Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle) by Danielle Martin Williams Page B

sinking black hole, dark and dangerous. The shadow began to expand forward, grasping outwards like a hand. It overtook Brendelon, and his whole body jerked towards its center. In one quick motion, his hand shot forward, grasping on to one of the metal shelves that lined up next to the frame, but the force was unrelenting, determined to take him.
    His eyes were back to black. “Run!”
    But it was too late; I could feel the pressure pulling me forward, keeping me within fifteen feet of him; we were still bound together. I looked down at the brilliant swirls of green and purple; he had realized this too.
    “Take the damned bracelet off!”
    But I couldn’t. I felt an urge to protect his life even if it cost me mine. There was no reason to my madness, but I couldn’t fight against it. “No!” I screamed back at him. I positioned myself behind the rack to support the pull. I could feel the force yanking me more and more, as it pulled him deeper into the hole, but I couldn’t let it take him. I’d use the bond to save him.
    “Take it off!” he hollered again.
    A terrible screeching of metal rang out through my ears as the rebar’s that held the aisles in place began to rip up from the concrete ground. His legs lifted upward, and he held on as tight as he could to the remaining aisle. The racks were going to give. I could feel the pull intensify. My body yanked against the rails, and I felt like my bones would be shattered into millions of different directions, but I held on. He gripped tighter onto the rack that was barely into the ground, and I felt the tension ease slightly, but it was only momentarily because the bars gave their final give and ripped clear out of the ground. Like a vacuum, the abyss sucked them towards its center as though they were nothing more than measly specks of dirt. The only thing anchoring him now was my body being smashed into the metal shelves. The pain was excruciating and right when I was certain my bones would shatter, the ghost-like hand reached out and grasped onto the rack that fastened us to the museum, ripping it clear out of the ground and in the next instant I was slingshot forward into the darkness, smashing my body into his.
    I felt his arms wrap around me as the pressure of the speed forced my eyes closed; I could feel my skin struggling to keep up with my body. I was sure I would disintegrate—become nothing but dust—and the only thing holding it together were the strong arms that squeezed me tight. I felt a change in direction, as we suddenly started plummeting downward; the speed started to slow, and in a split second I felt the pressure of hard ground break our fall; his body taking the brunt of the blow. We tossed and tumbled rolling for what seemed endless, helpless to the mass amounts of momentum that kept us spinning before finally finding our rest.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Four: The Other Side of the Vortex
     
    She held her newborn son for the first time; the agonizing pain she had just felt was suddenly worth it , and she would do it all over again for him. He was beautiful. She stared at his perfect little face and smiled. He looked like her, she decided. Black hair, straight angled nose, and even though the eye color was hard to see, she had a feeling they would look like hers too.
                  “Do not coddle him,” her husband scolded.
                  She looked up to his stern unrelenting face; how could she not coddle such a precious creature? “But he is my son,” she whispered.
                  He shook his head with reproach. “No, he is a future king. You want for him to grow up strong, do you not?” he asked.
                  She nodded, but she was unable to stop staring at the baby curled up in her arms.
                  “Love will make him weak,” he continued harshly. “You must refrain from it.”
                  A sharp pain stabbed