’t you have picked a better cave?” Cleon’s voice was loud and booming in the chamber’s confines. Lucian winced from the ringing in his ears.

“Oh, I apologize,” Serah said. “Next time when I’m picking out a place to stay for me, and me alone, I’ll make sure it’s as fine as any manse in Dara.”

“That’s where I should be,” Cleon said. “If I hadn’t run off to the Riftlands like some rotting fool, I might be Mage-Lord by now.”

Fergus opened his eyes. “This is our situation, and we must make the best of it.”

“There’s little enough air up here as it is,” Cleon said. “Maybe a couple of us should sleep outside. I nominate Fergus and Lucian.”

“Is that a joke?” Serah asked. “We still have things to discuss. For one, why are the three of you following me?”

Cleon was about to respond, but thankfully, Fergus cut him off. “We wanted to ask something of you. We were sent here by your father.”

Her expression darkened. “I figured. What’s the old man up to these days?”

“Busy preparing Kiro’s defenses against the Queen’s soldiers. By now, they will have reached the Deepfork and are well on their way up the Deeprift.”

Her face paled at that news. “Soldiers? They were chasing me, too, but I lost them last night. Thankfully for me, they didn’t think to look up.”

“Is the Zephyr about?” Fergus asked.

“It came by to pick them up last night. And I’m hoping It doesn’t come back.”

“I already figured that out,” Cleon said. “I’m basically the brains of this group. I’m the one who tracked you here.”

“First of all, someone with earwax for brains could have followed that stampede. There were at least twenty soldiers, with four or five of them being Mage-Knights. And at least one had the purple plume of a Mage-Lord.”

“You’re sure about that?” Fergus asked.

“I’m not blind. I led them here, right to the cliff. I thought they would lose their way up here, but then the Zephyr showed up.”

“And was the Queen on it?” Fergus asked.

“That, I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised. If seems like a full-scale invasion of the Riftlands is happening. If there’s another group at the Deepfork, there may be more yet.”

“You’re right,” Fergus said. “For all we know, there may be.”

Serah’s face fell. “Well, we all knew this would happen someday. I guess I thought we had more time.” She met Fergus’s eyes. “So, you want my help to defend the village my father exiled me from, all because I’m the only Gravitist of any skill you know. My answer to that is no.”

“That’s not why we’re here,” Lucian said.

Her eyes turned on him. “What is this, then? Why else would you be here?”

“We need to get to Dara. Your father told me you know your way around the Darkrift. And the way to a passage known as Slave’s Run.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious. You’ve been on-world, what, four or five days? And you want to go into the rotting Darkrift?”

“We are very serious,” Fergus said. “And we know that you know where it is.”

“I don’t.”

“Your father told us you did.”

Her expression darkened. “Rotting hell. So rather than exile me, he wants to kill me off? I’ve had it with him. I owe him nothing. I’ll point you the right direction, but don’t expect any further assistance.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about why we want to find it?” Cleon asked.

“It’s not my business. You can stay here for one night since it’s too dark to survive out there. Come morning, though, I want all of you out of here. And out of my life, too, if you please.”

“Just listen,” Lucian said. “This might be our only chance to defeat the Sorceress-Queen. If you don’t help us find Slave’s Run, then we’ll have to travel across the Riftlands all the way to Dara. If we do that, the Zephyr will surely catch us.”

Serah sniffed. “Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Fergus huffed. “Let’s be reasonable, Serah.”

“Reasonable? I’ll tell you about reasonable. What has the Riftlands ever done for me besides give me grief? I don’t like the Queen either, but I can survive her just as well as I can survive Rifters. Probably even better, since Rifters make a sport of hunting frays.”

Cleon shrugged. “She has something of a point.”

“Why must my father always meddle? Why can’t I live the rest of my miserable life in peace?”

“What about Ramore?” Lucian asked.

She looked at him, her brows lowering