Page 74 of On Brutal Thrones

Please.

My magic tears through me with every command.

Ten feet left.

A spell explodes against a stalk beside us.

Five.

Acid sprays behind my heels.

Three.

“Nyx!” Thorian shouts.

I don’t know what he’s warning me about.

I just run.

Then sunlight disappears beneath the shade of the trees, and my boots hit solid forest ground. We’re out.

The connection snaps. Every plant in the field vanishes from my awareness at once, and the sudden emptiness is almost as shocking as feeling them in the first place.

I take one more step. My knees buckle. Someone catches me before I hit the ground. Strong arms close around me, and I hear one of the guys shouting my name, but the sound already seems far away.

My hands won’t stop shaking. My entire body is soaked with sweat. My head throbs with every heartbeat, and somewhere beneath all of it is one stunned, exhausted thought.

I did it. I got us through.

Then the forest disappears, and the world goes black.

10

Nyx

With my head in Thorian’s lap and my feet resting across Talon’s thighs, I’m more comfortable than I’ve been in what feels like forever. I don’t want to move.

I woke a little while ago to the sound of Fenric preparing dinner and Thorian arguing with Talon about where to build the fire. Neither of them seemed surprised when I opened my eyes. They just told me to rest, and for once, I listened.

A fire flickers between us, its warmth sinking into my chilled skin while smoke curls toward the darkening sky. We’ve made camp on a small cliff outcropping overlooking the valley below, far enough from the field of killer flowers that I can’t see them anymore. I still sneeze every so often, a final, irritating reminder of how close we came to dying.

“Bless you,” Fenric says from across the fire.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve said that.”

“And I’ll say it a fifth.”

Talon’s hand moves lazily over my shin. “Personally, I think we should be concerned that the flowers are still trying to kill her from this distance.”

I smile. “I think I have enough pollen in my nose to grow one.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Thorian says.

His tone is so serious that I laugh, and his fingers tighten gently in my hair.

The sound feels good. Normal. After everything that happened today, I wasn’t sure I had any laughter left in me.

I look from Thorian to Talon, then across the fire to Fenric, and relief moves through me so strongly that my eyes sting. We all made it. All four of us. There were too many moments today when that outcome seemed impossible.