Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Seraphina
Alistair had let her nap. She was grateful for it.
All day, ever since she’d apparently hallucinated, she’d felt off.
Too hot, then shivering. Hungry, but when food touched her lips, she wanted to vomit.
Sinking further into the pillows, Sera opened her journal in her lap, still captivated by how Dominick’s script appeared on the page.
Something strange is going on.
Chair Renata led a group of winged beings. Fucking white-and-gold feathered wings. The Citadel is in chaos, but I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as we know more.
I miss you, and Theo is a hell of a kisser. I think I’ll keep him around.
So mythical beings had come to the Citadel. Sera had read about them—an old foe from before the rebellion. The archives contained limited entries about their species, so most assumed they didn’t exist. But here they were, in the flesh, in the Citadel.
As she mused on the news, unsettled, voices cheered in the tavern below.
She sank further into the straw mattress.
Another rowdy night of bard entertainment.
As much as she longed to escape her mind and the constant smell of ash, Sera didn’t want to drink the ale again.
This afternoon’s hallucination had already embarrassed her, and she didn’t need to push that further by falling up the stairs.
But was it really a hallucination? She could have sworn it was real. He was real.
Alistair was partaking in the activities. He’d said it was to get additional information, but she was skeptical. Regardless, it gave her a much-needed moment alone. A luxury she hadn’t been able to indulge in lately.
Sera picked up her pen and wrote:
They’re called the aliato. Soldiers of the human Creator, widely thought to be myth.
Why they are in the Citadel is a little concerning.
Speak with Galene if you need more information. She’ll have access to older texts than you’d be able to find in the library.
I’m glad you found someone who doesn’t bore you to tears. You deserve it. He’s lucky to have you.
Her script disappeared from the page.
Galene would have the answers. Sera had once brought up the aliato to her mentor, who’d looked petrified and intrigued at the same time. After working with the witch for years, Sera had learned that was the face she used when Sera brought up a subject that Galene had no intention of discussing.
But buried in the archives were depictions of the winged soldiers, and if anyone knew their way around a library… it was Galene.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside the door.
Shadow help her. If Alistair had locked himself out, she’d never let him live it down. Sera slid off the bed and fluffed her hair for a moment before approaching the door.
“Al, you can come in,” she said. She was turning the knob when the door slammed against the wall.
Sera stumbled backward.
The man’s beard dripped with ale. He had a pungent stench about him and wild, bloodshot eyes. “Ah, there ya be, lass. Was lookin’ for ya to be alone since last night.”
She sprinted around the bed, grabbing one of Al’s hunting knives from atop the map on the desk. She couldn’t let him near her. He’d overpower her in a second. No training was going to help her here, not with her heart beating frantically like this and her veins burning.
The man’s lips were stretched so tight over his teeth that they seemed to disappear. “Don’tcha do that now. I just came to give ya a little kiss.” He licked his lips. Sera noticed a bulge in his pants and swallowed the hard lump in her throat.
The music picked up again. Sera could hear stomping and whooping below. Even if she screamed, they’d never hear her. Al wouldn’t hear her.
“Get the fuck out,” she spat at him, gripping the knife with both hands. She couldn’t stop the steel from shaking. He inched closer.
You are more than steel. Her magic whispered and surged. Moons, she was burning. Raging and burning and ripping. Sera tried reaching for her barrier magic, but the abomination snapped inside her like an asp in a mighty flood of heat.
The corners of her vision began to fade as the man came closer. The swing of her arms was met with his maw of a hand over hers.
Before she could scream, before she could even register what was happening, the intruder was on the ground—with a feral Alistair above him.
“She said, Get the fuck out.” Al had the man gripped by the throat. He clawed at Alistair’s forearm for release.
“You can’t keep her for yourself. The whores are passed round ’ere.”
Alistair snarled, and then they were gone.
The knife clanged to the floor as every cell in her body vibrated.
No.
Shouts of terror rose from the tavern below. Black mist poured from her, pooling around her ankles, leaking between the floorboards.
A single gray drop of flame fell from Sera’s palm, and they were burning.
Smoke curled up the stairway and into the room.
It was unnatural how fast it worked. Sera squeezed her eyes shut.
With its lid removed, that well of darkness went down, down, down.
So deep, she’d never imagined someone could hold that much power within the confines of their body. The screaming—Shadow, the screaming.
Stay. Feel them.
She shook. That burning scorched her veins. Sera cried out, pulling and pulling it back, down, to lock it away. But what if… what if this time she stopped? Stopped running, stop trying.
Her pulse raced. Her lungs choked on the black smoke with each inhale. She could almost sense the way her flames licked up their bodies, consuming them, the walls, the tubs of ale.
Another town destroyed. Sera couldn’t bring herself to move. Mist and flame engulfed the room around her. She could sense the walls cracking and burning, people’s flesh melting.
Someone shook her. When she opened her eyes, they met his blue. Alistair’s arm circled her waist. His hand on the back of her head pushed her face into his strong shoulder.
Sea salt and sage.
Not ash.
As she flipped through time and space, her stomach lurched. No longer in a room aflame, but in a small clearing in the forest. Al sank to his knees and set her down gently on the ground.
“Breathe, Sera.”
She was trying. Trying to tell him, but Al disappeared. Her lungs burned. It was fucking excruciating how her own magic could harm her in this way. Dead leaves crunched between her fingers as she tried to hold on to something. She couldn’t get enough air. Shadow, she was going to die here.
As she lifted her head, panic seized her, shortening her already shallow breaths. “Al… Snik…” she wheezed.
Heavy tears rolled down her soot-caked cheeks. In the dusk light, across the clearing, was the man who’d attacked her.
His mouth hung open, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. The forest scavengers were already circling high above.
Sera heaved up the contents of her stomach. The pressure in her head was excruciating, and every second, she worked to slow the flow of magic through her body. She was dying.
“You’re all right. It’s all right.” Alistair had his hands on her shoulders, was pulling her hair away from her face.
She gasped and clung to him.
“Shit,” he said and lifted her to a seated position. He knelt in front of her. “I’m going to try to heal your lungs.”
Sera gave him a shallow nod. It was like her body had forgotten what it was like to draw in air.
Ripping off his gloves, he settled his thumbs on her breastbone, his palms and fingers spread along her ribs as white light seeped from his fingers.
His eyes were closed in concentration.
Sera tried to memorize the planes of his face. High cheekbones, strong brow, and the way his lips quivered in concentration.
“Breathe, damn it!”
Cool air flooded her chest, and on her exhale, she sobbed.
“Well, your lips aren’t blue anymore,” he said after a few moments and let her go. She instantly missed the warmth of his hands around her.
Before she could thank him, Sera puked again.
“Fuck,” Al said. “Can I carry you?” he asked, barely a whisper.
She nodded and reached for him. He scooped her into his arms, grabbed both packs, and threw them over one shoulder.
“We’ll make camp a little further south,” he murmured into her ear.
Sera stared over his shoulder at the man who’d started this. Crows had landed around him, and she didn’t look away when they plucked out one of his eyes.