Chapter 19
nineteen
. . .
Ever
Ican’t. I can’t willingly hurt Ten.
A standoff.
We already know all I do with Ten is cause him pain, but Fenix isn’t playing.
“Ever, I’m losing patience. Do you need motivation?” Fenix doesn’t wait, but flicks his attention to Crimson, who lunges, but then freezes, just like back in Kirrasia.
“Stop it,” I scream at him.
“Make me. Use your power and stop me from hurting your friends.”
A blast of anger rages through me, and I storm towards him, the power within me now beating a rhythm in time to my steps, as if encouraging me to set it free.
With nothing but instinct, I shove my arms out and, with sheer will, focus on the hold he has of Crimson.
Tiny strands of light, weaving out from Fenix, appear to me, sparkling and wrapping around Crimson, their golden shine mesmerising and enchanting.
The stream of water that I see as my own power washes over them, doing nothing to break them.
So, I push harder and dig deeper, urging the strength that has sat within me through the weeks of training to finally awaken and fight.
And it responds.
Instead of a beautiful, rushing wave of energy, it starts to dull and grow heavy.
And to my eyes, the power I’m forcing between Fenix and Crimson turns dark.
My power is no longer something I alone can see as streams of water turn into ropes of grey fog, wrapping around each of the golden threads of light that Fenix is holding Crimson with. And my darkness breaks them.
One after another, dissolving them into ash, falling to the ground.
But as quickly as I can break them, Fenix sends out more. Over and over again. Faster and faster.
And I can feel that well in my chest, screaming in rage, threatening to break, and wanting to retreat. My jaw aches, my limbs shake, and my muscles quiver as I wrestle to force myself to beat him. To break every tie and hold that Fenix has.
Until I can’t.
Until there’s nothing left in me and I am spent. Empty. And I collapse, panting, and aching, the burning behind my ribs so hot I fear it might set fire to my lungs.
“Ever!” Ten is at my side, and I look up at him through my gloomy vision. “Ever… your eyes.” He pulls back and keeps his hands by his sides.
I blink a few times, trying to clear my vision and whatever he might see in them.
“Crimson?” I check as I gulp down air as if that might help extinguish the pain rupturing in my chest.
“She’s good. Still standing.”
“Seems like you have no trouble aiming your magic at me, Sister.” Fenix’s voice booms over us.
“It must be something to do with how we met, Fenix. Seems I can’t get over that.” My retort encourages a coughing spurt that has my lungs screaming.
“Leave her. She’s used her power for now.” The Usher’s tone pierces my ears.
“She can still fight.” Fenix doesn’t seem satisfied with leaving me in the dirt for the day.
He tosses two swords into the ring, and they clatter to the ground. “If your power is too weak, you’ll train another way. Fight. We need you strong. Same rules apply.”
I look at the sword glinting in the sunlight before turning to Ten, whose expression has grown deadly.
“I won’t fight him, Fenix.”
“Fine. You won’t fight him. Then let him fight you.”
Ten’s eyes fly wide with fear as he stands to turn to my brother. “I won’t—” but Ten’s voice is halted abruptly. His movements are stuttered and sharp, unnatural. And I realise that he’s moving towards the discarded weapon on the floor.
“Ten?” I reach for the connection between us, but it’s weak, just like me. And there’s no answer in my mind.
His hand curls around the hilt, and he lifts the sword, dragging the tip of the blade through the dust as he stands.
“Stop it, Fenix.”
“I’m not doing anything. This is all him.” But his smirk tells the truth.
“He’d never lift a weapon against me.”
“Maybe. Shall we find out?” Fenix claps his hands together, his focus on Ten as he stutters forward, raising the sword and bringing it down towards me.
I roll out of the way and scramble on my hands and knees to the other sword. “Fenix, please don’t do this,” I plead, but Ten just comes at me again. This time, I grab the other sword and raise it to block the strike, the clang of the metal ringing against metal vibrating through the air.
I lock eyes with Ten and see the pain in them and the strain on his face, showing me how hard he’s fighting inside, fighting against the hold that Fenix has. Fenix can freeze us—stop us from moving. He forced me to move on the ship, so why wouldn’t he animate us in any way he chooses?
A new level of terror unlocks in my mind at the power he has and what damage he could do.
Ten’s arms start to shake, but he still rallies blow after blow down on me as sweat licks his forehead.
I drag myself to my feet and clutch the sword in my hands.
Calix taught me how to do this. Fighting with Crimson taught me how to do this. Only I never thought I’d be using those skills against Ten.
No. This isn’t Ten. It might look like him, but it’s my brother’s actions I’m fighting against. Not the man I love.
So, I remember every lie anyone has ever told me and picture the people who betrayed me standing in Ten’s place as I defend each strike, repelling him as best as I can.
“Move your feet, Ever. Check your stance and keep the blade up,” Crimson calls pointers from the sidelines.
“Quiet!” Fenix snaps, and it’s the first sign of weakness from him. This is harder for him than keeping people immobile. He tossed me off that cliff and kept all of us in our place in the fight with Calix with ease.
“Watch out!” Crimson calls, and I switch my eyes to Ten as he rounds on me, arcing his arm wide and slicing the air with the blade. My own blade catches his, but then slides off the edge, and runs in a sweeping motion, catching Ten across the torso.
“Ten!” I drop the sword to the ground as blood seeps into his shirt.
But he doesn’t drop the blade. Fenix pushes him forward, and he lunges, swinging it towards me.
I’m not quick enough and have nothing to defend against the weapon.
It slashes across my shoulder, the pain blazing like a whip and branding me with a matching red stain on my shirt.
“Arghhhh!” Ten’s strangled cry cuts its own wound through my heart to match the one he put on my arm, and it breaks a part of me that my brother—my blood—would play this game. He wants me to cooperate, and then does this?
“That’s enough, Fenix.” The Usher’s voice squeals out.
“We were just getting to the good part.”
“You monster. You really think this is the way to get me to train with you? To help you?” I roar.
“It’s worked, hasn’t it? You’ve used your magic offensively without touch. You’re learning to fight on the battlefield.”
“This isn’t a fucking battlefield, Fenix,” I snap back.
“It will be.”
With the menacing threat, he turns and leaves, letting Ten drop to his knees, the control over him seemingly gone.
I race to him, as does Crimson, and we both check the wound that’s gone straight through his shirt. I bunch up the fabric to put pressure on the bleeding. The sight of him like this is another stab to my heart.
“We need a healer!” I shout. “You said you’d give us one after training. Or do you expect just to pick us to pieces and make us weaker day by day?”
“Ever, I’m sorry.” Ten’s voice is hoarse and thick with regret.
“Don’t. Don’t apologise. You had no control.”
“I couldn’t fight it. It was…”
“Shh, Ten. Save your strength,” Crimson comforts, and I bite down on my instinct to tell her to get away from him. She’s here to help. Risking her life for me. We’re not rivals now.
I stand and march toward the Usher who’s been keeping watch like a decrepit old bird, peeking out from behind the safety of his hood.
“We need a healer. Now.” If I had any strength left, I’d have forced that thought into his mind as if I were wielding an axe to chop wood. But even thinking about it makes my vision blur, and my head pound.
He ruffles his cloak and nods to the side of him, apparently into thin air, before he, too, turns and leaves.
I walk back towards Ten and Crimson, exhaustion now closing in and winning against the adrenaline rush. Every part of my body wants to give in and sleep, more so than any training that happened at The Court.
Ten’s on his back, lying in the dirt, his shirt balled to the cut on his stomach. Crimson’s still cradling her broken wrist.
The urge to cry, scream, and vent is there, but instead of a roaring flame, it’s a simmer—a glow, gathering strength. But I won’t let it die out. I will let it continue to grow, build, and burn until nobody can extinguish me, and I will get us out of here.
Clare, the girl I followed this morning, approaches us, with two other women following her. They don’t introduce themselves or speak to each other or us. But the three of them join hands in a row, before Clare holds her hand towards Crimson.
She looks to me, scepticism flashing in her blue eyes, but turns away, as if not trusting to watch as she holds out her arm to Clare.
She takes it, and the oldest woman completes the circle and presses her hand to Crimson’s wrist.
It reminds me of what Perrin did to me after that day in the ring against Calix.
The three of them close their eyes, and I observe them and Crimson, but also feel Ten’s eyes watching me in turn.
After a few minutes, they sit back and release Crimson. She yanks her arm free, pulling it to her, rotating it back and forth.
“Him next.” I nod at Ten.
Clare looks down at him and repeats the process. This time, we wait longer for them to finish. Minutes drag on, and I flash my gaze between their hands on him, and his eyes watching me.
Tentatively, I push a strand of thought towards him, hoping to find our connection still intact. “Are you okay?” The words reverberate inside my skull, but I see the reaction on Ten’s face. He heard me. Thank the Stars.
“Yes, but you sound far away.”
“I know.”