Chapter 9
Nine
“Oh, she is delicious,” the rogue rasps.
Beneath the agony, a flame of rage sparks to life.
Since burying Noxie, I’ve had no autonomy over what happens next, becoming aimless and vulnerable, exposed to the Soulren by killing Edon and feeling guilty about it ever since.
But if this is my destiny, if I’m to be hunted or kidnapped or trained as a weapon, I must take control.
Through gritted teeth, I focus all remaining energy into breaking free.
I think of what it felt like to accidentally resurrect Noxie, that moment of true elation that he came back before the terror set in and he died a second time at my feet.
I remember what it felt like to drain Edon and how, if I knew how to properly handle the craving, I wouldn’t have killed him. I’d be able to let go.
I think of my mother. Suffering until the end. My grandmother, toiling away well into old age.
Grief.
Regret.
Anger.
Confusion.
Doubt.
The ember grows in response. Its heat builds, concentrating in my chest.
Through blazing vision, I fixate on the rogue. I rise to my feet, my cloak billowing around me in a self-made wind, and with a broken scream, I let the fire loose.
Searing flames erupt from my skin, azure and white-hot. They lick along the Soulren’s invasive resonance, consuming it like dry tinder. The tentacles recoil, writhing and blackening, forcing him to sever the connection lest he be incinerated.
He staggers, his spindly hands smoking. Shock contorts his shadowed features before it morphs into fury. “You little bitch. I’ll flay the skin from your bones!”
The rogue lunges, fingers spread for another release, but Falcen launches himself between us, throwing up his sword and leaping over the expanse of the river. The Soulren’s magick slams into it midair.
This time, those grotesque tendrils bounce off, hissing like vipers. Falcen grunts, straining as he lands on the opposite bank and pours more power into the weapon.
“Verily, get the children out of here!” he shouts over his shoulder.
I hesitate for a split second, torn between helping Falcen and rescuing the prisoners. But the terror in their eyes and the confidence in his spurs me into action. I sprint back up the slope and over the bridge, my cloak snapping behind me.
The young woman looks up as I kneel beside her and fumble with her chains.
“It’s going to be okay,” I murmur, even though I’m not sure I believe it myself.
Release.
Remarkably, the cuffs on her wrists and ankles respond to my little ember’s silent command and detach, clattering to the ground under my spread hands.
“Oh,” I whisper out loud, but really, it’s to the ember inside me. “Thanks.”
The woman is too distracted by the clash of magick behind me to notice my unusual gratitude. But her blank expression draws my attention, and the way a blue aura ripples around her face and then descends into my hands.
Oh, no. The freeing of her chains wasn’t without sacrifice.
Stop! Don’t use her soul.
Must. Drained. Hungry.
Then I’ll figure out another way to free the boy. We’re not drawing on his soul.
The woman’s aura floats back into place. I sag with relief.
I turn my attention to the boy, his small frame hunched and shivering. Tears streak down his grimy cheeks as he stares at the chaos unfolding behind me. The Soulren and Falcen’s battle sends shock waves through the air, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“Hey,” I say softly, drawing his terrified gaze. “Let’s get you out of these chains, okay?”
He nods jerkily, holding out his thin wrists. I concentrate on the metal, willing it to release like it did for the woman. But the ember remains stubbornly silent, exhausted from earlier.
More. Need more.
Cursing under my breath, I grab a discarded dagger from the muddy ground and start sawing at the links. The boy winces as the blade nicks his skin, drawing a bead of crimson blood.
“Veilbreaker!”
I twist in time to catch the soul-sword Falcen tosses through the air. My catch is more dumb luck than deliberate.
“Be quick!” he yells, then refocuses on the rogue Soulren.
Falcen’s blade shimmers, its handle growing warm under my palm. Like a greeting.
“Hello,” I murmur to it, and I swear it flutters gleefully in response.
I don’t waste any more time and lower the sword’s edge to the chains. It dissolves them like I’ve cut through freshly churned butter. The boy looks at me with wide, disbelieving eyes before bolting to his feet and fleeing into the night, the young woman close on his heels.
Behind me, Falcen lets out a pained grunt. I risk a glance over my shoulder and my heart seizes. The rogue has abandoned his long-range attacks and engaged Falcen in close combat.
I stagger upright and whirl to face them.
“Falcen, catch!” I cry.
He catches his weapon mid-spin and whirls to parry a vicious strike from the rogue. They trade blows faster than my eyes can track, their clashing magick sending vibrations up my spine even from a distance.
I want to help, to unleash again, but I’m drained. Edon’s soul is depleted. I can only watch in horrified awe as Falcen fights with a mix of brutality and grace, meeting the Soulren strike for strike, both baring their teeth and slashing at each other.
Until Falcen sweeps his sword low, aiming for the rogue’s knees, but the rogue weaves his fingers through the air and threads of power lash out, wrapping around Falcen’s sword arm and sizzling against his flesh.
Falcen roars, his sword clattering to the ground, then vanishing into wisps of blue smoke as the rogue’s threads burn through his sleeve and into his skin. The smell of charred flesh fills the air.
I scream his name, lurching forward on unsteady legs.
The rogue laughs as he yanks on the magickal tether, dragging Falcen to his knees. Falcen grits his teeth, refusing to make another sound even as his arm smokes and blisters.
“Pathetic,” the rogue sneers. “Is this the best the great Resonance Academy can offer? An arrogant fool and an impulsive girl?”
He flicks his wrist, and Falcen goes flying, slamming into the stone overhang of the bridge with a sickening crack. He doesn’t get up.
“No!” The scream rips from my throat.
I’m running before I make the conscious decision, skidding to my knees at Falcen’s side, my hands hovering over his still form, afraid to touch him and confirm my worst fears.
“Falcen,” I whisper, voice cracking. “Falcen, please, wake up...”
A wet, rattling cough is his only response. I find the pulse point at his neck, thready and weak. His breath comes in short, pained gasps, and blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. Ugly red burns mar his forearm where the rogue’s threads seared through his vambrace.
Behind me, the Soulren laughs. “How touching. The young maiden weeping over her fallen warrior.” His footsteps crunch as he approaches. “Don’t worry, girl. I’ll take you to a better place.”
Fury, hot and bright, flares in my chest. How dare he? How dare this vile, degenerate creature threaten me, hurt Falcen, and terrorize innocents?
Closing my eyes, I reach deep inside myself, past the exhaustion and pain, searching for any last dregs of magick.
For one terrible second, there’s nothing. Just the frantic beating of my heart and Falcen’s labored breathing.
Like a single candle flame in a sea of darkness, I feel it. A stroke of warmth, small but stubborn.
I rise to my feet, turning slowly to face the rogue. The ember inside me twitches in response to my distress, its tiny flame growing to a steady glow behind my ribs. I breathe deeply, allowing the warmth to spread through my limbs, pushing back the aching fatigue.
Raising my hands, I anchor the rogue in the center of my vision. “You will not touch him again.”
The rogue smiles. “Such a waste. You would’ve fetched a handsome price. Now I suppose I’ll have to settle for savoring your soul as I drain you dry.”
In answer, I let the ember inside me search for sustenance, the closest being Falcen. Wisps of his soul drift toward me like fronds in the wind, and I’m careful—or at least trying to be careful—not to take too much.
I figure he owes me, anyway.
There’s no time to collect more. I form what I have into a ball between my hands, Falcen’s soothing tone swirling along with his soul. Don’t let it consume you. Let it go, Veilbreaker.
I thrust my hands forward. A hissing sapphire current slams into the rogue’s chest and sends him staggering back. Surprise flashes across his face before it contorts into a snarl.
He flexes his fingers, and those sneaky violet tentacles snake out, darting toward me with fervor. I brace myself, gathering my meager strands of soul-magick.
But before I can unleash my pitiful defense, a bolt of shimmering cobalt light surges past me, slamming into the rogue with the force of a battering ram. The rogue falters, his magick dissolving.
I whirl around to see Falcen struggling to his feet, his uninjured hand outstretched. Blood still trickles from the corner of his mouth. He staggers forward, red staining his teeth as he snarls, “You will not lay a finger on her, you soulless fuck.”
The rogue regains his footing. “And what does that make you, Resonant? I can smell the craving on you, the endless need to consume her. You can’t stop, can you? You’re closer to becoming—”
With a roar, Falcen pounces, calling on his soul-sword while in the air, his own magick bursting forth in a blinding flare that makes me shield my eyes.
Falcen swings his summoned weapon, the very air seeming to split and scream in its wake. The Soulren jumps back too late, the blade cleaving through his shoulder.
But even as Falcen drives into the Soulren, I can see the toll it’s taking. His breath comes in threadbare gasps, sweat beading on his brow and mingling with the blood still seeping from his wounds.