Page 171 of By the Flames of Her Fury

Around me, the High Elders convulsed. Smoke rose from their flesh, as if they were burning from the inside out. Flakes of skin landed at their feet.

“What is the meaning of this?” Julius croaked. His gold eyes were frantic as he watched the thread of life pour from his chest.

“Please, Vera!” Maeve begged. Clumps of her auburn hair singed and fell out. “You can stop this!”

“How many of your people pleaded with you?” I boomed. I stood on the altar, wings spread wide behind me. “How many did you watch burn as you took their life?”

“Never again,” Arcadia rasped. “We will never harm another again. Let us leave with our lives, Lightbringer.”

“Tell me why you did it,” I urged. “Tell me why you slaughtered all those innocent people!”

“The Fates cursed us,” Arcadia panted. “You don’t know what it’s like, being trapped here for centuries. Pyraeth begged for freedom that would never come.” His cheeks sunk, and the color slowly faded from his face. He looked as gaunt as a corpse with the shadows of my fire wavering over him.

“We gave those people a purpose beyond death,” Julius wailed. “We lived so we could keep finding a way to save them all.”

“Is that what you’ve told yourself this whole time?” I spat. “It’s because of you that there’s almost no one left to save.”

“We beg of you!” Arcadia cried. Ash sprinkled his skin from the flames coming from inside of himself. “Have mercy!”

“You can beg all you want.” I flexed my wings. “But the Fates aren’t listening, and neither am I.”

Their final dregs of magic pulsed into the amulet, into me, and the light flared as bright as the sun. With shouts of anguish, the threads snapped away from the Elders. They crumpled to the ground, nothing but scorched flesh and husks of their own making. My phoenix fire leapt to their bodies, devouring what was left.

I collapsed into the altar and gasped for breath. Ancient power hummed beneath my skin. The Fates…they had given it back. All of it. But now, the power felt different.

In my prison, it was suppressed. In Scarven’s hold, it was weaponized. Even in my freedom, it was an anomaly.

Now, it was simply mine.

Tears of disbelief stung the backs of my eyes. Beneath the release was an undercurrent of heartache, a moment of remembrance for all the years I spent hating this part of myself, all the energy I poured into wishing I was different.

I pressed my hand to my sternum and felt all six humming against my palm. Shadows and light and fire, moving through me like water after a long drought. Wild and hopeful and free.

My magic spiked as another figure burst into my line of sight. Mortep, who had disappeared before the magic could consume him too, now rushed the platform. He yanked the amulets off Maeve and Arcadia’s burnt bodies.

“Once again,” he hissed, “I must do everything myself.”

He slammed the two amulets together. But before they connected, an otherworldly shriek filled the air. Shadows descended on Mortep, wrapping around his wrists and forcing them apart. Mortep hissed a spell that shot a wave of magic at the shadow wraith, sending it sailing backward.

“No!” I gasped, unsure why I was suddenly scared for this wraith. It looked like the ones that had ambushed us at the crypt. But why was it here? And why had it helped me?

Mortep’s magic didn’t keep it down for long. The wraith surged again, reaching for the Alchemist with its finger-like shadows. It latched onto his shoulder, and Mortep went rigid, unable to move.

The wraith slowly turned its head to me. It had no face, just a pit of blackness, but small pinpricks of light rested where eyes should’ve been. And…I could’ve sworn something familiar gleamed back.

My breath caught in my throat, not daring to believe it.

The ground quaked as a mighty roar rumbled from deep in the earth. The altar cracked in half, sending me tumbling to the floor. The wraith released Mortep and flew toward me. Cold, smoky fingers pressed into my chin to lift me, making the hair on the back of my neck rise.

But its touch didn’t bring the same wave of darkness it had that day at the crypt. This wraith was gentle as its shadows guided me back to my feet. I stood, frozen in place, with the faintest of shadows caressing my cheek.

“Swift?” I breathed out.

Magic blasted at us, and the wraith careened through the air. I whirled to face Mortep, who had regained his mobility.

“You’ve already lost, Mortep!” I shouted, distracting him from attacking the wraith again. “There’s nothing left to hide behind! No Scarven, no High Elders, none of your precious puppets.”

He scoffed. “Them? They were all blind.” He tilted his head. “Scarven wanted power for power’s sake. He was short-sighted, in the end. Why rule an empire when you can claim something greater?” He waved a hand at the ashes of the Elders behind him. “They were wiser, but they were driven by envy. Desperation.”