Page 190 of Fallacies

“Get inside!” I scream to the Sol.

He hones the black mass into a dagger and lances it through the hall.

It’s instinct to reach for Sol magic, but that well is almost completely dry, so I dive into the void of Rogue power beneath it.

It’s not nearly as controlled as I had intended when it bursts from my open palm, a swirl of black meeting his dagger head on. The collision cracks through the space, an explosion of onyx shards embedding themselves into the walls and crashing into the ground.

I surge forward before he can reload, lunging for his hands, and the movement surprises him enough that I’m able to grab both wrists and use my momentum to drag them down.

His upper body hinges forward, and my knee connects with his gut. I’m only able to get two kicks in before he rips my arms off and shoves me backwards.

His boot comes up as I stumble back, connecting perfectly with my chest.

I go sprawling onto the marble floor, my hip and shoulder taking the majority of the impact. Violent bursts of pain ricochet up and down my limbs as I push myself up, gritting against the ache.

More glass shatters, and when I manage to look back at the Rogue, his head is turned towards the servant passage.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He lunges for the Sol at the end of the line, and the older woman I’d been helping screams, clutching the arm of the man in front of her.

A careless blast of dark magic rips out of me, fueled by pure anger, and a whip of shadows lashes through the space between him and me. The end of it latches onto his ankle, and I yank back with all my strength, slamming the Rogue onto his face.

I pull some more, dragging him back, as far away as I can, shivering at the frigid chill sweeping through my limbs.

“Go!” I shout at the line of Sol—the line that has mercifully started moving.

The Rogue claws the floor to get to them, unable to get purchase on the smooth marble.

“Go!” I scream again, and the man urges the older woman forward, frantically helping her inside the passage.

The Rogue growls, jolting into a sitting position and aiming a magic-filled hand at the rope around his ankle.

I’ve just pushed myself to stand when it snaps, the sudden lack of resistance making me stumble backwards.

Reaching for more shadows, I dig deeper into the well of my father’s magic, but the Rogue I’m up against is quicker.

The dagger he sends spiraling across the room moves so fast I almost don’t see it. I manage to dart to the side, but he anticipates the movement and immediately sends another just like it.

I’m not able to move in time.

Pain explodes in my chest, bursting through every nerve ending and locking up every muscle in my body. It’s a frigid and brutal agony. The kind of cold that burns, and I don’t mean to scream, but the sharp sound bursts from my lungs before I can stop it.

My head collides with the hard floor, my vision spinning.

It’s a sensation unlike anything I’ve experienced. Numb. Dull. Splintering. Moving too fast through my limbs to even pinpoint its origin.

The Rogue is on me in seconds, leaning over my immobilized body, and I grit my teeth, desperate to squirm or crawl or roll out of his way. Anything.

“Who…the fuck…are you?” he sneers, thrusting the toe of his boot into my ribs.

A fresh wave of pain slices through me, and I bite my tongue against another scream, screwing my eyes shut as I try to catch my breath.

“Godsdamn Traitor,” he huffs, kicking my side hard enough to roll me back over.

Through my blurred vision, I see shadows moving over his arms, darkening his skin, and I brace myself for another strike, but it does absolutely nothing for the excruciating pain that lances through my body.

My back bows off the floor, a hoarse scream ripping from my throat, leaving it raw.