“Oh, fuck.”
Amma thrashed into the chalices, and there was a clatter across the stone floors of drinkware and bodies toppling. She resumed her sprint through the study chambers and bowled through a set of priestesses blocking the archway to the corridor. The women shrieked even through their ridiculous grins, but Amma didn’t care. She cut immediately into the courtyard, Damien’s name bursting out of her throat as she dodged a birdbath and a fruiting berry bush, but then skidded to a stop when she saw him on his knees.
The blood mage was doubled over, a terrible, smoky blackness covering his form. Standing before him was the priestess, the woman who was meant to be his mother, and in her hands was that stupid, cursed pendant, the same black arcana surrounding it.
She propelled herself forward, every intention of tackling the woman, ripping the pendant from her grip, and freeing Damien of whatever this dark magic was, but then Amma was slammed into the courtyard’s grass.
She screamed Damien’s name into the dirt, lifting her head just enough to see that he was still stuck there on the ground. Only yards away, she reached out, clawing at the earth, and beneath, it something solidified in her hand.
Amma swept the staff backward. A pulse of arcana shot awayfrom her, knocking the acolytes off. She squeezed the branch of liathau to her chest as she rolled to her back, and she could hear the very grass growing all around as the earth trembled. Stone began to crack, and voices cried out as the branches of the nearest trees twisted and swung.
So, she would be razing the temple to the ground after all. They really should have been kind to him.
Gritting her teeth, Amma heaved herself upward. Diana had not moved from her place over a crippled Damien, but her arm was trembling as it held out the pendant, and tears streamed down her face. She was struggling to do this, whatever it was.
Amma sprinted, swinging her staff as she went and knocking an acolyte out of her path, the crack of the wood sending them into a tree that used branches to hold them back. She pounced, and even as Diana threw a free arm out to stop her, Amma tackled the woman to the ground. Magic swelled throughout the courtyard, and the temple walls shuddered.
Diana’s hand pressed to Amma’s throat, a blinding light emanating from it, but Amma could still see just enough that the pendant had been flung from the priestess’s hand into the grass. She kicked and tried to scramble after it, but the priestess’s grip tightened around her neck, both of them reaching for the stone. A vine slipped itself around the chain, dragging it closer to Amma, but then it was ripped right from the ground.
Gilead. Amma’s arcana went wild, so strong then that she thought she might make the earth itself open up and swallow them all. Gilead faltered where he stood, but then he cast, and the sound Damien made struck Amma so deeply that she pulled back her own magic for fear of hurting him herself.
Damien had collapsed, face pressed to the earth. She called his name, but he did not move, even when a man wrenched him up from the ground, not a priest but someone noble—Kaspar Solonedy. She tried to cry out, but magic pulsed straight intoher throat, paralyzing her, and then a frigid wave came crashing down onto her back. She sucked in a breath full of water, choking.
Amma spat, everything hazy. She had never felt so…good? Her limbs went wobbly, and she wondered what all the fuss was around her. People were yelling, but why? She rolled to her back, the earth beneath her muddy and wet, the sky above a pall of bright blue. A bird flitted through her vision. Nice. Things were…they were nice.
Then arms hauled her to her feet, and between strands of drenched hair, she saw him being dragged away by Kaspar and another nobleman. “Damien!” she called, voice hoarse. “Fight back!” But he was motionless.
Amma tore herself away from those that held her, staff still in hand as she slammed it into the ground, sending acolytes to their knees. She ran after him, but there was another priest and priestess and so much magic that the world shook. Diana caught her, and divine magic pulsed through Amma’s staff.
The wood splintered right out of her grip, strands of silvery noxscura disintegrating into the air. “We will cleanse the evil from you,” a voice called, and hands had her caught, forced to the ground, and there was water, so much water, being poured down her throat that she could only swallow and choke and silently scream until the blue sky faded into black.
Gone.
She raised a hand to her face and wiped at her eyes. She’d been crying, she could feel the rawness in her throat and the puffiness of her face as she swept up her forehead and…why was her hair wet?
“You’re awake,” said a voice, sweet and calming. “You must be thirsty.”
Amma sat up, expecting her muscles to ache, but there was only a slight twinge. She wasn’t even exhausted from the…wait,why would she be exhausted? Or even achy? Probably because she was sad.
Sosad.
She accepted the copper cup from the woman who sat on the side of her bed and brought it to her lips. Cool and tasteless yet the most delicious thing she had ever had on her tongue, she swallowed.
The priestess’s too-agreeable smile spread wide over her face. “It’s good, isn’t it?”
Amma nodded, tipping the cup further until it was empty then taking a gulp of air. Maybe she wasn’tthatsad.
“I have more.” She reached for a jug on the closest table.
Amma let her fill the cup, but as she swallowed, her stomach flipped over. When had she last eaten? She blinked over at the only window in the little chamber, set high up near the ceiling, late afternoon sunlight streaming in. Last she remembered it was morning and she was coming…coming. She giggled. Wait, she was…coming to this place?
“Where—”
“Safe!” The woman refilled the small amount she had drained.
Amma placed the cup down, a bit sloshing over the edge and onto her thumb. She brought her hand to her mouth to lick it off then stopped—what was she wearing? Atop her normal clothing was another layer, white and embellished along the sleeves and hem with tiny, blue, embroidered birds. Priestess robes? That seemed like it might not be so good.
“I think I need to—”
