Chapter 55

Icould barely think around this infernal itching, heat curling around me like I was trapped in a blacksmith's forge.

I wasn't kidding—this was the worst thing I'd ever gone through, besides dying, which fortunately I didn't remember, and when I woke up, I was as good as new. This went deeper, like the sensation went further than flesh and blood and bone, reaching straight to my very soul.

Of course, if I said that out loud, everyone would get more freaked out than they already were. And what in the fuck were these things sticking out of my back? They felt bigger than apples, truth be told, like two heavy weights on my shoulders.

"You think this was caused by the ward falling? There was no wave, not like last time. Only that infernal burning dust. Three times now I've been caught in one of Anaria's magical resurgences. First the day the armies fell, then when she dropped the wall between Solarys, and yesterday. And I feel perfectly fine."

Anaria went even paler. "I kept my shield around the rest of us that day in Solarys. And yesterday, whatever magic was released when the wall fell, I protected everyone from that as well."

She swallowed hard. "Three times, Zor? Are you sure?"

"Well, fuck. When you put it like that, you make it sound like I have something to worry about. But I feel good. Better than I have since before Cosimo dragged me back in time. Get rid of this itching, Raziel, and I'll be ready for travel."

"We aren't going anywhere." Raz pulled his hands away, and when his magic faded, I doubled over. Not in pain. Not exactly. More like a pulling, tearing pressure, compounded by this cursed itching. "Not until we know what's wrong with you."

Tristan pulled Anaria over to the window, where they tipped their heads together, whispering.

"I can travel," I insisted, tearing my eyes away from the two of them. "Whatever this fuckery is can't be any worse than Reapers or being burned alive by the blight or any of the other shite that we've gone through. The sooner we're out of here, the better."

I was trying to ignore the fact magic was spilling out of me unchecked, ignoring my demand to settle, and gods, this room was so hot I was burning up. "While you're over there, can you close those blinds? This sun is killing me."

With an apologetic sigh, Anaria tugged them together, cloaking the room in shadow once more, and I sighed in relief.

"We have access to food and water, for the time being." Raz had gone into commander mode, something I appreciated.

"Anaria's set wards around this part of the castle, and so far, they are holding." He fixed that steady stare on me. "If your magic fails like before, you won't get lucky a second time. You'll crash down into a blight-infested area and we won't be able to save you."

I swiped the sweat off my top lip. "So that's your plan? Staying here, with the weapon, where we're sitting ducks for the Oracle, or worse, her brother to find?"

"I didn't say I liked the plan. I said this was our best option. Don't be an arse, Zor. You're in no fucking shape to travel anywhere and you know it."

My gaze landed back on Anaria and Tristan, murmuring softly. I only caught a few words. Impossible. Not in my lifetime. You've got to be fucking kidding.

"I wasn't lying. Except for this itching, I feel better than I have since Zephryn torched me. Could use some water, though." I licked my chapped lips. "And why is it so fucking hot in here?"

Anaria turned toward me, enough for me to see her freckles standing out in stark relief against her pale face, the fear shining in her eyes. "Tristan is going to fly to the Wynter Palace and make sure it's still secure. Raz will head to Whitehall to find food and water. Enough for two days." She held up her hand when I went to protest.

"That is an order. You will rest. You said you're tired. You sleep, and I'll bring you food as soon as Raziel returns. In the meantime, we'll give you some space." She moved toward the door. "Get some sleep. I'll be back the minute we have fresh water and something to eat."

I heardthem whispering when they retreated down the hall.

Not the words, but their rushed, panicked tone.

Something was fucking wrong.

I tried laying on my back, but that was a fucking no go, so I flopped onto my stomach, folded my arms beneath my head, crushed a pillow beneath my chin, and replayed everything that had happened in the past few days.

Okay, so the magic had torn my freshly healed back apart, but I'd gotten worse wounds during training exercises. Gods, even Raziel had cut me up worse than yesterday's clusterfuck.

But this wasn't steel, this was magic.

I shut that annoying little voice down.

Reached up over my shoulder and prodded one of the bumps. Not an infection, though the area was warm to the touch. Whatever lay beneath the skin was hard, like a broken bone that had healed wrong, or…I prodded the thing again. A bunch of smaller bones, shifting like dry tinder beneath my fingers.

They felt odd, sharp almost, like no other bones in my body.

I matched Anaria's hard, desperate swallow, the warm darkness closing around me, sweat pooling in the small of my back. My magic seeped out of me and soaked into the moist air, hot and humid enough for me to pretend this was a late summer day and it was too hot to move.

That all I wanted to do was rest.

My eyes slid closed and sleep wrapped its weighty fingers around my thoughts and plucked them away, leaving a blank space in my mind to be filled with dreams.

And then I was flying again, Anaria by my side.