A bullshit line fed to us in school by priests. Propaganda at its finest. The sun’s only purpose in this room is to illuminate the throne, painting the monarch to mimic the glowing appearance of a god.
My chained hands slip in blood as I try to press up. My head is heavy and clouded. All I want to do is lay back down and sleep. The throbbing in my head is so loud it almost sounds like my name.
Ivy, Ivy, Ivy.
“For fuck’s sake. IVY!”
The voice snaps me into consciousness and I force myself to turn toward it. Hair is matted over one of my eyes, and when I lift my hand to unstick it, I find a large gash at my hairline.A rivulet of scarlet decorates the white stone floor as it drips from my fingers.
“IVY!”
The voice draws my attention to a golden cage secured to the floor. Three bodies lay motionless in the square prison. Only their backs face me, each wearing black, rather than any color that could signify their identity.
“Ivy! Thank the gods! I thought you were dead.” The governor of Topaz stands at the edge of the cell grasping the bars in his hands. Silas’ blonde beard is stained red from the blood that streams from the wide cut that spans the length of his cheekbone.
“Wh...what…happened?” Words stick like honey in my mouth as I try to force them out.
“We were ambushed. They knew we were coming.” Silas waits for me to continue with my questioning but I can’t. My brain is foggy, barely able to form coherent thoughts. One name cuts through the haze, bouncing off the bony edges of my skull:Cal.
“Where?” I ask, the rest of the question not needing to be said aloud.
“They took the non-wielders to the dungeons and forced the rest of theaevusin here.”
Mustering all the strength left in my mind and body, I force myself to my feet and lunge towards the cell. The heavy metal chain pulls taut in a dull snap, sending me tumbling back to the ground. I follow the links with my eyes, from the iron manacles around my wrists to the large bolt that secures it to the stone floor.
I reach out for my magic, desperately calling for vines to snap the chain or shadowy decay to eat away at the metal, but nothing answers. Power hovers in my peripheral, visible but just out of reach. It dances around the corners of my vision but never comes close enough for me to grasp it.
“Marks personally took Murphy.”
Silas’ words only increase the urgency at which I call for my power. Over and over I silently scream for it, begging any god who will listen to grant me access. Physically, I am no match for Marks or the army of soldiers on his side. My only hope is my magic.
Without it, I am nothing. Without it, Death will take me slowly and painfully. Without it, Death will take Cal too.
“Our magic is gone, Ivy.” I snap my focus to the governor again as tears fill my eyes. “They forced a tonic down our throats.”
“No. No!NO!”
My voice echoes through the room as I scream, each word more forceful than the last, as if my defiance alone could wake me from this nightmare. I yank at the chain and claw at the iron cuffs on my wrists, desperate to free myself. I look inward, hopelessly searching for the slightest sign of my power.
“It didn’t have to be like this, Ivy.”
My barely contained panic increases at the sound of his voice. The cold, icy voice that belongs to none other than Lord General Marks. Time stills again, stretching thin as soulless gold eyes lock onto mine.
“If only you’d stayed in Emerald like a good little girl. But don’t worry, I will send your body back to your home … or what’s left of it, at least.”
“My home or my body?” I ask.
“Both.”
Marks tosses two ivory-handled blades across the throne room, the rune-carved alloy clanking against the stone floor as they bounce beyond reach. The air between us grows thick and cold as he laughs, causing my lungs to contract at the loss of oxygen.
Anger courses through me at his patronizing tone. He couldn't stop at villainizing me; no, he had to ransack my region,destroy my home, and kill my people. All as revenge for my mother’s deal with Nobus. With death a certainty, he thinks I will lay down and go quietly. He thinks I will submit, but he’s underestimated me for the last time.
I try once more to call to my magic, squeezing my fists and eyes over and over to no avail.
“You have no power. I made sure of that. Not today, and not any day in your miserable life.”
Marks flexes his magic again, forcing me to my knees as I claw at my throat for air. He kneels in front me, grabbing my chin to force my eyes to his.
