She looks just the same, with her silver hair and copper skin, and gets up from the throne and smiles. “Your friend, Marlak. Haven’t I always been that?”
My heart beats loudly and my head buzzes. I should use my fire—and do it fast, but something’s wrong. Is she his hostage? His ally?
“Where’s the Witch King?”
She approaches me. “You can choose to die or you can choose to join us. There’s still time.”
“Leave,” I say. “I have no wish to hurt you.”
“Oh, you’re so boring.” She pouts then disappears. I feel a hand around my throat, and her voice whispering in my ear. “Pain can be fun.”
I make up my mind in a fraction of a second. If I don’t see the Witch King, there’s only one explanation: he’s her.
I came to do one thing, and I can’t falter now. My mind brings me back to that moment in the island, holding Astra’s hand, feeling her flame, seeing her smile.I trust you, she said.
Now it’s time to trust myself.
The fire magic is not really buried, but dormant. It’s still part of me—and yet it won’t come. I conjure a blast of air and push false Crisine and the ghouls away. Then I think about Astra and her flame. That beautiful, lovely flame. It was love, hope, joy. That flame is the only thing that can free us.
My fire emerges in a huge blast. All around me, ghouls burn as if they were made of paper. There’s a sound too. A scream. A horrific scream.
A woman screaming. And the smell of hair burning.
I’m in the study again, trying uselessly to call back my fire, to quench it, and yet seeing it getting bigger and bigger. I’m trying to call it back, I’m trying. Begging for the magic to go away, pleading for the fire to disappear. Trying to call my water, but it’s so weak. And they scream. My mother. My sister. The screams are louder than any sound, the fire surrounding me too hot, eating my flesh, my hair, my skin, burning away parts of me. I’m not myself anymore, there’s only pain and regret and horror.
So much horror. Darkness. Death. Power. Something’s touching my head. A hand.
I’m not in the study room anymore, I’m not. But it’s still burning inside me.
Marlak, wake up. Wake up.
Astra.She’s alive. Unharmed.I openmy eyes. There’s no Astra, just horror.
I want to vomit, but then move my eyes away from Crisine’s body. Part of her skin is burned, and that’s it. She shouldn’t be dead, I think. I don’t know what happened, but I feel heavy,strange, weak. Something’s touching my head. Something heavy, odd. Something… pulling my magic. I’m kneeling on the ground, exhaustion taking over me.
I look up and see an old man with purplish black hair. The Witch King. And I just killed Crisine. I conjure my magic to burn him, but it doesn’t come.
The Witch King laughs. “See? It didn’t hurt to join me. And what mighty magic you have.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing. She came of her own will. Wanted to be myqueen.” He laughs. “What a pity you killed her.”
The Witch King sounds quite awake for someone who was beheaded two days ago. I try to conjure some air magic, but it doesn’t come. I need to think fast, and I try to talk to gain time.
“What do you want from me?” I ask.
“Just your magic. Nothing less, nothing more. Your vital force, maybe. You did kill my main power source, king, so I’m afraid you’ll have to replace her.”
More ghouls surround us, and I realize this sanctuary has doors leading to other chambers. It’s still day, so if I fight my way out, I’ll be safe outside, under the sunlight. But with each second, I get weaker and weaker.
I lower my head, escaping the Witch King’s grip, then push his legs to drop him to the ground. When I’m getting up to stab him, my breath stops. Someone’s controlling my air. The Witch King smirks as I feel dizzy, sleepy, then I feel nothing.
ASTRA
Anxiety is going to either consume me or pull me into a dark hole. Marlak should be facing the Witch King at any moment. Will he prevail? Will he be able to use his fire?
And then there’s Tarlia. No sign of Renel and Ziven, no note from them either, even though Lidiane keeps checking.
