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“Left, around the corner!” Gene yelled.
I sprinted to the left, slid a little across the polished floor, and rounded the corner. Another short hallway ended in a door marked TOWER ACCESS. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. I hit it. Locked.
I kicked the door. It held.
I didn’t have time for this shit. I kicked it again.
It splintered around the lock and swung open, revealing a spiral staircase. I pounded up the metal stairs and burst into the tower. A waist-high wall encircled a square space under a domed roof. The bell was right above me.
I leaped over the wall and landed on the roof. The town spread out below me. Good enough.
I unsheathed Sarrat and took a deep breath.
Magic stirred inside me, a heavy dense mass that had slumbered deep in my soul.
Wind fanned my hair. The sun shone bright. Everything became crystal clear, as if someone had turned a dial, bringing the world into sharper focus.
I had done this a hundred times in practice, but I’d truly meant it only once. Every cell in my body remembered how that first time felt. The power of it. The burden. The weight of life and the heady flow of magic it generated.
A distant sound split the air, like an enormous slingshot snapping. A huge, dark object shot up above the forest, an ominous darkness growing larger as it sped toward us.
“Good Lord,” Gene breathed.
“What the fuck?” Troy snarled.
It had to be now.
I raised my sword point down, locking both hands on the hilt, and the ocean of magic inside me rose with it, building into a massive wave. A tsunami cresting.
The object had reached its apex. It was a bulb the size of a house. The forest had decided to devastate Penderton.
My body shook with the strain. There would be no do-overs.
On the street someone screamed.
The bulb was flying straight at us. Its bulk blocked out the sun.
I plunged Sarrat into the roof.
The wave inside me broke. Its power jerked me off my feet. I rose into the air. The geyser of magic burst out of me, pulling my arms out wide and arching my back. Words appeared on my arms, a poem written in the language of power and etched into my skin in the womb.
I opened my mouth and spoke with all the power of my blood.
“HESAAD.” Mine.
A pulse of red shot out of me, rolling over the town. My magic drenched the land. I felt it touch the wall and roll past it, over the farms and settlements, into the woods. I let it go for another couple hundred yards and held it back. That would be enough.
In a split second, my magic had soaked into Penderton, and the land responded, its power flooding back into me like a clear mountain stream. I wrapped myself in it, soaking in its energy and strength, and focused on the bulb falling onto the courthouse.
The bulb ignited. It was a flameless burning. It glowed like a piece of charcoal, turned to ash, and melted into nothing.
I closed my eyes and reached with my power, looking for the minuscule sparks of spores embedded in my land. A moment and I found them. All of them. They lay before me like a dusting of glitter across black velvet.
I snuffed them out.
The magic dropped me like a bad habit. I landed on my butt and slid down the slope. The edge of the roof rushed at me. I dug my feet into the shingles and ground to a stop just before taking a dive onto the pavement below.
Phew.
If I claimed the land and then faceplanted to my death on the street, I’d never live it down.
Troy hopped over the rail, ran across the roof as if his feet were glued to it, and braked next to me. “I’ve got you.”
Rimush landed on my other side and locked his hand around my wrist. “Apologies, Sharratum. I must not let any harm come to you.”
“I’m good,” I growled.
I climbed back up the slope, with the two of them hovering behind me, ready to grab me if I slipped. Roofs were not my favorite. Being hovered over wasn’t either.
We made it back to the tower. Mayor Gene gaped at me.
I gave him a little wave and climbed over the rail to the safety of the tower.
“Was that—”
“No time,” I told him and took off down the stairs.
The explanations would wait. Curran was fighting prehistoric manticores, and I had a score to settle for Foster’s death.
I ran to the ground floor, across the chamber, and burst into the autumn sunshine, my two self-appointed bodyguards at my heels.
A big, gray shape sprinted toward the courthouse, coming recklessly fast down the street. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him run so fast. I had done the thing I told him over and over I’d never do, and now he raced here, worried about me.
