Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
My father keeps pushing, so convinced that he knows what’s best. For me. For Thom. For Serentyn. He never knows when enough is enough. Never knows when to give in. Cannot imagine admitting he was wrong. He’s going to get someone killed someday.
— From the journal of Violet Andrever
The next morning, we said our goodbyes. I hesitated to leave but knew I had to return to Valdris.
As Griff teleported us back, I thought about all of those people, how their lives had been destroyed in a single night.
And then all thoughts vanished as I saw Zachariah standing under the archway that held the iron entrance gates to the castle, arms crossed, tapping his foot. There was a crowd of people behind him.
All clearly waiting for me.
Griff held on to me, as though he could protect me from whatever was about to happen—or was thinking about teleporting us elsewhere. My arms clung to him for a second longer, wishing he would. As my grandfather’s eyes narrowed, Griff slowly released me, although he stayed right by my side.
“So you are fully trained in your power, are you?” was Zachariah’s opening remark.
I looked at him cautiously. “I’ve been training, but I wouldn’t say fully trained.”
“Yet you’re apparently ready to go gallivanting across the realm, reversing the touch of a hufen. Playing the hero while ignoring problems here.”
How had he even heard about that? We’d just arrived. Griff stiffened beside me, ready to jump in and defend me.
“You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing.” Finn appeared from nowhere. “Rather than the best hope we’ve seen in fifty years.”
Oh. Finn knew. Shit.
Zachariah’s face twisted with something like glee that made my stomach turn. “I’m just saying that if she can do that, she can fix the Veil. But instead, she cowers here, hoarding her power while people die.”
It always came back to the Veil with him.
“I don’t think those two things are equivalent—” I started.
“Of course you don’t think!” he snapped. “You’ve been biding your time for months, playing at being a student while entire villages are slaughtered. How many more children will die while you study? How many more mothers will watch sons turn into demons because the savior is too scared to try?”
Deep down, something in his words struck me.
I did have all this power. And people were dying.
I thought of the devastation I’d just left.
How many more towns were like that? How many more young boys would be doomed to death because I wasn’t there to save them?
Could I save them all by fixing the Veil?
Did I actually have what it took?
The prophecy seemed to think so, if I went with Zachariah’s interpretation of it. I shoved down the niggling thought that always appeared when I thought of the prophecy—the fact that it, and I, was missing something. Something big.
“I’ve been training—”
“Training?” He laughed, a chilling sound.
“Your aunt would have done something by now. She was half your age when she started making the hard choices. She understood her duty. Your parents would have done something. They understood sacrifice. But you? You are hiding behind excuses while this realm burns.”
My hands clenched. How dare he mention my parents? How dare he mention Violet? Three people that he’d let sacrifice themselves while he sat there.
Fire sparked out of my fingers before I could stop it.
“There it is,” Zachariah said with satisfaction. “Tell me, Granddaughter, are you going to continue to sit on this power that could make all the difference for our people? Or are you finally going to do something about it?”
“That’s enough.” Griff’s voice was deadly quiet.
“Is it, Champion? Because from where I stand, we have unlimited power sitting unused while our people, her people, die in agony. Every day she delays, more blood is on her hands.”
White-hot rage coursed through my veins at his words, but I couldn’t deny that his words rang true. “Fine,” I snarled. “I’ll try. But when this doesn’t work, when people get hurt because you pushed too hard too fast, remember that you demanded this.”
Everyone spoke at once.
“Rethink this.” Griff spoke out of the corner of his mouth, his words just for me, his tone fierce. “You used so much power yesterday. Let yourself rest.”
I looked up at him, seeing the depth of emotion in his eyes. “I never thought I’d say this, but Zachariah is right about one thing—people are dying. I have to try.”
He clearly didn’t like that. I could see him mustering arguments, searching for the best one, when I laid a hand on his arm. “If you had this power, you wouldn’t hesitate,” I said softly.
He liked that even less, but he knew he couldn’t argue with it. “I will stop you if you come even close to burning yourself out,” he vowed.
“Counting on it.”
While everyone was still shouting at each other, I slipped away, Griff following closely behind. If I was going to attempt this, better to try without an audience. Wondering where the best place was to make my attempt, my feet took me to the cliffside where my parents had died.
We walked in silence, but Griff brushed the back of my hand, lingering long enough to tell me it wasn’t an accident. Letting me know he was here and would help however he could.
It was snowing now—not a nice, light fluffy snow, but a drizzling, bone-chilling sleet that soaked through everything. If I was being pushed to do this, of course it wouldn’t be on a sunny day with temperate weather.
We reached the spot, the barren land chilling my soul. I shoved my thoughts away from my parents; distracting myself from the task at hand was not something I could afford right now.
Just like that day on the ramparts, I stretched my awareness up and over the kingdom, only this time, I reached deep inside myself to pull up each channel individually.
Blue. Green. Silver. Red. Burgundy. Purple.
Gold. Weaving the separate powers together, I formed a reverse prism that became a stream of bright white light.
I grasped it in my mental hands, twisting it together, and pushed, releasing it upward and outward.
It started to soar. Maybe this would work!
But then it began to fizzle, pausing and losing all of its gathered height before dissipating into nothing.
Shit.
The hum of noise brought me back to my surroundings. So much for no audience. I’d gathered a crowd.
Griff’s hand touched my shoulder, grounding me, and I reached in to try again.
Just like before, I started off strong, but before it reached even half of the previous height, this attempt fizzled too.
I tried again and again. Zachariah just stood there, goading me. Demanding perfection. Demanding healing. Not for the first time, I wondered what precisely his end goal was, as I tried over and over, to no avail.
At one point, I swore I was being strengthened by power from an outside source. But I didn’t pause to think about it, just gathered my channels for another attempt.
I lost count of how many times I tried. All I knew was that I was soaked to the skin, steam hissing off me whenever another flake fell.
My channels felt burned, scorched from the amount of power I was forcing through them.
And still it wasn’t enough. Would never be enough, especially for the asshole masquerading as my grandfather, making snide comments behind my back.
My anger, always bubbling directly under the surface when he was present, roared to life, searing the already-blistering channels, muted only by exhaustion. Which was probably a good thing. Given my current mental state, I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t hurt him if I’d had any power left.
Help came from an unexpected source.
“That is your granddaughter!” a sharp voice rang out over the courtyard.
“Are you trying to get her killed?” Andrei strode in, green robes swirling, no hint of his normal kindness on his face.
He stood in front of his partner of so many years, anger radiating off of him.
“I’ve made excuses for you for years, Zachariah.
But no more. Not if you get her killed the way Violet was. ”
I became aware that I was sagging against a hard surface.
Of course that was Griff’s chest. I didn’t know when my body had started giving out, but he was standing behind me, a human wall keeping me upright, his arm clamped around my waist. He had wrapped his coat around us both, adding warmth as mine seeped away with each channel release.
Strange that I was so cold when my skin was burning.
Andrei’s eyes snapped over to us. “Bring her to the healing wing. Let’s see how much damage this little stunt cost her.”
Roaring filled my head as all the fight drained from me. Faces blurred, their glimpses of pity, sympathy, and amusement fading away. Strong arms scooped me up.
The last thing I heard before oblivion swept through and claimed me was the steady beat of his heart, thumping away under my cheek.
I was me, but I wasn’t me. The sky was dark and starless, as if some black curtain, deeper than night, had rolled across the countryside.
I was in the yard outside the castle but it might as well have been a world away.
The crashes of battle were deafening, the stench of mutilated flesh and infection burning my nostrils.
A realization hit. This was the only way.
I reached deep down, trudging further into my channels than I ever had before.
They felt different, still vast but no longer were they churning masses of untamed power.
They were organized. Refined. I pulled power from every source, even the earth and air around me.
With a roar, I threw my hands to the sky and released it.
A pillar of blinding light shot from me.
And the pain. Oh, the pain.