Loft, the high discipline word of power that meant to incapacitate.Loft dorh—to immobilize.Loft not—to sleep. The words his son had used on her. Words Olivin had used on her in the third trial, ones she fought.
She had only a second to react. The longest second of her life. The moment in which all Eira had to rely on was instinct and the knowledge she’d gained over the years from everything that she had never been supposed to learn. Her dagger vanished from her palm as Eira shifted her focus. There wasn’t time to attack him physically. She couldn’t overpower him. In a battle of physical or magical strength…she’d have to be more cunning to thwart him.
Eira thrust out her hand.
“N—”
She could feel the magic beginning to surge around him, just as it had Ferro that night.Connect with it, she willed herself. Connect with it just as she had with Cullen, Alyss, and Noellethroughout the games. As she had been practicing. As she’d done for Deneya just last night.
But this second part…this was what she hadn’t dared allow herself to practice. This was sorcery that she’d considered forbidden. Power that she’d not risked with any of her friends because it could change their life forever. But Ulvarth? Ulvarth she’d explore the most sinister parts of her nature for. She’d expose him to the most horrible magic she could imagine and feel no guilt.
She’d break him.
Eira’s magic flooded around him, tangling with his power. Ulvarth’s eyes widened slightly. He could feel it, but it was too late.
He continued trying to form the word. Time felt like it had slowed. “No—”
“No,” Eira whispered. “I don’t think I’ll let you.”
She closed her fist and screamed. Ulvarth screamed at the same time, clutching his chest as though the dagger she had thrown earlier finally hit its mark, striking him right through the heart. An audible ripping sound tore through her body, echoing in her ears. She gasped, feeling an unseen force pull from deep within her. Power spun like a top—like a spool—thread unfurling faster, and faster, and faster until the string came loose and there was nothing left.
They were sinking into the unseen abyss of Eira’s making. No, Ferro had made the abyss. Ulvarth had deepened it. And now she would condemn him to it.
Her knees met the ground. Her hands trembled as she braced herself. Eira pulled her head up, looking at him through her hair. Ulvarth was on the ground as well. Pillars were slowing their march toward the arena. Hesitating before rushing to surround the leader that they were nothing without.
Eira seized the opportunity the confusion created, pushed herself up, and ran into the sunlight.
There was some kind of announcement still being made but the words were hazy and distant. It was like she was somewhere far under water, light and sound filtering through as distorted and muffled. Eira pushed past other competitors—walls of flesh in her way. She had to get to Alyss, Cullen, and Noelle. She had to warn them. She had to tell them—
She plowed into something sturdy. One of those walls of flesh had caught her. Held her. Supported her. Eira looked up, blinking, the world slowing coming back into focus. Everything was deafening. Colors were too bright.
“Eira.” Cullen’s voice was level and solid. Her heart slowed as she breathed in time with him, his fingers wrapping around the backs of her elbows as he kept her upright. “What happened? Where were you?”
“He’s here.” Eira looked around, eyes landing on the portcullis. “Ulvarth is here. We have to go—we have to get away from the royals’ box. We have to get everyone out of here. We have to make them leave. Everyone leave!”
“What did you say?” Graff interjected.
Varren was paying attention now, too. “Get away, why?”
“What is it now?” Harkor grumbled.
“Eira, what’s happened?” Ducot asked.
“Where’s Olivin?” Menna demanded. “Last I saw he was with you.”
She ignored their questions. There wasn’t time to answer. “We all have to leave. Please. Get out of here.” Eira pushed Cullen away. She sprinted over to Graff, pushing him too. Then to Lavette. The woman caught her, staring with confused and pitying eyes. “Please, they all like you. People listen toyou. Make them leave.”
“Eira, I don’t understand,” Lavette said softly. Though it almost looked like she wanted to.
“We will commence the signing shortly!” Lumeria announced high above. Eira looked up to the queen of Meru, the sun shining on her silks from high above. Over Lumeria’s shoulder, Eira saw Vi speaking with Aldrik and Vhalla. They stood.
The Republic of Qwint’s box was filled with three individuals. An old man stood in Twilight’s box, Arwin next to him. The draconi’s box was still vacant. Perhaps Fritz or Deneya had made it to them? Should she shout up in case? No, there was no way they’d hear over the noise of the crowd.
Eira looked back to the portcullis. There were still shadows shifting in the gloom on the other side of the sunlight. They were pinned. But they could all take the Pillars if they had to, right?
A firm hand clamped over her shoulder. “Where are we going?” Noelle asked.
“Anywhere but here.” Eira looked into the stands. “The spectators also… My parents—” Her mind was moving too quickly. There was too much for her to worry about. All her thoughts were being swallowed by the hollow within her. Sucked into the same void that she had condemned Ulvarth’s magic to.
