Curse of the Gargoyles (Gargoyle Guardian Chronicles Book 2) by Rebecca Chastain

him, every step becoming increasingly sharp and uneven. I’d stopped checking our progress against the leading edge of the earth section. It was too depressing. Everything that slowed us down only increased the strength of the purifier, and the bubble pushed outward at a steady, ground-eating pace. Despite the distance we’d covered, we were still a dozen yards from escaping.
    Lightning split the sky beside us in the fire section, sounding like it exploded against my eardrums. I jumped. The granite beneath me reacted, spearing straight into my foot.
    I screamed on an inhale, the sound sucking into my throat.

6
     
     
    “What? Are you okay?”
    Unable to speak, I pointed to my left foot. Velasquez twisted without shifting his feet, then cussed.
    “Did it go through your foot?”
    The sharp pain radiating from my sole scrambled my thoughts, and I fought the urge to yank my foot free. Any sudden movements could cause the granite to reshape around or inside my foot.
    “I don’t think so,” I gasped. “Into but not through.” Pain climbed up my leg until it felt like everything from my knee down had been pierced. I pictured the bottom of my foot and the rock penetrating it, and white noise rang in my ears, clouding my vision. A sharp snap next to my nose brought me back to myself.
    “Hey. Stay with me. You need to lift your foot. Slowly. Then you’re going to climb on my back and I’m going to carry you, okay?”
    “No.”
    “No? What’s your plan?”
    “Your back. I can’t—”
    “My back is fine. Two steps will cause fewer rock ripples than four.”
    I shook my head. Arguing helped distract me from the compulsion to rip my foot free. “You’re bleeding.”
    “So are you. If you’re not afraid of getting a little of my blood on you, I’m not afraid of getting a little of your blood on me.”
    I shifted, biting my lip when pain shot up my leg.
    “Okay,” I said.
    Velasquez offered me his arm and I clung to him while I inched my foot from the rock spike. Sweat coated my body when I was finally free. I crossed my foot over my knee and peeked at the bottom. The thin leather sole of my boot had been sheared through, and blood seeped from the arch of my foot. For a closer inspection, I’d have to remove my shoe, and I wasn’t eager to see the wound or to jostle my foot that much.
    “You’re not walking anywhere on that,” Velasquez said.
    I nodded, not trusting my voice. The pain had morphed into a pulsing throb, and the thought of putting weight on my foot made me want to whimper.
    “Grab my neck,” Velasquez said, turning his back to me.
    I stared at the dirt- and rock-crusted scrapes in his back. I wouldn’t be able to hold on without hurting him.
    “Maybe you should go on without me. If I don’t move, I should be okay until you guys shut this down.”
    “You’re being dramatic. Hop on and let’s get going.”
    I grasped his shoulders and lifted my left leg toward his hip but hesitated, unsure how to proceed.
    “We’ll be here all day if you try to do this without touching me.”
    “I don’t want to hurt you.”
    With a growl, he crouched, grabbed my left thigh, and lifted me, stepping forward at the same time. I squeaked and slung my arms around his neck, pulling my right leg up to squeeze his hips. A solid curl of granite unfurled behind me, slapping my butt and jostling me against Velasquez. He grunted, then took a second cautious step.
    “You okay?” he asked after three more steps. The granite shifted and bubbled behind us, folding on itself like a crumpled rug as it halted every current of air Velasquez’s footsteps lifted.
    “I think so.”
    Dirt sifted from Velasquez’s thick hair when my head brushed it, and the loamy odor was comforting. Clinging to the fire elemental was akin to hugging a warm boulder, and I welcomed the illusion of safety that being pressed up against his strong body gave me.
    “Good. Because I know we’re trying not to move the air, but I need to