Chapter 65

Iemerged into chaos.

The stab wound on my thigh burned like fire, my hand dripped blood, and I was crushed against a shopfront by Raziel, protecting me from something I couldn't even see, his back straining as he cast his magic over and over again.

The choking air was nigh unbreathable, reeking of dragonfire and rotting corpses.

I shoved at Raz's back. "Let me go. I can help."

His head whipped around. "You…you're back." There was a smear of black soot across his face and a gash on his forehead leaking blood over one eye. "I thought…" He shook his head, splattering blood down the front of me. "Never mind."

He stepped aside and I gaped at the sight before me. "What…the fuck?"

Every shadow had come alive, writhing like serpents right in front of my crumbling shield while a haze of bluish fire hung between the buildings like a glowing mist.

Debris was everywhere, the storefronts still burning.

Lyrae was halfway up the street, a long silver blade in each hand, fighting like mad, slashing and dodging. Casting magic. Bodies littered the ground, some in uniform, some of them mages.

Off in the distance, a dragon roared, followed by a wolf's keening howl.

"What…what did I miss?"

"There was a mob of possessed mages and shopkeepers. We're assuming the Oracle is controlling them. We tried to keep them contained to Southwell, but some…okay, a lot got loose and are in the main part of the city. Zeph, Tavion, and the others went after them." Raziel sent his magic into the barrier and my mouth dropped open as the shadows opened their gaping mouths and swallowed down every glittering drop.

"I'm trying to keep whatever the fuck this is from getting to you."

As if on cue, the liquidy looking creature—if it was even alive—slammed into the barrier, the impact shuddering down Raz's arms and slamming him against the storefront.

"What is that?"

"We don't know. We've thrown everything we have at the thing and it only gets stronger." His dark eyes slid to mine. "Because it's eating our magic."

"Light?"

"Cosimo tried. The thing just…fucking ate every last drop."

I reinforced the wall as Tristan dropped down beside us. "I tried fire. Tried iron-tipped arrows. Nothing works."

"Do you get the feeling you…" I bit my lip. "Know what these things are? Like you've seen them before somewhere?"

The look they traded was answer enough for me.

"The gods came here from another world. We're from another world. This thing's from that world, too. There's nothing there except mists and sand and this black rock that's sharp as glass. Do you think…something from our old world could kill these shadows?"

"Obsidian," they said together. "Dragon glass."

"I'm on it." Tristan leapt for the wall, found a handhold, and yanked himself up and over the gutter. "The apothecary is close by. I'll be back fast as I can."

His footfalls disappeared overhead as Raziel and I turned back to the coils of liquid darkness writhing before us. "What about the people the Oracle possessed?"

"Zor and Cosimo chased one group that way." He jerked his head to the right. "Everyone else went the other way. But I'm not worried about some zombified shopkeepers." He met my eyes. "This creature, whatever it is…wants you, Anaria. Only you."

"The city's packed full of refugees and children. The wagons are due to arrive before dawn, laden with supplies. Those farmers will never return if we can't protect them on our own territory."

"They'll stop the shopkeepers," Raz told me steadily, as if it was already done. "We have to deal with this…thing."

"Ideas?" I asked as the slippery shadows rammed against my shield, hard enough to rattle my teeth and shatter the windows on either side of us. "What if we held them off until the sun came up?"

"My guess is, they'll just hide until nightfall." He slid me a look. "Which is why Trubahn waited until dark for his uprising that wasn't really an uprising."

"And where are all these magic wielders? Hiding in their shops, hoping we take care of the problem?"

"Of course they are," Raz growled, his nostrils flaring the same time his eyes did. "I smell blood. You're hurt." His gaze dipped down to my arm then my leg. "What…When did that happen?"

"Long story. The arm is from the Oracle, the leg is all me."

"Hold still." Raziel pressed his palm to my chest and warmth flooded through me like a wave, feeling so good I had to resist closing my eyes and relaxing into his touch. "There. You can explain later."

The shadow creatures moved so fast they blurred, smearing against the shadows. The only time they stopped was when they hit my barrier, starlight disappearing down that gullet like the thing couldn't consume my magic quickly enough.

"I'm going to try something."

"No, Anaria," Raz growled. "This is not the time for experimentation. Keep that wall in place and wait for Tristan to get back with the dragon glass."

The shadows retreated, writhing together like nesting serpents, calling more and more until every piece of darkness merged into one enormous creature. A gaping round mouth rimmed with teeth, a ring of eyes that encircled the entire girth so it had no top or bottom.

Raz fed magic into my wall, my shadows solidifying, but this time, when the creature launched itself toward us, I knew—I fucking knew—that barrier wouldn't hold.

I stepped through the wall, shoved past my magic, Raziel's glittering dust falling off me like grains of sparkling sand, and spread my arms wide as the monster barreled into me.

For the briefest flash—a nanosecond suspended in time—I was back on that world the Oracle had shown me, but this time…this time…

I sat on a throne of obsidian, as cold and as unforgiving as the icy winds that wailed through my palace. The mists were thick today, thicker than usual, as my sister strode up the center aisle, ignoring my lovely little darklings, their teeth snapping at her heels as she passed by.

"We need to leave this place. It is dying. Dead."

I gazed upon her and mourned. Gelvira was as beautiful as she was cunning. Blessed by the gods, a huntress of many worlds, and able to travel through the veils at will, unlike the rest of us who were trapped in this dying place.

"We will not poison another world as we have this one."

How many times had I said these words to her? My faithful companions came to stand behind me, a unified front against Gelvira and Corvus, who was creeping up behind her like a dark stain, turning the mists black.

"There are other worlds with so much magic you could feed on that power for a millennium and only taste a drop of what they have to offer," she crooned. "You condemn us to death by remaining here."

Her eyes lifted to the ones behind me. My beloved were my only weakness, and my sister knew it. "You are condemning them to death. Is that truly what you want, Amalla?"

"We are all in agreement. We had our time, but it is now over," I told her coldly as she took another halting step forward. Gattica hissed out a warning, my darklings closing in behind Gelvira and Corvus, hungry for magic.

"I do not accept that fate. My brother does not accept that fate."

"That is not for you to decide. That is for our queen to decide." Saphrax stepped up beside me, what little power he had left flaring for my sister, intending to strike her down, but I held out a staying hand.

"We will die with honor. Not fighting amongst ourselves. We have lived for an eternity." I gazed out over this ruined world, trying to remember how much life had once thrived here before we'd sucked the earth dry.

"But our time is over."

Part of me hoped that somewhere at the core of this planet a kernel of life remained. That given time, this world might spring back to life. We would not see it, but that hope…that hope made me smile.

"There is no honor in death. Only life matters," Gelvira growled, and she launched herself toward me. We tumbled through the wide, gaping portal—one of her making—that opened up behind us, cold and ice snatching at my face as we tumbled through the stars and between realms.

I blinked, staring down at my hands.

One bloody, one clean.

I lifted my gaze to a street filled with bodies—Trubahn's, shopkeepers', soldiers'—shadows along the storefronts.

Regular old shadows.

"Turn around. Slowly. Keep your hands up." Raziel's eyes were narrowed when I pivoted, his knife raised to throw, Tristan right behind him, his arrow knocked and aimed…straight at my heart.

"Tell us your name."

"I'm me. Anaria." My brow wrinkled in confusion as I measured the stark fear on their faces. "Who else would I be?"

My wall was gone. The shadows were gone.

No…I glanced down as something ice-cold coiled around me. My heart stuttered to a stop. The shadows were curled around my feet. Tighter and tighter like they wouldn't—or couldn't—let go. I started hyperventilating.

Darklings. My beautiful little darklings.

"Get them off me." My eyes flew to Raz's face as I tried to kick them away. "Get them off of me. Now."

"We can't. We've been trying, princess. They won't let go." Raziel and Tristan were as horrified as me, the shadows coiling over my feet and through my ankles, lithe as cats.

The street rumbled when Zephryn flew around the corner barely touching the ground. He crashed to a stop, spraying cobblestones through the air, head weaving back and forth, eyes burning with blue fire, his whole being focused on the unnatural darkness wrapped around my ankles.

He opened his mouth, blue fire building in his throat.

Tristan leapt in front of me, aiming that iron arrow at the dragon's heart, a lot of good that would do him with those thick scales. And still, Zephryn kept coming.

"Stop." Cosimo appeared between us. "Stop, Zeph. She is not a threat. The shadows are not threats." He gave me a sideways glance. "Not anymore." Zephryn snorted out a puff of noxious smoke.

"Get them off me. They feel like ice." Oh gods, they were death, rubbing against my skin, wet and cold and slithery, and I couldn't control my breathing, could hardly stop myself from reaching down and clawing them off my legs as they snaked higher and higher.

"Hold out your hands and call to them."

"Are you fucking crazy?" Raz stepped closer and the shadows paused, rippled, then expanded until they coiled around my waist. "Look at them. They're killing her."

"Call to them, Anaria. They will answer."

Darklings. The word hovered on the end of my tongue.

"I don't want them to answer." My panic grew so intense it became pain trying to claw its way out of my heaving chest. "I want them gone. I want them off me." I sobbed, darkling, darkling, darkling chanting inside my head like I couldn't stop myself.

"Think, Anaria. Think." Cosimo's expression was intense, his blue eyes shining. "If you don't control them, they'll roam through this city without purpose. People—your people—could get hurt. People will die. Call them," he said, gentler this time. "Just…hold out your hand and call them."

I swallowed hard. "If they eat me, I will haunt you for the rest of your life."

He grinned. "You aren't going to be eaten. Those shadows are just another aspect of your magic."

"I don't like them," I insisted, but I held down a hand tentatively, like they were feral dogs that might nip my fingers off. "I swear, why can't things go according to plan? All I wanted to do tonight was kick Trubahn's arse."

The shadows sniffed—fucking sniffed—at the tips of my bloodied fingers, and the second they made contact was like plunging my entire arm into an ice bucket. Then they disappeared. Into my fucking hand.

For a second, I just stared at my fingers.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"They're part of your magic," Cosimo explained, gazing at me with the kind of curiosity usually reserved for something strapped down to a scientist's table. "Another manifestation you can call upon when you need protection."

"You sound pretty fucking sure about that for someone who's been stuck in a magic amulet for three hundred years," Tristan snapped. "Care to explain?"

Simon struggled toward us supporting a clearly exhausted Torin, and Cosimo was gone, racing toward him while trying to avoid Zephryn, who was trying to turn his enormous body in the tight street, his tail shattering windows and collapsing a wall.

"This is a fucking disaster," I muttered as the dragon took out an entire shop with his tail. blowing a mouthful of blue heated fire straight through the collapsed hole. Flames burst to the sky in a roar of fire and ash. I glanced at the sign.

Trubahn's.

Okay, so that was probably on purpose.

I watched the mage's shop burn, my body trembling as the adrenaline faded. "Those farmers are going to turn around and go straight back to the Havens."

Zor took one long look. "I'll clean this up." He whistled, and Lyrae glared at him then flipped him off, her blue eyes glinting like ice chips. "Don't worry, princess. We'll have everything back to normal by noon."

I sagged and Raziel caught me around the waist. "I'm taking you back to the Keep. You are going to eat then sleep. That's a fucking order, Anaria."

I tried to lift my hand to salute, tried, really tried, to come up with something clever to say to wipe that look of worry off his face, but came up empty.