Page 9

Soon, I’ll be nothing but ash.

{Touch it,} the voice wills.

Adrenaline pours through my bloodstream, and transfixed on that concentration of Goddess power, I slowly unclench one hand and raise it, fingers trembling as I reach for the magic. I’d rather welcome death than let it claim me against my will.

Seeing my outstretched hand as an invitation, the thick beam shoots toward me. A rocket of celestial energy that I have no chance of withstanding. Heaving out a heavy breath, I make peace with my end and send my final thoughts to Vaeloria.

Thanks for the shitty life, I guess. Hopefully you protected Addy better than you did me.

As though the Goddess can hear me, that unfathomable concentration of her sacred power spears through me, shredding me from skin to bone. My scream is lost to the thundering roar of magic rolling through the room.

{More.}

Power floods through me. My spine arches as the Threshold lifts me off the floor. Up, up, up. Until I’m clutched in the grips of the magic like a dying flower. My head falls back, and strands of my hair whip around me, thrust into the air by the force of the vortex.

The magic hurts. A thousand spikes driving into my skull. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever known. More than the strike of Mr. Peters’s whip or the fist of a man twice my age. Those memories fill me with bullheaded determination. I didn’t let them break me. I’ll be damned if I weep for mercy now. I gnash my teeth together. Resisting.

Enduring.

The goddess and I both know years of punishment have made my pain tolerance unusually high. The agony carries on. A scream claws up my throat, but I swallow it. I will not shatter.

Is that the best you can do? You know I can take more!

Taunting the Goddess is a terrible idea, but the pain makes me reckless. The Threshold answers, increasing the assault, dragging me higher, stealing the air and the cry that had threatened to shred my throat right out of me. Power riddles my body until pain morphs into something else entirely. Until it feels as if I’m separated from my body.

My eyes flutter closed, but darkness doesn’t greet me. Images flash through my mind. Iridescent eyes. A pool of gold. Gaunt bodies huddled together. Fountains of blood. The pain ratchets up. I buck against the power, but it holds me suspended as it begins to draw on my essence. Every muscle grows heavy, as if I did an intense workout, and my will to fight wanes.

I have nothing left to give. My vision goes blurry again. I blink, trying to clear it, but something pulls me back in time.

“Raina! No, no. NO! I DON’T WANT TO GO!” Addy screams as a man with a handlebar mustache and cold gaze drags her away. She kicks, scratches, and bites, but it’s no use. “Please, Raina!” Her hand stretches for mine.

I race for her, but someone catches me at the waist, their arms so much stronger than me, for I’m only a child.

“You can’t stop this,” the man says to Addy.

Helplessness drenches me like a toppled glass of water spilling across the table as my sister is dragged away.

“Please!” Addy sobs.

“I’ll find you!” I shout, choking on my own tears and the taste of ash. “I’ll find you!”

A stab of Goddess power forces me back into the present. The resurfaced memory—that promise—burrows, sinking its claws into my skin, yanking the last vestiges of my strength from the depths of my soul. I’m not done yet. I always wanted to find her, and now that I know I promised her, I can’t give in. I will find my sister, even if it’s the last thing I do.

Grinding my teeth, I force my eyes open and release a scream that shreds my throat. Something warm and light zaps through me, starting at the base of my spine and hurtling out of me. A blinding flash fills the room. I lift my arm to shield my eyes right as the beam releases me.

For a moment, I’m suspended eight feet in the air, then gravity takes hold like a gut punch to my stomach. I’m falling. Quickly. Violently. The floor races to greet me. I barely have time to tuck my chin before my body slams into the stone.

Air rushes out of my lungs, my ribs screaming in protest as a few splinter and crack. Pain, my old friend, blankets my body. I lie still, waiting for the end, but my side warms as my enhanced healing kicks in. Sooner than my body wants, I sit, sending a fresh rush of agony through my weary bones, but that sensation drives oxygen into my lungs.

I’m healing.

“I’m not dead,” I murmur to myself, then glance up as someone shifts closer. “I’m not dead!” Relief washes through me. Holy shit, somehow I made it. Does that mean I do have power? I search inside myself, hoping to find my affinities shimmering, but that place where my magic should be is still empty. Hollow. There’s nothing there.

“Get up.” Chancellor Tweed studies me with pursed lips. He doesn’t look too happy to see that I survived.

“What, no congratulations?” I mutter before I can catch myself. Using snark as a defense mechanism only works with certain people, but with a paranormal as powerful as Tweed, it’s a dangerous choice.

As expected, the surly chancellor doesn't appreciate my humor. Tweed’s stormcraft magic catches my chin, his casting clutching it in an electrified vise grip that forces me to meet his steely gaze. “What did you do?”