Page 183 of Serpent and Shadow

A different set of fingers squeezed tightly.

“It’s off,” Jolie said, her voice a little blurry, but also sounding relieved. There was a bare pause, then her words grew scolding. “You nearly killed yourself to do it,” she said accusingly. “You nearly bloody burned yourself to death, you idiot. You’ve carved a line in your own throat halfway down to the bone––”

“It was reckless, son,” the Irish voice said, matter of fact. “Greythorne went outside to puke. He was sure he’d killed you. He told us you were still channeling magic for a few seconds even after you passed out.”

Caelum barely heard any of that.

He’d closed his eyes at Jolie’s first two words, and now he just sprawled on his back on the cold stone, breathing hard as he felt his magic coil and pool around him.

He couldn’t remember when he’d ever felt so relieved to feel his own magic. It was strange how that fiery, hot, mostly-uncontrollable force, which had been the bane of his existence since he’d been born, could be something he’d miss so much he was nearly in tears.

He could already feel it working on the pain on his throat in some way.

“It’ll heal,” he croaked, mostly to reassure the others. “Can already feel it working.”

“It was still idiotic,” Jolie snapped.

He couldn’t help it, he smiled.

He opened his eyes, barely, and saw her scowl falter as she looked at him in astonishment. Had she never seen him smile before?

Fuck. Maybe she hadn’t.

She shoved at his shoulder a minute later, and scowled again.

“Asshole,” she said.

He chuckled; he couldn’t help it.

That hurt badly enough he winced and grimaced more, and then he was trying to sit up. Arcturus grabbed his arm and shoulder, then Darragh grabbed his back. Caelum was stunned when he looked to his other side and saw Joran gripping his other shoulder, holding him upright. They all helped him pull his upper body off the stone, then adjust himself to a sitting position.

Then he was hanging over his knees and thighs, gasping as he fought dizziness.

He could still feel his magic, though.

He felt it writhe around him like a living, breathing fire. Now that he could feel all of himself again, Caelum really only had one question.

His voice came out a touch harder that time, but also clearer.

“Who’s coming to Malcroix with me to get my wife?”

39

Favor

I’d never felt so powerless in my life. Not even watching my parents die in front of me, or watching Sirena take Bones through that mirror. Not even when my brother got kidnapped out of what was supposed to be the most secure complex in all of Magique.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream.

My body felt disturbingly, horrifyingly weak, like that of a newborn kitten. I could feel it getting weaker every second, every breath I took.

It was like watching oneself age and die in fast-forward.

Every instant inside that magic ripped away years.

My chest felt like an enormous weight lay on top of it, even though I remained kneeling and mostly upright. My mind fell into darkness. That whole part of me submerged into a fog so dense and deep, I couldn’t feel anything outside of it, couldn’t make sense of its nauseating churn. I grasped for some part of myself anyway, for some kind of meaning. I fought to move my mind forward, to make it function in straight lines, but my thoughts only slid further from my grasp the harder I strained for them.

Malefic began chanting louder.