Page 172 of Fate of the Sun King

I wonder what’s happening in Aphelion. How are Willow and Tristan? What happened with Gabriel and the king? Where is Nadir?

I can’t let all of these questions derail my focus right now. I have to get out of here. Then I can sort through the events of that strange encounter in the Evanescence, though I can’t be sure any of it was real.

Slowly, I peel my eyes open to slits, hoping no one notices I’m awake. Soldiers march beside me on horses, the top halves of their bodies visible over the edge.

I’m surrounded on all sides by the Aurora King’s guard.

Is Nadir also tied up or riding next to his father as they cart me back to The Aurora yet again? Rion’s words ring through my head.

Thank you so much for telling me where I’d find her.

More words come back to me with the damning clarity of a silver bell.

That way lies only heartbreak.

I twist my hands, but my bindings hold tight—they’re made of a cold, hard material that chafes against my skin. A surge of magic shoots through my limbs, calling up a sigh of relief, though I know I will forever live in terror of having my magic locked away again.

I wish I could gauge how many people surround us. How far does this line go? If I use my magic on those in my immediate perimeter, will I be met with more soldiers? Where is Rion? Is he traveling close to me or far away?

None of this really matters. All I know is I have to try. I can’t let them take me up the road we’re traveling. Only bloodshed waits for me at the end.

I pray no one is looking too closely as I focus on the spark inside my chest, preparing to blast out my power. It already feels like an old friend. Will the restraints prevent me from accessing it? I have no idea how to do this without using my hands.

I squeeze my eyes shut, sure that I have only one chance.

I cannot let Rion take me back to The Aurora.

My magic stirs inside me like a pot of boiling water. I feel it fizzing against my skin, the sensation so different from what I’m used to. It’s alive and electric and bubbling under the surface. Bright, loud sparks that sing and hum. I don’t have to try anymore.

Why did Rion leave me like this? Does he still think me harmless? He had to have seen what I did in the throne room.

“Hey!” comes a voice, and something hard pokes me in the back. “Shut up, bitch! Alert His Majesty! She’s awake!”

I don’t think. I just react.

Magic erupts from my hands, blowing apart my bindings as it pours out of me. I can’t control it. I don’t try to. I want them all to bleed. As it courses through me, I remember how I felt in the throne room, invincible and capable of tearing apart the sky.

It surges and pulses, destroying everything around me. I struggle to stand and then stop, curling my magic back into my hands, surveying the spoils of my victory. That same dome of lightning I used on the Aurora King in the Heart Castle surrounds us, only now it’s at least ten times larger. And this time, I didn’t just cage them—this time I destroyed them.

The air crackles with static, and my hair floats off my face from currents of sparking electricity. Bodies surround me. Soldiers in uniform. These bastards who thought they’d keep me caged. I taste blood and cold satisfaction, doused in the pitch-black fantasies of my revenge.

At my feet lie the pieces of a glowing blue material I presume were the tethers binding my arms. I pick one up, studying it, recalling that Tyr wore the same thing around his wrists and throat.

But I toss it away when I spy a familiar body lying in the charred grass. The outlines of his achingly beautiful profile unmistakable across the distance. I’d know that face from a million miles and buried in a thousand layers of brick and stone.

I’m already moving. I jump down from the cart and sprint, skidding to my knees in the dirt.

“Nadir!” I scream, grabbing him by the shoulders, pressing my ear to his chest, registering only the faintest heartbeat.

Gods, what have I done? There’s no wound that I can see. No blood. Nothing that I can heal.

I shake him by the shoulders. His hands are bound behind his back with cuffs made of the same glowing blue stone, forcing him to lie at an awkward angle.

“Nadir, wake up!” I scream, tears slipping off the tip of my nose. “Wake up!”

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. If I press my cheek to his mouth, he barely breathes.

What have I done?