“I don’t know how to slow it down,” I yelled, taking my hand off the circle, but just like the forge, my magic didn’t stop.
New Dude dove forward, pressing my hands back to the circle. “Never let go of the circle. Fuck me, who—”
A gauge on my left suddenly spun right and turned red while two buttons flashed under it. The wind tore at my hair, even moving my heavy overalls.
“Slow us down!” New Dude screamed.
He dropped to his knees, trying to do something to the area I was supposed to be venting. I closed my eyes and tried my visualizationtactics, which usually worked eventually in the Alun. But I wasn’t in the Alun; I was on a train that was hurtling underground.
My chest constricted, and my vision blurred. I glanced down at New Dude. Ezra’s voice echoed, ‘control.’ If I teleported, I’d leave him behind, on a speeding train, possibly to die.
It didn’t matter that I didn’t like him. I couldn’t live with myself.
For the first time in my life, I stopped an involuntary teleport. Control burned worse than chaos, but it was mine. Something buzzed on the console, and I looked just as a hazy bend in the tracks came into view. The light didn’t penetrate beyond the beginning of the curve. There was no way we could make that turn at this speed.
We hit the curve. The front of the train jumped the track, slammed into the magically smoothed floor, and crashed into the tunnel wall with a metallic scream. Metal folded, air shattered, and gravity forgot which way was down. The train shuddered to a stop, but nothing inside did. Momentum hurled everything forward. Crates, gears, bodies. I had no time to react. I flew into the wreckage. Something sharp ripped into my hip, and a burst of blinding magic lit up the tunnel. Then—silence. My magic fizzled out mid-breath, and the dark took me whole.
Chapter 30
Cayden
Theruneonmywrist flared to life with my Prophet’s call. The white circles darkened from pale brown to charred black, burning the edges of my wrist with the stench of seared flesh.
Unlike the Architect’s TBs, my family’s runes didn’t pass on full messages. They only gave a vague sense of time and location. It was an honor, part of becoming a man in the family, to receive the rune from the Prophet himself. But after everything I’d learned, my rune felt like the brand it was, tying me to a world I didn’t want to be part of.
I used to think there was only one true way to live. I was wrong. So wrong. No higher power cursed me. It was my Prophet, the man who fathered me using his own daughter.
The ground shook, and pain stabbed my hip, ripping me from the spiral in my head. I reached down, pushing at the point of pain, but whatever I’d initially felt was already gone.
Someone screamed, and cries filled the front of the library. I jumped up and sprinted toward the sound.
My brothers. Shit. What had I done?
Smoke drifted out of an open door. A librarian held his hand on his face, just looking blankly through a door with smoke curling out of it.
“What’s happened?” I demanded.
“We don’t know. The train…”
Quinn. My worry about my brothers died. “How do I get to the train?”
“Through that door.” The man pointed at the smoking exit. I activated the runes covering my legs. “Third door, and down a ladder in the center. Then, second door on your right.”
My last rune fell into place. “And what direction does the train travel?”
The man spun. “Um.” He turned again, two of his fingers moving into his mouth. He finally pointed. “That way, I think. Maybe turn right? I mean, that’s the direction our eyes go when we read, right?”
I clenched my fist, nodded, and sprinted, my form blurring with my enhanced speed. His directions were right, but I’d wasted time waiting for him to guess. Prismatic, pink, and orange haze billowed from the right. My legs burned as I charged through thickening clouds of wild magic. I had to stop and draw runes across my face to filter out the toxic, power-laden air—so much power.
Bits of debris appeared first. A cog jutted out of the magically smooth stone walls. Although the cauldrons were still in place, no light came out of them, and the world got darker with every step. I created two balls of forest-green mage light that bathed the cave in even more shadow. The static of loose power and the groaning of metal slowly cooling and losing its shape echoed off the tunnel walls.
A sheet of steel, along with a book, led to a larger pile of debris, which led to something long and tall. I slowed to climb over the unidentifiable piece of wreckage.
Someone coughed ahead and to my left. I sped up and found the body of a man I didn’t recognize lying on the stone floor as if thrown from the train. Blood crusted his lips and bubbled as he breathed. The leg and arm on his right side were lumps of swollen skin.
“Where’s Quinn?” I demanded, kneeling at his side.
The man tried to talk but wheezed. If I left him, he would die. I tried to stand, but visions of my brothers disregarding the pain of others assaulted me. It didn’t matter how simple or earth-shattering a problem was; I only helped at my Prophet’s command.
