I hold out my hand to the side in case my recreated artificer sigil will cause me to unleash a burst of flame or ice. This is exactly why the Creed doesn’t want regular people trying out sigils. One wrong line and it can either not work at all, or Etherlight can explode with horrifying consequences.
But I’m surprisingly confident in my abilities for having never done this before, thanks to all the hours I spent with Dad. For the first time, it feels like something is going to simplyworkfor me, and the sensation is intoxicating.
I suck in Etherlight with a breath—the way I did for years, trying with the vicar—and this time, it feels as though all this power has somewhere togo. The skin on my fist puckers, spreading down my arm and even tingling across my chest. A thin sheen across my arm is illuminated in the fading light of our fires.
The copper dragon turned my way while I was drawing forth Etherlight. I almost miss the surge of power. Lucan lets out a shout, but he’s too far.
Using all the information I’ve learned about drawing Etherlight through sigils from my father and my training with the vicar, I raise my fist and position my body behind it. Etherlight is warm, like the sun rising after a long night. More flows through me than I’ve ever felt before—so much more than opening a lock or lighting Saipha’s little lantern.
As a ball of flame is hurled toward me, I really hope this sigil does what I think it does. This is going to be either a really stupid end to my life…or the most brilliant thing I’ve ever done.
The ball of fire splits in two on my knuckles, shearing away into ribbons of flame. Tiny embers glow around my fist beforefading to black. The thin sheen across my flesh vanishes as the Etherlight dissipates.
To think,thisis what the vicar wants me to do, but without a sigil. What Valor could do. It’s impossible to imagine just how powerful I’d be if I could.
A shocked laugh escapes me.It worked. That worked. I guessed they’d put an armor sigil with the silver dragon—the most armored of them all—and I was right.
The copper dragon clicks; it’s readying another blast. I sprint forward and, with my free hand, grab Lucan, who lets out a yelp of surprise. We head in the direction of the door closest to the greenhouse.
This is going to hurt. Releasing Lucan, I call on Etherlight again but this time shift the flow of magic to my leg. I suck in a breath and take a step back as the copper dragon begins to gather its own Etherlight. Then I lift my leg and kick straight out with all my might, right at the doorknob. Even with a leg like steel, the rest of my body is not. My joints scream. My back continues to ooze blood to the point that I’m dizzy. The door budges but doesn’t break.
“Isola—”
Ignoring whatever Lucan is about to say, I bounce back and kick again. Then a third time. On the fourth, the doorframe shatters and I’m left panting, sagging.
Lucan catches me before I fall over and drags me to the other side of the door as a burst of flame explodes where our heads just were. Again. And I don’t know how many more near misses I can take.
He curses under his breath, a sentiment I share. My whole body is wrecked. Sweat and blood soak my clothes to dripping. Trembles are beginning to chase an unnatural cold sweeping through me as the Etherlight vanishes with my focus.
“Come on.” Lucan keeps his hold on me, beginning to pull meup the stairs.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Greenhouse,” he says with a grunt, as though having read my mind. I’m basically dead weight as I stumble down the hallway at his side. I’d probably fall over if it weren’t for him.
“Why are you taking me there?” I glance in his direction. There’s enough moonlight through the windows here for me to see him better.
“You can hardly walk.”
“I’m fine.”
Without warning, he lets me go, and I instantly sway. I’d drop to the floor if the opposite wall wasn’t so close. I barely get a hand up to support myself in time.
Our eyes lock. Lucan folds his arms. “Absolutely fine. The literal picture of ‘fine.’”
I scowl at his sarcasm. “You don’t have to help me. We’re even.”
“Even? What’re you talking about?”
“You helped me in there. I saved you in return. We can go our separate ways now.”
“We’re stuck here for the next three weeks. There are no ‘separate ways.’” He sounds about as pleased as I am. “I was wondering why you helped me get out, though, when you could’ve left me. You can tell me on the way.” Lucan wraps his arm around my waist, careful to avoid my wound, grabbing my arm with his opposite hand for additional support.
I knew the man was muscular. His shirts do little to hide it. But feeling him at my side… He’s raw strength, and a part of me I’ve never known before wants to melt into him. To surrender to the safety he offers, even if I know it has ulterior motives.
“I don’t like being indebted to anyone.” My circumstances with the vicar have made that clear enough to me. He holds my life over my head, and I can’t do anything about it. I hate that feelingof owing and never knowing when it’ll come due. Of lacking that control. “So don’t help me anymore.”
“Your stubbornness is going to get you killed.”
