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“I didn’t!” My voice cracked. “It wasn’t me!”
The black eye of the eclipse peered in at me through the bedroom window, watching as I denied the claim again and again, doubting it more each time.
And then I was outside, looking in, watching as I hung out the window on a stormy night, willing the lightning to strike my house and burn it to ash. Hands extended, I shouted at the black clouds. Thunder growled. Bright blue lightning split open the sky and speared my childhood house. Flame erupted, consuming everything.
It was the fire bell that woke me from my rage trance and made me realize what I had done. I screamed and cried and tried to open the door so I could get to them, save them. But it was too late.
“I’m sorry!” The words spilled out of my mouth then and now. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry!”
But I had.
Hellion had taught me that there were three things needed for any spell. Power, which I had, even at that young age. Somehow. I had the will to command the sky, theaudacity.
And murder had been my intent.
That was what terrified me most of all. Not death or loneliness or even the fire itself. My greatest fear was of me, what I could do, who Ireallywas. I had feared it so much I had tucked the details of that night into a box deep in my mind, locked it away and forgotten. I had willed the memory away by burying it so deep my conscious mind would never find it. All this time, I had known who and what I really was. I’d just refused to believe it.
Now, here it was, staring me in the eye, leaving me nowhere to run.
The world spun, moving me back through time, back to the beginning. It played again and again on an endless loop, and I had to watch.
This is who I am. Murderer. Liar. Unworthy. Afraid. So afraid that I forgot.
Murderer. Liar. Coward. Unworthy and unloved.
No. That wasn’t true. Someone had loved me. I just couldn’t remember their faces, but I was sure they were out there, waiting for me, loving me even now, when I was so far beyond their reach.
Something fought through the constant replay of fire and anger unfolding in front of me. The gentle touch of a Nightmare, the whisper of encouragement from another, the soft kisses of lovers so light they were barely there.
But theywerethere. I could feel them out there, somewhere, reaching through space, time, and whatever magic had gripped me.
“They don’t love you. No one loves you,” the voice of cool flame hissed in my ear. “Only I can love you.”
I looked down at the lightning snaking through my hands, solid threads of it forming just as they had on the battlefield when I faced the ivory dragon. I flexed my fingers around the threads, grabbing them like the handle of a sword.
No, not a sword.
Ahammer.
“Come to me,” said the flame. “Only I can protect you.”
“I don’t know who you are,” I spat at the sky, “but I know who I am. I’m a blacksmith, and I make my own story. You have no power over me!”
Threads of liquid fire cooled into the familiar black iron surface of an anvil. I lifted my hammer and brought it down with a mighty clang. Sparks woke at my command. The world quaked, cracks forming throughout the dream. It broke apart all at once, the world shattering into a million black pieces like a broken mirror.
I fell into it, helpless to stop myself.
Iwokeinafamiliar bed.
Cian’s bed.
At first, I thought I was still dreaming. It had been so long since I’d been back at the castle, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have four solid walls around me. It didn’t feel real.
Then everything that had happened came rushing back all at once, crushing the air out of my lungs.
Breathe. I closed my eyes against the rush of images and thoughts, forcing my lungs to inflate. I was safe. I was back at the castle in Ezulari, which meant I had survived the Shadow Rite and secured Cian the army he so badly needed. The dragon had been lamed, and though our forces were outnumbered four to one, we had the castle and a chance.
The doors squeaked open, and Will stepped in, the biggest, warmest smile on his face. “Good morning, Nevahn.”
