Chapter 10 #2
In a last-ditch effort, he lunges for my throat with clawed hands, only for his fingers to snap from the force of meeting Fredrich’s shield.
He screams when I plunge my dagger into his gut.
I hold his stare as I twist the blade, and his shrieks turn into choked protests as he fumbles for my wrist with gnarled fingers.
I acquiesce, pulling the weapon out, blood gushing from the wound.
It’s too late for him to save himself though.
His eyes roll back, body tilting in the same direction before he finally loses consciousness, falling onto the fire with a loud crack.
Darkness descends on the cavern, like a candle has been snuffed out. The commotion is extinguished at the same time as the light.
After a beat of silence, the Strou warriors voices begin to amplify.
“… fucking kill you … Maile scum … another tally…”
A vibration hums in the air, and it takes me a moment before realizing it’s the force of the shield holding the warriors back. Something touches the side of my neck and I jolt.
“It’s me,” Fredrich says, voice somehow clear above the reignited chaos.
I let out a breath of relief, latching onto the sleeve of his shirt, afraid to lose him.
His grip is firm but gentle as he pulls me closer. “Not scared of the dark, are you, light wielder?”
At the mention of my gift, I still. I’d all but forgotten the part of me that I’ve constantly been trying to dampen in the years since I left Kenta. That place inside me where my magic and Bond reside together as one.
I finger the mangi stones at my neck. I never take them off. In a situation where I need to switch them out for my gyve, I overlap them before removing the necklace.
The noise becomes nearly unbearable. Deafening. Violent.
Fredrich makes the decision for me. “Show them how you burned down the Dark Forest.”
Taking a deep breath, I unclasp the necklace, slowly sliding it from under my collar. I remind myself that Acker has never tried to breach the Bond through the tether. Not once since I left Kenta. And if he wasn’t also wearing mangi stones himself, I’d likely already be forced into his presence.
I let the string of stones slip through my fingers and fall to the ground.
The men rage beyond the invisible barrier and I focus on the beating of my heart, drowning them out. Pressing my palm against the spot under my sternum, I concentrate as I beckon my magic forward.
Nothing happens.
It takes so long that I question whether I’ve smothered my magic to death.
Then I feel it.
As if unfurling from a winter slumber, my gift stretches. Slowly at first, but I feel it, nonetheless. Like taking a shot of good whiskey, it burns, growing warm as it spreads through my veins.
I gasp as a dusting of light shines from the exposed skin of my hands. I’d forgotten what this feels like. Painful, but delicious. Intoxicating. Powerful.
Then, in the blink of an eye, everything ceases to exist. The air stills.
Silence descends so loud that my ears ring.
And I’m staring at a textbook, laid open on a wooden desk, lit by a single candlestick.
I struggle to make sense of what is happening, when I see them.
Male hands I’ve stared at for hours on end.
Hands capable of amazing and terrifying things, with a silver scar that mars the skin between the thumb and pointer finger.
The right hand slides underneath the tissue-thin paper and lazily flips the page.
In a panic, I attempt to squeeze my eyes shut, and just like in my nightmares the scene persists whether I want it to or not.
He reaches for something out of sight. His hand returns with a grape pinched between two fingers. The scar glints in the flickering light as he rolls the fruit between his fingers while he reads. More like skims, as I can barely make out the words on the page before he’s moving on to the next.
Oh my gods.
The grape comes closer before disappearing. Sweat sugar coats my tongue, the crunch of the skin echoing in my ears as he chews.
This is not like the times after I accepted the Bond, when my mind could be in two places at once.
No. The Bond doesn’t want to let me go. Beau’s words ring in my head.
Magic doesn’t like being denied.
I need the stones.
Fredrich’s voice sounds hollow when he yells.
“Jo!”
Acker’s gaze snaps up.
Pain lances across my face, and the last thing I see is the view of Acker’s bedroom and the figure of a woman asleep in his bed.
Then I’m staring at Fredrich’s heated gaze as he tries to shake me out of my skin. By the throbbing pain on the right side of my face, I surmise he hit me.
“Oh, thank the fucking gods,” he says once he realizes that I’m aware once again.
Turning my gaze to the warriors surrounding us, I notice the entire cavern is lit. By me, I realize. I’m the source of the light.
Dropping my pack at my feet, I flick my sword in my hand.
Somehow, I’m less afraid here than the place I was just in.
At least here, I am the master of my own fate.
Bringing my sword pommel to rest against the place my magic resides, the glow of my skin flows into the iron filigree in the handle, winding down the hilt like a river of pure light, spilling onto the sword’s blade, a stark brightness in the night.
A torch to light the way out.
And my strongest weapon.