Page 169 of By the Flames of Her Fury

“Our decision is final.”

“No—I know,” I said hastily. “But there are people in this world I love. People I need to make sure are taken care of.”

“A noble thought, little phoenix,”

“But the lives of a few are not worth the fate of all.”

“Maybe not to you, but they are to me. I promised I would fight for them. I know the High Elders have to be stopped, and the only way to do that is to take away their vessel. But—” A thought slammed into me, so hard it knocked the breath from my lungs.

The ritual only works if they still have a vessel from which to draw magic. That was what the Fates said. It wasn’t my life the High Elders needed.

It was my magic.

“What if I didn’t have magic anymore?” I asked, my gaze snapping between all three figures. The fog stilled. The air became silent, as if we all held our breaths.

“What do you propose?”

“Take away my magic,” I said, steadier this time. “If you remove it completely, then there’s nothing for them to draw from. They’ll still fail, and I’ll still live.”

Their forms rustled, swaying closer. “You would surrender your power?” one asked.

“If it’s between that or my life, yes. Now nobody will ever be able to use the power of the Lightbringer again.”

My decision came without hesitation. My magic had defined so much of my life. It was what I thought made me Vera Duma, the most powerful Veridian to ever live. But I didn’t need magic to make me powerful. I was powerful in spite of it. I could still bring justice to those who had gone before me, and I could still free those held in cages like I once was. It didn’t take magic to fight.

The Fates’ response was a single word. “Why?”

A smile crept up my lips. “Because I’m not done.”

The golden fog swirled with whispers, as if the Fates were speaking to one another. My heart—if I still had one in this in-between space—pounded in anticipation.

Then the light inside the fog swelled. “As you wish.”

Faster than I could blink, the smoke shot at me like three outstretched hands, tearing straight through my chest. My back arched as a gasp left me. I could feel them pulling at my magic, my essence, gripping it by the threads and unraveling the pieces.

My Alchemy came first, severed at the core. Then my illusions, my Strider magic, my lightning. My shadows were dragged, wisp by wisp. And then…my flames. My phoenix half let out a mournful wail as its claws were extricated from my heart, leaving a hollowness in its wake.

My chest heaved from the loss. I sank to my knees, and the fog shrouded around me.

“It is over,” a Fate said.

“The conduit is broken.”

“Stand, Vera Duma,” the three of them said. The fog shifted into fingers and flew to my chin, tugging me back to my feet. I swayed as I stood, weightless and empty, a yawning pit settling in my chest.

“Now will you send me back?” I whispered.

“We will send you back,” one agreed.

The fog picked up, swirling in great clouds at my feet. “We have seen many things, little phoenix,” the voice echoed.

“Death and life, battles lost and won.”

“But one thing we know for certain,” their voices joined together, the golden fog rising around me as the wind whipped my hair into a frenzy, “Is that you, Vera Duma, are not done.”

I opened my eyes, and the world exploded.

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