Page 33 of Crown of the Dunes

“Help! Somebody, help!” Aderyn shouted, already on her knees at the queen’s side, her hands on her face and neck checking for breath, a heartbeat—anything. Her usually steady, logical voice was laced with a pain I had never heard from her, no matter how dire the circumstance.

The surge of power within me fizzled like a half-extinguished fire, and I sensed clearly the spark of life in Aderyn, in an eagle passing by the window outside, even in the riders pounding up the stairs toward Aderyn’s cries.

But from Queen Ginevra, nothing.

Dead.

She was dead.

Because of me.

I had grabbed her magic and pushed it against the barrier when she’d still been so weak. And I was the one who had pushed for us to retrieve the Heart, even when I knew it would be dangerous. I had told myself it was to save the desert, but a small selfish part of me had also wished to have the Heart so I could bring Erix back.

I lurched forward, hands grabbing her face, uncaring that my fingers smeared the blood around her mouth and nose.

“No.” The word tore out of me in a broken sob.

I wanted to say more. To demand that she wake up. To scream that this wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen. That I could bring her son home to her if she just lived.

Instead, a wordless roar tore from my throat. The flow of power within me burst forth, destroying any remaining vestiges of the dam that had kept it at bay since my injury. The glass in all the lanterns in the room shattered and wind tore in through the window in a horrible, howling burst. Already, lightning crackled in the air, full of the earthy taste of magic.

Aderyn’s gaze shot to me, and her hand flew out to grab my shoulder.

“Keera!”

Somehow, the one word held so much. She didn’t shy away from me, even as I began to shake, but reached out with her other hand to hold both my shoulders.

It wasn’t the touch that could truly ground me in the storm of my magic, but it was enough for me to hold on to for a few seconds—the touch of a friend who had stood by me through my trials giving me a fingerhold on sanity. Enough for me to grit out a few words.

“Don’t let me hurt anybody,” I gasped. “The room—the room under the palace.”

My body heaved in horror even saying the words, but it was all I could do as my sanity was lost in an all-consuming wave.

I was vaguely aware of strong arms wrapping around me, alongside a cacophony of jostling and screaming. I paid no mind, only truly aware of the screeching of power. The only thing keeping my skull from exploding with the intensity of all of it was a tether in my gut that I gripped like a lifeline.

Then a slam, and it was all gone. The magic. The desert. Erix.

I opened my eyes and was greeted only by lifeless gray walls. Then it was my turn to scream and scream, until my voice was gone and I collapsed on the unforgiving floor in exhaustion.

Chapter eight

Erix

One moment I was striding toward the enclosure for a late-night visit with Alza, and the next I was on all fours in the sand. I didn’t know which was louder, the sudden storm of magic tearing through the fibers in my mind or the deafening silence immediately after. The oppressive quiet was accompanied by a sensation of emptiness, as if part of my brain had been ripped out of my skull, leaving me suddenly unbalanced.

Keera.

She was gone.

Footsteps hurried toward me, and I looked up into the face of Lord Nathaira, who must have been walking past. She opened her mouth as if to ask what had happened, but I didn’t give her the chance.

“Ready the warriors. We ride for Kelvadan.”

I pushed to my feet, not caring that she had found me doubled over on the ground. At any other time, I might have worried at another lord seeing any sign of weakness, especially the grasping Lord of Clan Padra. But they were all about to see how strong my fury could be.

“When, my Lord Viper?” he asked, scurrying alongside me as I took long strides toward the enclosure.

“Now.”