“Trust me,” Katell said, offering a small, uncertain smile. “Please?”
Pinaria’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Her mouth pressed into a hard line, but after a breath, she lowered her gaze and gave a single, trembling nod.
It was a crazy idea, and Dorias would be furious when he found out she put herself in danger again, but she saw no other way. She reached behind her breastplate and retrieved her vial of Laran’s Tears. Her hand trembled slightly as she uncorked it. The Tears would amplify her healing Gift—and more.
She tapped out three. Then four. Her breath quickened.
Five… six. Too many. But not enough might mean failure. And failure wasn’t an option.
She tossed them into her mouth and took the waterskin Arnza offered her. The taste was dirt on her tongue, but withinmoments, her magic surged through her veins, an inferno roaring to life.
Every edge of the world sharpened—every sound, every movement. Her body thrummed with power, and beneath it, something darker began to rise.
Bloodlust coiled in her chest like a serpent waking from sleep. Her breath came fast and ragged, her fists clenching as her Gift reached towards that shadowed well inside her, the one that had overwhelmed her in the Eighth Legion’s camp.
The one that summoned the voices that promised power in exchange for surrender.
Not again.
Jaw tight, she locked it down. She had to move before it took the choice from her.
Turning to Pinaria, she gave a single, sharp nod. “Now.”
Pinaria’s silvery-purple magic flared to life, and the Maiden’s shimmering barrier rippled, bending inwards with the fluid grace of silk. A crack formed, followed by a narrow opening, just wide enough.
Katell took a deep, grounding breath, then stepped forward.
The golden shield trembled in her grip as she raised it to shoulder height, its edge gliding just beneath the shifting veil of Pinaria’s magic. The barrier loomed on all sides, luminous and alive, molten glass radiating heat and prickling against her exposed skin.
Only the thin ribbon of Pinaria’s silvery-purple light kept it at bay.
Katell advanced, matching her pace to Pinaria’s light, boots crunching brittle grass. Sweat trickled down her spine, and her heart thundered with each step. Only an arm’s length in.
By the Moon…
“Steady,” Arnza urged from the opening at Pinaria’s side. “You can do this. Just a few more paces.”
To her left, the purple light split with a brittle crack. A sliver of the barrier slipped through. It brushed along Katell’s shoulder and seared her.
Sharp pain flared, stealing her breath. The scent of scorched leather filled her nose.
She hissed, and the shield wobbled in her grip. But then Pinaria’s magic surged, smoothing over the crack.
“I can’t hold much longer!” Pinaria called, strained.
Katell’s burned flesh was already knitting itself back together, but her pulse pounded faster.
Another step. Then another.
“Keep going!” she shouted. “Just a few more?—”
A second crack split the light to her right. Then a third, this one directly overhead.
“I can’t…” Pinaria’s voice broke behind her. “I can’t hold on!”
The tunnel fractured, light splintering in every direction like broken glass.
Katell’s heart plunged.
