A spike of resentment shot through her. Resentment at her own futility, her weakness, her stupid worthless magic—
Subtle awareness cleared a path through her anger, something soft and yielding. She continued to rage against it, but it was stronger than her resistance.
It was her magic.
She suddenly knew what this was. Another challenge.
Hot angry tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn’t have time for a challenge. She didn’t have time to slow down and turn inward. Not when Morkai was transforming both sources of blood into threads—threads that were now beginning to twine together.
Again, that soft, quiet urging cut through her resistance.
She hated it. Oh, how she hated it.
But she gave in. Gave in to the hate, the anguish, the panic. Let herself feel it, let it twist her heart and weaken her body. Let herself slump beneath the horse and close her eyes. Her weakness turned to calm, and calm turned to strength. Magic flooded her chest and trailed down her arms, humming through the ink that marked her skin.
She breathed.
In. Out. In. Out.
And felt.
Pain. Grief. Urgency. Fortitude.
Then something softer.
Protection. Devotion. Friendship. Love.
Open your eyes.
She followed the internal urging, saw Morkai’s blood weaving growing tighter, the strands of blood nearly fully merged. Teryn was now on his knees, still clutching his breastplate.
Allowing her quiet magic to still her mind, she followed its pull, its guidance. Followed it as it narrowed in on the space behind Morkai. She felt an overwhelmingneedto be there, to free Teryn. It was so strong she could feel it down to her bones. It tugged her palms, her body, her soul, tugged every part of her until she felt as if it would carry her there on an invisible wind.
Teryn’s face warped with pain as the mage threaded another strand through his tapestry.
Her heart swelled with determination. Resolve. Conviction.
With a slow exhale, she focused on her legs, on the foot that wasn’t radiating with piercing agony. She moved it against the dirt, the horse, and pictured it pressing against the very place she needed to be. Not against soil, not buried beneath a dead animal, but upon the rock—
She hobbled on one leg, suddenly upright.
Blinking at the startling shift in light, she realized she now stood directly behind Morkai on Centerpointe Rock.
His back was facing her as he continued to weave his crimson tapestry. He hadn’t a clue she was there. It shouldn’t be possible that she was. She couldn’t have been able to move from under the horse to the rock in the blink of an eye.
But it had happened. And this was no time to second-guess what could be her last shot.
A ripple of pain shot through her injured leg as she shifted her stance. She reached for one of her daggers, stepped forward, and plunged it into Morkai’s back. She twisted it as far as she could before he whirled to face her.
His eyes went wide as they met hers. His blood weaving fell to the surface of the rock. It didn’t disappear like it had before he’d killed the prisoner or after he’d woven her blood with Linette’s. It simply spilled as ordinary blood should. His magic ruined. His tapestry incomplete.
Cora held his gaze and unsheathed her next dagger. With a thrust, she drove it into Morkai’s abdomen. She grabbed her final knife, thrust toward him, but he knocked her hand away. Unfazed, she swiped and slashed and stabbed. He backed up a few steps and held out his hand. She expected him to reveal her tiny ball of blood again. Expected to feel the searing pain strike her chest at any moment.
It didn’t.
She plunged her final knife into Morkai’s side and grabbed an arrow from her quiver—
Teryn gasped.
