“No. Only our creator may do that. And only through releasing the curse?—”
“Or her death.” The woman with the slashes across her mouth smiled savagely.
I shuddered involuntarily.
“She can’t die. Not truly. Not while this still exists,” I said, attempting to hold the crystal up for their inspection, but my arm drooped with exhaustion.
The two female ghosts shared an indecipherable look before fixing me once more with their blank stares. I shivered again from the combination of the intensity of their gazes and the massive blood loss.
“Destroy it,” the older one said like it were the simplest thing in the world.
It would be easy. I have the power of a god at my fingertips . . .
The call to my Destruction Magic was headier than ever; a constant beat in my blood and mind begging me to release it, togive in toit. Constantly denying its advances was pushing at the boundaries of my control. Sooner or later, I would have to give in to the all-consuming need, the fire burning within my veins.
I had little doubt that releasing that magnitude of power would incapacitate me for some time afterward. I’d only just managed to pull myself upright and out of the catacombs beneath the Valley after killing Kaos; it was a godsdamned miracle I’d survived this long in a battle with a psychotic goddess.
“I can’t,” I sighed with a shake of my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to”—I had to practically shout over the hisses that emanated from the chaotically swirling mists—“believe me, no one wants that bitch banished more than me, but Ican’t. If I tap into that power . . . it will consume me.”
The older woman fixed me with an unblinking stare.
“If you don’t, then Solace consumes us all,” she said gravely.
My heart thumped at the enormity of her admittance, at the reality of the situation.
Either I die, or everyone else dies.
“Okay,” I said, my words instantly silencing the steadily escalating buzzing noise that lived within the mists. “Okay,” I repeated softer.
The old woman smiled at me.
“Release your hold on us. We will linger for moments before we are forced to return to our in-between state. Use that time wisely, Goddess.”
I narrowed my eyes on the ghostly woman before closing them completely, following her urgent instructions. With a deep breath, I centered myself, pushing the edges of my understanding tofeelfor my magic pulsating within the soil.
It was easier than I expected; even through the exhaustion and muddled consciousness, searching for the remnants of my magic was like finding small pieces of my soul embedded within the very fabric of Elyria.
Little sparkling flecks attracted my attention, and I was amazed to find how vastly they stretched; how quickly my magic moved within the soil to innervate the souls of the deceased Keepers. I could even feel pieces of my power in the mists that formed the ghosts and gently caressed my exposed skin.
I—or my magic—waseverywhere. A sense of awe settled deep within my soul, bolstering my resolve and awakening an awareness and appreciation for the innate magics of Elyria that weren’t there before.
What else could I do?
The answer to that question hummed just out of reach. I vaguely felt my hands lifting of their own accord, as if to touch my magic. With gentle pulls, I guided the remnants back into my soul, gasping aloud each time a glimmer sparked and sped toward my waiting body, slotting itself perfectly back into my well of power.
Is this what it feels like when Vessels recharge their wells? Or is this unique to godlings?
It was definitely something I would have to describe to Faylinn, assuming I made it out of the Valley in one piece and Rohak found her in time.
“Faster, Goddess. You must pull it all at once, orshewill be able to find you before you are ready,” the old woman whispered a gentle yet urgent caress into my very mind.
The raw fear in her voice spurned me into action and steeled my resolve. Squeezing my eyes shut so tight my nose scrunched, I hastily felt for the last remaining embers of my magic resting in the veins I’d pushed deep within the soil.
Their vastness shocked me.
There werethousandsof small filaments left to extract. The process surely would wind me, leaving me open and vulnerable.
“Leave us for last. Pull from the soil only, we’ll fade in time,” the woman with the slashes in her face said, her voice confident and ringing with unpaid retribution.
