Chapter 22 #3
Kienna pushed her hand into the barrier, the buzzing of electricity shocking her wrist. She tried not to indicate her pain. Instead, she intertwined her fingers with Danek’s, but nothing came out. “I need someone to scare me.”
Moira jerked her head back. “Why? Remove your charm.”
“I won’t do that. I might kill Danek, but I can perform magic underneath it. I just need to feel something.”
“Danek losing his fingers isn’t enough?” Moira scoffed.
“Compared to those shadows? Probably not—”
Moira didn’t wait for Kienna to finish. She summoned a cloud above Kienna’s head, a strike of lightning shooting out and jolting her in the shoulder. Kienna yelped out through the pain of her healing socket. Her hand lit up with a flame that flowed into Danek’s fingers.
“Okay, now what?” Danek asked.
“Now, we hold it here until Connak gets back,” Kienna said, gritting her teeth to hold onto the magic barely pulsing against her charm.
Moira cracked another stream of lightning, also now visibly worn.
Beads of sweat collected on her forehead.
She spent a lot of magic to get Tislin back.
Asking her to summon a blizzard and a lightning storm clearly pushed her to the limit. She blinked slowly as they waited.
They sat for an hour, holding their magic against Danek.
Neither of them could get up for water or snacks to revive themselves.
They thought of calling out to Elowen for help, but Tislin’s state was so dire they didn’t dare interrupt.
Moira whimpered, her head bobbing. Kienna tied her focus to Danek, staring intently at his face.
His eyes were closed, but she didn’t dare let up.
He would have put the same level of effort—if not more—if it were her.
“I won’t make it.” Moira’s breath came in jagged gasps. “I’m sorry, I need a break.”
“Take it,” Danek said, pushing his arms forward to release them both.
Moira let go, but Kienna held firm. Her muscles fought against his force. Danek’s hands were already in so much pain; he clearly didn’t have the strength to keep pushing. Moira apologized again.
“I’ll get water,” she said, standing and rushing to the kitchen. She peered over her shoulders, glancing at her bedroom before she continued filling cups.
“What’s your favorite food?” Kienna asked Danek, squeezing her flame around his hand tightly. Danek’s face scrunched as he studied her. “Humor me.”
His eyes trailed elsewhere, as if he were searching for the right answer. “Berries, or those sky plums we tried at the market. We didn’t get much fruit back in River Storm. I never realized such sweetness could exist.”
Kienna’s lips curved. “You would like the sugars.” She looked at Moira, who rested her head against the countertop. “What about you, Moira?”
“Hmm?” Moira lifted her head. “Oh, lately, I’ve been craving that delectable, glazed chicken we used to eat in River Storm. I hate it because it was King Vaerin’s staple meal, but it was quite delicious. I’ve been thinking about that lately.”
“Mine is rice. It’s so plain, but I appreciate that it doesn’t have to be anything else. Moira, favorite color?”
“Why the questions?” Danek asked.
Kienna sighed, trying to hold onto Danek. She realized she knew so little about them despite having grown up with them. She ignored Danek’s question. “My favorite color is gold.”
“Mine is cerulean,” Moira said. “Like the sea.”
Kienna laughed. “That’s extremely specific.”
“Blue as well.” Danek winced as Kienna lightened her grip.
Her strength was failing her quickly, more so after she’d given Moira her own energy. She swallowed hard, pushing despite this. Her head dipped, and then she laughed. “At least we’re finally bonding.”
She couldn’t stop laughing. In no way was her joke funny.
She spent so much time in River Storm pushing them away to avoid a vision of rolling heads, and now she found herself collapsing in Danek’s lap from exhaustion.
She kept her hands steady while her head dipped.
Moira lifted it and poured water on her face.
Some of it hit Kienna’s mouth, hydrating her.
The rest sparked images of drowning, the water tainted by the darkness of her own brokenness.
Whether it was her in the dungeons or Tislin in the Goldmere, Kienna’s eyes lit up and her hands burned with a bright fire.
Letting go of Danek, she backed away.
“It’s okay,” Danek said, laying his head back against the cushions. “Let’s rest.”
“No.” Kienna stepped forward again, grinding her teeth. She reached for her charm. She wasn’t going to let Danek’s hands die. She wouldn’t let Tislin die. Kienna couldn’t live in a world where Danek couldn’t create a melody that put her to sleep in her hardest times.
“Stop,” Connak said, barging through the door, Tristian following behind with an Elvish healer, a woman she recognized from the healing rooms in Trinity.
Relief coursed through Kienna’s veins, and she fell to the couch, desperate for her body to stop moving. She was more than okay with pulling out of this fight.