For years, her control was the only thing that had kept Aya from splintering. But bit by bit, that control was slipping. She could feel it in the way that power thrashed inside of her.
Perhaps she’d never truly had it. If she had, she wouldn’t have sent Will falling to his near death. Her best friend wouldn’t have looked at her like she was a monster. And her mother …
You know that I neverwantto leave you.
Aya drew into her power, calling that raging well forward.
She’d thrown that gust of wind last night without a second thought.
It terrified her.
Natali was saying something. But Aya couldn’t hear them with the ringing in her ears, couldn’t see with the darkness that crept into her vision. Cold surged through her, as if her very blood had turned to ice. There was nothing in her mind but her own vicious tone.
That’s what you always say. But you always leave. You’re a liar.
Hands were on her shoulders, shaking her hard enough that her teeth clattered.
Aya.
Aya.
‘Aya!’ Natali’s voice pulled her to the surface. Aya was on the ground, her lungs searing as her vision focused. Natali knelt over her, their amber eyes wide. Her head swam as she sat up. ‘I was afraid of this,’ the Saj murmured.
‘What happened?’ Her lungs were burning, but her voice was steady and cold.
‘You stole the air. I shielded but … you could suffocate an entire room should you wish to.’
Aya gritted her teeth as her stomach turned. She was a warrior. A weapon, when needed. She was willing to do what it took to adhere to the oath she’d taken to her kingdom and the Divine. But this …
Could she bear this level of destruction?
How couldthisbe a gift from the gods?
Aya’s vision swam as she pushed to her feet. ‘Why do I feel like this?’ she rasped, the stone wall she leaned against the only thing keeping her from sinking to the floor again.
‘Raw power can takemorefrom you.’
Visya affinity wasn’t limitless, and it wasn’t equal. Some were born with deeper wells than others, and every young Visya had to learn how to manage their affinity; how to find their limits, build their reservoirs, and feed their power with their energy. Like all things in nature, there was a balance.
A Visya who refused to touch their affinity would become ill. Without an outlet, the power could consume its host. But a Visya who didn’t master their affinity correctly – who didn’t know how to use their power steadily, who emptied their well too fast, or became too entranced by their power, or didn’t take time to recover – the effects could kill them.
‘So I’m, what, burning out faster? I thought this power was supposed to be nearly limitless?’
Natali shook their head. They pulled a small book from their pocket, opening to a page they’d bookmarked. Aya gagged at the grotesque drawing of a man whose eyes had sunken into his head, his skin in patches of decay. He seemed to be screaming in agony.
‘When the Decachiré practitioners pushed against the bounds of their wells, their raw power began to devour. It fed on their wells, deepening their power beyond what the gods allowed.’
But if these pictures were true, then the power didn’t just feed on their wells …
‘It fed onthem,’ Aya breathed, her eyes scanning the images on the page.
Natali made a contemplative sound. ‘Some say it ate away at their veryessence; that they were inherently dark, and the practice pushed them further into that darkness, which further fueled their corruption. It’s the inverse of Visya who use their well correctly. Inner and outer. It’s all a science. A balance.’
Aya’s stomach clenched, her fingers digging into her palms as the Saj met her gaze.
‘Is that what you sensed in me? Darkness?’
Natali cocked their head, their amber eyes pensive as they considered her. ‘The Saj of the Maraciana can identify affinities. We can sense the depth of a well. Of course, we’ve never sensed raw power before; you’re the first to show such power in centuries.’
