“Hold on, stop, stop, I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” I screamed at whoever was coming to takebothof their lives.
I quickly called the Destruction Magic forward and it pooled in my hands like thick ash with sparks of fire. I never practiced with it, so calling it forward after suppressing it for so long was like ecstasy.
It felt like my blood was burning, my very soul on fire. It whispered promises of retribution and vengeance in my ear—all I had to do was feed it, give into it. I closed my eyes and basked in its words.
Yes. We take everything from everyone who is taking everything from us.
I groaned as I pulled even more of my magic to my palms, ready to unleash the fires of hell upon the Warlord and his Mages, but a hand on my shoulder broke me from my reverie.
“If you do that, girl, you’ll kill everyone here. Everyone. You need toblock out its voice. It lies to you. I swear that what it’s promising is not worth it. It’s not worth your soul,” the voice—the General?—spoke softly and confidently. A note of sorrow in his tone.
“Trust me,” he whispered again.
I snapped my eyes open to see the terrified faces of the crowd as they tried to back away from the stage. My magic was no longer in my palms but swirling around my arms and bleeding into the air in small clouds. It had already attached to some of the leaves on the nearby trees, their remnants falling to the stage as ash.
“Deep breath and push it down. You can do this. Block it out. Don’t think about what you’re doing right now, there will be time for grief later. Right now, you need to bend its will to your own. That’s how you control it.” His words made more sense than Mistress Lautaro’s ever did.
I took a deep breath and pushed away the voice in my head, locking my Destruction Magic back in a box in my mind. The act was physically painful, and it felt like I was tearing off my own hand. Slowly, my magic retreated from my arms until it was a small ball in my hands once again.
The General squeezed my shoulder once before taking a small step back.
How did he know?
I shook my head, focusing on my decision.
Peytor or Finian. Would Peytor ever forgive me? Would Finian even survive the mines? He’s softer than Peytor. But Peytor may never look at me again.
I took a shaky breath and stepped forward to the two men who loved me more than anything. I closed my eyes and let my magic go.
Chapter 64
Faylinn
An anguished scream tore from both the man on the stage and the girl with the magic so similar to Rohak’s.
“NO! ELLOWYN, NO!!” His voice cracked and broke from the ferocity of his scream as his lover turned to ash in front of his eyes. He crawled to where his lover once knelt, scooping the ash into his hands. “How COULD you? HOW COULD YOU, ELLOWYN?!”
“Peytor . . .” Ellowyn’s voice was small and broken, her magic now tucked away, her body shook as her eyes widened.
She was in shock.
I was well and personally acquainted with the symptoms, especially after Holt’s death and the rebel attack.
I moved to hold her, at least to keep her from collapsing. But Rohak beat me there. In two quick strides, he pulled the girl to his chest, one arm banded across the top, the other holding her stomach. At that moment, her legs gave out and she made a low keening sound.
Goosebumps erupted on my skin.
That wasn’t just a cry of pain, it was a cry of a soul shattering into a million tiny irreparable pieces.
My mind was instantly in “Healer mode,” cataloguing her injuries and the possible tonics I could use to ease her pain—it was a way for me toprotect myself when something horrific happened, it helped me focus—but I doubted there was any way to heal this type of hurt.
Mages quickly made their way to the front of the stage where they forcibly dragged Peytor away from the pile of ashes.
“FINIAN! FINIAN!” he was still screaming, his words becoming more incoherent the farther he was taken from what remained of his lover. His eyes were crazed as they swiveled to his sister. “I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU! You didn’t listen to me! You were supposed to trust me!” he brokenly screamed repeatedly as he was dragged off the stage and into the temple at our backs, no doubt to be restrained until he could be sent to the mines.
I shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
The crowd was growing restless, the Pleasure Magic from earlier doing little to settle the growing hostility and frustrations that were compounded by fear from Ellowyn’s impressive display of magic.
