Page 100 of The Twisted Mark


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The fight starts before I can gather my breath. Power is absolutely radiating out of the two of them, mingling in the air above until I can’t tell which spells belong to whom. I’ve seen both of them fight other people before, and it’s always been over in seconds. No one can stand against either of them. But they can stand against each other in perfect balance.

There’s a physical pressure in the room, as though a storm’s about to break. In my mind’s eye, Bren’s power is red, Gabriel’s green, and the two meet in mid-air, mingling in the middle. Their exertions cast an eerie light that illuminates the stained glass and reflects off the polished wood and brass of the pews and candleholders.

I run over to the limits of the bubble they’ve cast around their makeshift arena. “Stop it!”

I claw at the incorporeal barrier, visualising it collapsing. But it’s no good. However much power I can muster, there’s no way I’m capable of breaking through a protection bubble created by the combined powers of Gabriel and Brendan.

Each of their spells are repelling the other like magnets and forcing the two men backwards as though shoved by a huge invisible hand. I can’t take my eyes away from the scene.

I alternate between screaming at them until my voice is hoarse and launching magic at the barrier until my hands are trembling, but none of it makes the slightest bit of difference.

I’m not quite sure what suddenly gives Gabriel the upper hand. Maybe he finds some strength even he didn’t know he had, or maybe Brendan lets something slip. Everything’s moving too fast for my brain to keep up. Either way, Brendan drops to the floor, and his magic falls away. Gabriel towers over him, hands raised, presumably intending a killing blow.

I run over to the edge of the bubble. “Please, Gabriel. Please don’t do this. For all your faults, I’d forgive you practically anything else. But kill my brother, whatever he’s done wrong, and there can be no future for us.”

It’s unclear if he still cares about all that after I tried to kill him, even if I did bring him back, but it’s got to be worth a shot.

Brendan nods. “We can figure this out.”

Gabriel’s hands are trembling. It’s not like he hasn’t killed people before. He didn’t hesitate before blowing a hole in Connor’s chest, for a start. Not to mention what he did to his father.

“You’re the one who wanted a duel,” Gabriel says. “You’re the one who laid accusations at my feet. Give me one good reason not to strike.”

“Unlike you, I don’t have two reasons,” Bren replies. “I don’t even have one. But I’ve got a bet to place.”

Gabriel’s still hesitating, which is more than I could ever have hoped for. I lift my hands experimentally. They’re both weakened. Could I summon enough force to blast a hole in the bubble then knock both of them out and give things time to deescalate?

“My little sister told me an interesting story,” Brendan continues.

I frown, hands frozen. What on earth is he talking about?

“She told me about the moment you killed Connor Colson. How she had enough power to bring him back to life or to kill you, but not both. And how she chose hate over love. Well, I say love… I guess it was only really lust that existed between her and Connor.

“But it got me thinking. No one has enough power to resurrect with one hand and kill with the other, not even the two of us. And someone who’sactuallyin love would choose to save their beloved every time. I despise you, but before you made her betray me, I’d always have saved Leah instead of killing you.”

“What’s your point?” Gabriel hasn’t lowered his defences. He’s scrutinising Bren for any hint of a trick or distraction, the green-tinged magic still flickering at his fingers.

“You hate me as a concept, you hate me as a person, and you hate the things I do. There’s almost nothing that would give you more pleasure than killing me. But here’s my bet and here’s my escape route: I’m gambling everything that you’ll choose love over hate.”

I glance around, uncertain of his meaning.

Brendan lifts his hand and gathers every last strand of his magic into his palm.

Gabriel tightens his shield, but still doesn’t strike the final blow. Brendan’s managed to get under his skin.

Brendan draws a quick jagged shape in the air. He really must be exhausted if he’s resorting to hand signals, but it works. The bubble comes down from the inside out.

“Sadie, get your shield up!” Gabriel screams. He fires at Brendan, but my brother manages to roll aside and launch all the power he’s built up straight in my direction.

Despite everything, I’ve grown to trust Gabriel. Grown more and more sure that he’d never really hurt me. But I always keep my literal and metaphorical defences up when he’s around. If he’d turned towards me with fire in his eyes, I’d have had shields all around me in a second.

But despite all the hints in his words, the thought that my big brother might attack me has never even crossed my mind. So, in contradiction of all common sense, my shields stay down and my eyes stay wide until it’s too late.

I stand there, too stunned even to scream let alone to fight back, as Brendan’s killing blow cascades into me, and sends me crashing to the ground.

TWENTY-FIVE

I wake up in an unfamiliar bed, surrounded by a group of armed Thornber acolytes, who might be bodyguards or might be jailors.

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