"Rissa," I said carefully, "are you absolutely sure about this? Is there any chance you could be mistaken?"
Rissa's gaze snapped to me, her green eyes blazing. "You doubt me? After everything we've been through, everything I've shown you?"
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "No, I don't doubt you. But Jeanette... she's my sister. I need to be sure."
Rissa's expression softened slightly, a flicker of understanding passing over her face. "I know it's hard to accept. But I'm not wrong about this. Jeanette has a formless one inside her, and we need to deal with it accordingly."
I looked at Jeanette again, my heart aching at the thought of what we might have to do. She met my gaze, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Luce, please," she whispered. "You know me. You know I could never be one of them."
Rissa made a sudden grabbing motion with her hand, as if snatching an invisible shirt collar. Jeanette's arms and head jerked back violently, her chest yanked forward toward Rissa like a puppet on strings.
Cathy grabbed Rey’s arm as he took a step forward.
Jeanette stumbled toward Rissa across the gleaming teak deck, her feet dragging and catching on the polished wood. She had no control over her own movements. I watched in horrified fascination as Jeanette's toes scrabbled uselessly, unable to find purchase.
I started forward instinctively, unsure what I would do, but Rissa's other hand shot up in a commanding "stop" gesture. Jeanette froze mid-stumble, suspended in an unnatural position like a puppet whose strings were slack.
Jeanette's body convulsed grotesquely, limbs twitching and shuddering as if seized by an invisible force.
Rey breathed, "Rissa, don't go too hard now." His hazel eyes were grim.
Beside him, Cathy wrung her hands, her face a mask of conflicting emotions, revulsion warring with a fierce acceptance. She remained silent, unwilling or unable to intervene.
I felt like I was being torn in two, caught between the woman I had grown to care for and the sister I had sworn to protect. The very air pulsed with the force of Rissa's power, the deck beneath my feet vibrating with each twitch rippling through Jeanette's body.
Rissa's hand clenched into a tighter fist, and Jeanette's form went rigid, suspended in mid-air like a grotesque puppet.
My mind raced, desperate for a solution, a way to reach the woman beneath the terrifying display of might. I took a step forward, my hand outstretched, words forming on my lips?—
But before I could utter a sound, Rissa's fingers twitched, and she made a pinching motion. Jeanette collapsed on the deck while Rissa relaxed. “It’s dead. Jeanette will be fine after a bit of rest. She may need a therapist.”
"All you had to do was pinch it?" I rasped, my gaze darting between Rissa's glowing eyes and the crumpled form of my sister on the deck.
Rissa shrugged. "I told you I had a lot of power. I just had to force it outside her body to keep from injuring her."
I shook my head. If she’d saved Jeanette from that awful fate… "I don't... I can't..."
"Hold my beer," Rissa said with a wry grin, her hands glowing with an even more intense otherworldly light. “I’ve got work to do.”
Before I could even process her words, a shockwave of pure energy exploded outwards from her, slamming into me like a physical blow. I was thrown off my feet, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the power she had unleashed.
I hit the deck hard, the breath knocked from my lungs. Around me, the others groaned, their bodies thumping against the polished wood. But I couldn't focus on them, couldn't tear my gaze away from the sight of Rissa, her form wreathed in a blinding aura of light.
She was floating now, her feet hovering inches above the deck. Her eyes were closed, her face a mask of concentration. The air around her crackled with energy, the very fabric of reality seeming to warp and twist in her presence.
I struggled to my feet, my legs shaking beneath me. Before I could take a single step, a sound like the rending of metal tore through the air.
I whipped around, my heart pounding in my chest. And there, floating in a semicircle around the boat, were seven figures I had hoped never to see again.
The Council of Daemons.
They looked different than I remembered, their forms more ethereal, less substantial. But there was no mistaking the rage radiating from them, the palpable sense of danger that set my nerves on edge.
I could see the anger in their eyes, the barely restrained fury that threatened to boil over at any moment. But there was something else there too, an emotion I had never seen on their faces before.
Terror.
