61. I May Have Miscalculated
61
I May Have Miscalculated
Aliza
T ime slowed, events unfolding in a sluggish but unstoppable tornado of disaster.
Idris collided with Anwir, the two of them barely crashing to the ground before the former raised his fist.
The room plunged into blinding darkness as the lightning disappeared with a snap.
Somebody screamed.
All I could see was the image of Idris, scorched onto my retinas, the rage and grief contorting his beautiful, tortured face. That, and the glare of many sets of white eyes as shades swept in on every side, with nothing and nobody standing between them and us. The world tilted, like a ship in a storm. They were coming for us. We couldn’t fight them. We were cornered and out of options. We were all going to die. It was over.
I killed us all.
The thought flitted across my mind, so fast I barely glimpsed it, and then I exploded.
Heat and fury and horror and fear blasted from every pore, an uncontrollable detonation. It tore through the dome, the flame’s roar enhanced by the smash and clatter of whatever lay in its path .
All except my friends. They were bright spots in my awareness, bubbles of hope in the searing eruption of despair.
My flames buffeted around them, never making contact. At least, I hoped they didn’t. It wasn’t the protective shield Mabli had spoken of, only an awareness. A small drop of control amidst the chaos of my power. I funnelled the flames around them.
An almighty crash sounded overhead, a shattering star. Glass rained through fire. Something solid and cold collided with me, ripping the floor away from my feet, only for it to slam into me a moment later.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hear. A shrill ringing filled my ears.
Why wouldn’t my body move? Did I still have a body? Was I dead?
A grinding screech sounded close by, followed by a cascade of tinkles.
I still had ears, then.
A pained groan. Someone whimpered.
The screaming continued.
Air filled my lungs, and I coughed, jolting pain through my body. Sharp little teeth bit into my skin in numerous places.
“Are you hurt, mon amie?”
Cold hands swept hair from my face. My eyes fluttered open. I was face down on the ground, surrounded by thick chunks and planes of broken glass. The smooth surface of one pressed against my cheek in place of the floor. Jacques stared back at me, his skin unburnt but peppered with cuts.
Bracing my hands under my chest, I heaved my body up. Shards and chunks of shattered glass tumbled to the floor. Blood streaked one hand. I’d destroyed the dome. Why was I still alive? Why hadn’t the shades taken me ?
I lifted my clanging head.
Pansy was nearby, tears staining her gaunt cheeks as she cradled a burnt and blistered leg. It was her who was screaming. My heart lurched. I’d thought I’d spared her from my explosion. This was my fault.
Jacques crouched at my side, his numerous cuts and gashes healing before my eyes. All of them, my fault. Where were the others?
Sage slumped against a bookshelf on the other side of the room, fallen, smoking tomes and angular plates of broken glass piled around her. Had my blast of power thrown her? She touched a hand to her bleeding forehead, her fingers coming away dark.
Jacques’ cold hands closed around my arms, hauling me to my feet. I swayed, catching hold of him. He peered into my face, assessing.
“I think I’m okay,” I muttered, my words sounding hollow and distant. “Where’s…”
Brilliant light danced over the planes of Jacques’ face. Lightning. The shades hadn’t come for us because a wavering shield of lightning hung in the air, though it was smaller, its glow duller than it had been.
“Idris?”
He was alive. His magic held the shades at bay once more, so he had to be alive. Where was he? My heart leapt at a dark-haired, stirring form, easing upright, but it was only Anwir. Vile, murderous, Anwir. Fiery hatred seared my nerves, and my hands curled into fists, itching to sink into his stupid, evil face, just as Idris’ had done.
Idris. Where was Idris?
The lightning dome guttered and shrank slightly, its energy lifting the hairs on the back of my neck as it pressed closer to my head .
Through the shifting, slaking ball of light, I found Maelgwyn’s eyes. The bastard lurked on the far side of the observatory, out of reach of my magical outburst. His teeth bared into a rotten smile. At his feet was—
“Idris!”
I darted forward, but Jacques caught me, preventing me from throwing myself headfirst into the lightning.
Idris lay prone amongst the glass, blood streaking freely down his face as he lifted his head, barely clearing the debris. His dark leather was shredded and torn, revealing mangled, gaping wounds. One spear-like piece of glass protruded from his shoulder.
No.
I might have screamed his name again, might have writhed and fought against Jacques’ hold, or maybe I just stood there, limp and silent, as Maelgwyn considered his fallen nephew.
Over the crackle and hum of lightning, the sorcerer king’s words rang clear. “Oh dear, this brings back memories.”
Idris’ magic flared momentarily brighter as he attempted to shift his body, but it dimmed and wavered as he fell still with a cry of pain. The sound sliced through me. My heart clenched, but my legs were hollow and numb, my throat too tight to scream.
He was dying. He was bleeding out, and yet he wasted his life force on protecting us from the shades. Shades that circled the flickering dome of light like ghastly, monstrous wolves. He should have used that power to fry Maelgwyn, or better yet, kept it inside, preserving whatever energy remained to him, but instead, he protected us. Me . I wanted to shriek, to wail, to howl, but my body wouldn’t respond .
Glass cracked and shifted, and Sage appeared at my side, clutching a sword in one hand and her stone in the other. She stared at Idris, but trapped behind his power, her weapons were of no use.
We were of no use.
“Did you know, Aliza, my dear,” Maelgwyn spoke with all the musical benevolence of a university professor unveiling a particularly interesting subject, “that iron is a particularly effective weapon against fae? I have studied its effects extensively. Not only does it cause agonising pain, but it reacts with the magic in our blood, rendering it useless.”
My ears were clogged with cotton wool, or maybe blood from the explosion. His words made no sense.
Maelgwyn surveyed the prince at his feet, watching his attempt to rise again. This time, his trembling arms lifted him a few inches clear of the blood-smeared glass. Foolish hope bloomed within me, but the hateful, logical side of me knew that Idris didn’t have the strength to stand, let alone get himself out of this mess. Then before I could more than gasp, Maelgwyn plunged a dagger into the prince’s back.
Idris didn’t scream, didn’t do anything but buckle, dropping the short distance to the glass-strewn floor, the blade embedded between his shoulders. He lay still. Jacques’ arm tightened around me, all that held me up as my scream pierced the night.
A few eternal seconds dripped past before Idris’ lightning went dark.