Page 72 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

It crashed into the edge of the blight, bursting through it like water against a rocky shore. It was an absence of light, its darkness blacker than the blight itself, broken only by the points that sparkled in its yawning density. The blight resisted her efforts, clawing back at her nightfire, trying to consume it, too. It didn’t want to be restrained. It wanted to run free.

Zarya hung on, shaking as it overwhelmed her fire, and she feared she didn’t have the strength to stop it. That’s when she noticed the sixth anchor had broken free from the cage where she’d tried to keep it contained.

Forbidden and seductive. A demon wreathed in silk. Fire built from whispers.

Zarya wanted to resist its lure.

Darkness.

She didn’t know what it would mean if she took its hand and allowed it entry into her life. If it would change everything.

But the city was crumbling around them, and she had to protect Amrita. Maybe she had no choice. Maybe everything she’d been through, from her captivity to the revelations of her past and the people who created her, had all been leading to this moment.

If she leaned into the sixth anchor, it might be a step from which she could never return, but she had to take that chance. Hoping it wasn’t a mistake she’d regret forever, Zarya channeled the darkness into the heart of her anchor, and her magic exploded in a shower of sparks, flowing out of her in tumbling waves.

Nightfire raced over the blight, soothing it, stroking it, seducing it into a trance. It slowed and stilled, her senses reaching out to discover what called. A wave of shadow crested and tumbled down on her head, enveloping, embracing, caressing. Darkness danced around her as black smoke swirled in her nose and lungs.

It wanted her. Her breath. Her life and heart and blood. It didn’t want to be soothed. It wanted to claim her as its own. It pulled, trying to extinguish the flickering light in her heart, but she held on, gritting out her resolve.

Thankfully, her fire was stronger. She was stronger.

Zarya felt her magic draining, pulling through her veins as waves surged out of her, spilling in torrents, tumbling over everything in its path. Sweat dripped into her eyes, and her muscles trembled as she clung to the unimaginable flood of power.

Just when she wasn’t sure she could hold on any longer, a hand, large and warm, engulfed hers. With a tight squeeze, a gush of strength billowed into Zarya as her flickering flame flared with renewed brightness, feeding her more power. Finally, the blight’s strangle loosened a fraction. She sensed its surprise at her resistance.

Zarya closed her eyes, digging deeper into the magic inside her. The blight retreated as she forced it back. It drew away. Down the streets, past buildings and slain bodies, through the gates and over the walls, and deep into the swamp.

Zarya finally released her trapped breath, letting go of her six anchors. The darkness whipped away from the rest, retreating to its cave. Her fire expended for now, it left an absence in her heart, like a piece had been hollowed out.

The blight rolled off as her vision cleared. Rabin hunched down next to her, one knee to the ground, his hand still gripping hers. Slowly, he looked up, and their gazes caught.

The city was quiet. Blackness surrounded them on all sides, everything in ruin, but the blight had stopped advancing, at least for now. And it hadn’t reached Amrita.

Unsteady on her feet, Zarya stood, black spots bursting her vision. She stumbled, but Rabin caught her, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her in close, resting his chin against her forehead.

“Zarya,” he murmured into her hair. “I lied. I feel it, too.”

She looked up at him, and everything went black.

TWENTY

Zarya woke up inside the palace, lying in the same bed where she’d slept before. Her surroundings were quiet except for the dull roar of crashing waves outside. Her body didn’t so much ache as it felt like it had been drained of everything.

She recalled the last thing she remembered. Looking up at Rabin as she fainted in his arms. Had she imagined those words he’d said?

I lied. I feel it, too.

What did that mean, and why had he chosen that particular moment to enlighten her and fuck with her head a little more?

She slid out of bed and slowly stood. Her limbs felt hollowed out like someone had removed all her bones and piled them into a corner. She padded over to the mirror, noting the dust that coated her hair and clothing.

She looked the same. A strange sense of relief flooded through her. What had she expected? Horns or a tail to sprout now that she had embraced her darkness? But even with no visible change on the outside, she couldn’t quell the thoughts running through her mind. A truth that had been scraping at her subconscious for some time now.

The blight wanted her and had been chasing her for months. Not months. Maybe years. The magic she once believed benign and useless was inexplicably tied to the entity plaguing Daragaab. She was sure of it.

Did this mean she was the one who could stop it?

Did Row and Dhawan know this was possible?