Page 227 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

A tether snaps.

Power surges upward, ripping free, rising from unknown depths within my core that are now split open like the fiery gates in Velmira’s underworld kingdom.

The force is nothing like the light I’ve wielded before.

It’s molten. It’s fire. It’s out of my control.

Finally, the voice sighs.

My arms burn.

The marks scream.

Sluggish thoughts attempt to rise in the inferno, but I never get the chance.

The power detonates.

Like the explosives used to carve mines in Verdanthia, the blast shatters everything. Heat, fire, and smoke soar into the air. The ground trembles.

The force slams into me and hurls me backwards. I fly through the air until gravity takes hold.

My weakened limbs can’t brace myself, but I do have the clarity of mind to note that Anders and Silas are also tossed back just before I hit the sand.

A jolt of pain ricochets from my tailbone up my spine, and my head snaps back.

I collapse, facing up. The stars above shift and dance, in and out of focus.

Two loud splashes follow. Then⁠—

“What in The Mother was that?” Silas shouts from a distance.

Water sloshes.

I can’t lift my head.

I’m drained in a way I’ve never experienced. Like all the magic in my veins has flown free after that tether snapped, taking all my energy with it.

More water sloshes, followed by someone coughing roughly.

“That was her magic, you moron,” Anders clips out.

“Why did it go off like a bomb?” Silas snaps back.

“You’re supposed to be the smart one. Figure it out.”

I stare at the stars, counting their twinkles, grateful when they stop their disorienting dance and stay in one place.

“Did her…” Silas’s next words are quiet, but I hear them as if he speaks them right next to me. “Did her power finally unlock?”

That gives me the strength to turn my head.

I’m lying parallel to the shore. The boat bobs on the water, seemingly unaffected by my magical outburst.

Silas and Anders are both soaked, slogging through the shallow water back to the dock.

The Mountain Fae raises his hands in a slow clap. “Very good, Silas. We will go against your father’s wishes and make a proper scholar of you yet.”

Silas scowls. He reaches the dock, plants his hands on the wooden surface, and leaps out of the water. He stomps toward shore.