26
The sight of Tyr’s lifeless body lying among the rubble would live with me until my last days.
Tyr was my cousin.
He was only a boy.
He had his whole life ahead of him, only for it to be snuffed out. All because of me.
Tyr was dead, and it was my fault.
Rage brewed in my gut so deep it pulled my magic free of its own volition, thunder cracking loudly overhead. Fletcher’s eyes turned to the sky in alarm before falling back to Tyr’s limp form. He braced his foot against Tyr’s chest as he slid the sword free.
Flames swam before my eyes as my magic swelled inside of me, and all I could see was red. The wound in my chest was nothing but an afterthought as I pushed to my knees, Nik’s voice calling out for me. I could hear his voice, but not the words he spoke.
The sound of my own blood pumping through my veins was rushing through my ears as I pulled on my magic again, a burning sensation reaching my fingertips as lightning shot out of the sky.
The screams of the surrounding witches were drowned out by the spitting rain that violently tore from the sky, torrents of it cascading down on the battle. My hair stuck to my forehead, the back of my neck, as I pushed to my feet. Rivulets of water ran down my face, washing away the dried blood and dirt.
“Diana…” Nik warned, his grip tight on my arm as I raised my palms towards Fletcher.
My chest rose and fell rhythmically as I drew on my magic. I drew, and drew, and drew until it filled me up to the brim. I almost buckled under the pressure of the storm, the intensity of it, as it swirled overhead. But I held my footing.
Fletcher shuddered as the sword dropped from his grip.
“Diana, you are drawing on too much magic.” Nik’s voice was a whisper in my ears, one I could easily ignore.
I reached out to the angry clouds overhead and grabbed its magic. An earth-shaking thunder enveloped everything, leaving a ringing in my ears. A smile graced my lips as my eyes fell on Fletcher. I cocked my head to the side, another crash of thunder sounding overhead.
The wind was picking up, whipping my wet hair back and forth, cloaking the battlefield in a haze of driving rain. I reached out to the storm again and grabbed whatever power it had left. I waited until it filled me to the point of physical pain before I unleashed it.
Lightning struck out haphazardly around us, the ground sizzling and flaming where it had struck. Fletcher’s expression was wild as he backed away.
“Your eyes…” he uttered, scrambling backwards over the rubble.
My eyes?
I found the lightning in the cloud again…and this time I would not miss. Fletcher had killed Tyr, likely the only blood family I had left. The council had accused him of betraying the resistance, and they had thrown him into the dungeon for crimes they couldn’t prove he committed.
In the end, he had been on our side. He gave his life to save mine.
At some point, the blood had stopped pooling on my tunic, and the pain had drained away to leave nothing but raw, unfettered vengeance and rage.
I watched as I released the lightning and it struck out again, violently stinging the ground around us. Several Nightshade soldiers fell to the ground, including Fletcher.
His body was motionless against the cobblestones, his eyes wide. I stepped forwards slowly, one foot after the other, the sound of Nik’s voice fading in my ears.
“Tess! Tess, I need you!” I could hear Nik yell out behind me. “I can’t bring her back. She can’t hear me!”
I stalked forwards, kneeling next to Fletcher’s limp body as thunder crackled loudly overhead once more. Fletcher’s eyes were trained on the sky, unblinking. His chest was sliced open, the cut blue around the edges and seeping with bright red blood.
It was as if my lightning had cut him down the middle. My eyes traveled to the others around him, and I realized I had taken down at least a dozen other Nightshade soldiers with my lightning strike, but the battle raged on.
But not for long.
I stood again, pulling on more of the magic the storm had left, letting it well up inside of me once more. I threw my head back, turning my face to the storm above with a smile on my lips.
“Diana! Listen to me, Diana!” It was Tess’ voice in my ears this time, and a voice deep down told me to look at her.
My face turned, my eyes meeting hers.
“Your eyes…” She backed up a step, her hand flying to her throat. “They’re…glowing, swirling with storm magic. Diana, come back to us.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice sounding foreign in my own ears.
Darker. Colder.
It was Isaac’s voice that rang out this time. “Diana, you need to focus on letting the storm go. It has no more energy for you to take.”
I turned to him, my brow creasing in confusion. “Why would I do that? I killed over a dozen enemies in one fell swoop. I could end this battle right here and now.”
“But at what price?” Isaac asked, his voice raised over the storm that surged around us. I must have said those words out loud, I realized. “Diana, there is a price to this kind of magic.”
The storm thundered around us, out of control. Lightning struck against the rubble, rocks flying into the air and hitting those unfortunate enough to be standing within striking distance. The rain was falling so hard it stung against my skin, pools of rain and blood forming around the battlefield.
My eyes searched once again for Donika, but she wasn’t here.
She had sent her minions to capture me, not wanting to face me herself. Was Corian here? Who else had she sent after me?
I would take them all down. Every last one.
“Diana, please let the storm go,” Tess pleaded.
She took a tentative step forwards, then another. Lightning struck between us, and she jumped back. My eyes moved from her frightened expression to that of Nik, who stood over her shoulder. His jaw was set, his eyes pleading.
“I can’t,” I choked out, my feet rooted in place.
The storm raged around me, and the same as last time, I had lost control. I had wanted to kill those witches, and the thought made my stomach twist. What was happening to me? Was this the price of this kind of magic?
Bloodlust?
I wanted to fall to my knees and wretch at the thought of those I had murdered, but the storm and its magic held me rooted in place. It hadn’t been only Nightshade guards that had fallen when my lightning struck—it had been resistance members, too. Lightning struck again, dangerously close to where I stood. I didn’t own this storm…not anymore.
Nobody did.
It would strike me down as easily as it had my enemies.
“Please, Diana.” Tess’ voice rang through my ears again.
I closed my eyes, focusing on separating my mind from that of the storm. I grit my teeth against the pain. It felt as if I was pulling a part of myself out as I tried to separate the two.
But the storm and I were one. Despite not owning this storm any longer, despite it being out of my control, it felt as if it intrinsically belonged to me, and I belonged to it.
If the storm died, I would die.
I fell to my knees again, the rocks biting into my skin as I ground my teeth together.
The storm didn’t want to let me go.
I tried and tried to pull the energy in, but it bucked against me, striking out wildly. Isaac joined me, kneeling before me and tentatively reaching out to grab my hand.
“You can, Diana. You are the strongest Stormshade I have ever known.”
My eyes met his, and a tear fell down my cheek, mixing with the rain sticking to my skin. I could sense Isaac’s magic here, now. It pulled with mine, breaking the storm in two. My other hand buried into the dirt as I curled my fingers, trying not to think about the pain as we cleaved the storm in half with our magic.
I knew the moment Isaac was able to break off a piece of the storm and absorb it, as if a physical weight lifted off my shoulders. With the storm severed, I was able to wrangle its energy, absorbing it back into myself.
The last drop of rain fell against my cheek as the storm dissipated, the thunder rumbling off into the distance. The sky was still black with fog and smoke from the flames, but the storm was gone.
Bone deep exhaustion consumed me and I fell forwards, Isaac catching me in his arms. I had never drawn on that much magic, not even when the storm had turned on me in the training field.
My well of magic felt…empty.
I felt empty.
I reached into my core to touch my magic, but there was nothing.
A sob escaped my throat as Tess found me, her arms encompassing me.
“Isaac, behind you!” Nik called out.
Isaac turned in time to parry an attack from a Nightshade soldier who had seen our opportunity of weakness and decided to strike.
The battle raged on around us, far from being over, despite Fletcher and many of his men lying dead a few feet from us. I held tightly onto Tess, my nails digging into her shoulder.
“I’ve got you, Diana. I’ve got you.” Her hand found the back of my head as she pulled me closer. “I’ve got you.”
Nik knelt before us, sliding Stormslayer back into my grip.
“I can’t,” I sobbed, meeting his eyes through the well of tears. I didn’t want to feel the hilt of the blade in my grip again. Didn’t deserve to.
“I’m afraid we don’t have a choice.”
His expression was grim. How many had we lost in this battle? Enough to set us back…years? How many of those lives was I responsible for with that erratic lightning strike?
We would never be able to storm The Stone Palace now…not with our numbers practically halved.
“Can you fight?” Tess asked, her soft eyes meeting mine but her expression firm.
I wanted to tell her that’s all I have been doing. Fighting.
From the moment I found out I was a Stormshade, I had been fighting. I was utterly exhausted, my muscles sore, my resolve weary, my emotions fragile.
I glanced down at my chest and realized the wound had healed itself. Had it been my magic? Had pulling on that amount of storm magic healed me?
“Yes, I can fight,” I replied, setting my jaw.
I swallowed back all the emotions threatening to drown me.
I couldn’t let these witches give their lives for me, as Tyr had, without fighting beside them. Fletcher was gone, but his numbers were still fierce.
They battled on, and the sight of the dead bodies strewn across the cobblestone street had me swallowing back bile.
Tess helped me to my feet and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze to steady me.
Stormslayer was tight in my grip once more, the weight of the dagger bringing me little comfort as the sounds of clashing metal and screams filled my ears.