“I know what to do!” I shout to Kato. Hopefully Griffin hears, too.
Counting on Griffin to keep Flynn busy on one side and Kato to guard me everywhere else, I inhale slowly to center myself and then pull magic from deep within, feeling the boost Titos’s tattoo shot through me still sparking in my blood. I concentrate with every ounce of energy inside me and focus all my thoughts on one specific desire—Iwillgather the bright sparks of human minds all around me. I will take them from Mother, even if that means making them mine.
I shut my eyes and see them even better, brighter. They’re beautiful, like stars in the night. Some flicker out, their light erased from existence even as I watch. Others, I still might save, but this day will torment them forever. This is the total loss of self a person never forgets or truly overcomes. This is where black marks on hearts come from, and where nightmares are born.
A big part of me rebels at the idea of latching on to human minds. A person’s head is a sacred place, one of truth. It’s our most private inner sanctum, where we’re all alone with our good and bad thoughts, know our own deeds and desires, and our choices should only ever be our own. All my life, the invasion of the mind has been my point of demarcation, the one line I swore I’d never cross. I’m about to do it anyway. Is it an act of mercy? Survival? Maybe it’s both. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve made my choice.
Shoving long-standing fears aside, I pull on the minds around me. Lights gravitate toward me, but they don’t come fast enough, or even all the way. Mother’s hold is solid, and the brutal tug-of-war I initiate between us starts to feel like it could tear me apart.
She holds on to what she’s claimed with iron strength. I double my efforts, quaking from the sheer amount of magic required to try to steal away her prize. The lights begin to whirl, and my head spins along with them. The sounds of fighting fade until all I hear is the fast thumping of my own pulse.
I pull harder, my head starting to grind with pain. The pinpricks of light turn searing. I coax more magic up from the swirling well of power inside me, but my concentrated, powerful effort at compulsion doesn’t work. I don’t capture a single spark.
Kato hisses. The sound breaks my concentration, and I open my eyes, searching for him. My vision swims as my magic pulls my brain tight like a bowstring and then snaps back down into me with the painful backlash of unused power. I gasp, lurching. When I regain my balance, I see Griffin and Flynn still grappling and growling at each other. Closer to me, Kato is injured now. A deep slice in his shoulder paints his arm red.
Gods damn it!I haven’t changed a thing.
A woman lies either unconscious or dead at his feet, joining our other attackers. The circle has grown since I closed my eyes and tried to wrest control of everyone from Mother. Kato switches his mace to his left hand, raises it, but then shifts his balance and uses his injured arm to land a knockout punch on the man charging us from the side. I recognize the assailant before he hits the ground, incapacitated. He’s one of our Sintans. One of Griffin’s from the start.
Nausea plagues me, and not only from my headache. We’re fighting the people who flocked to us from the four corners of Thalyria. We’re fighting Fisan soldiers, too. For efficiency’s sake, it was everyone, or no one, so Mother simply took them all.
Magic bites the air near the ruined gateway, different from Mother’s. Metal whistles. People scream. There are mostly Fisans over there, but Mother doesn’t care. The point of this massacre isn’t for her soldiers to best ours. The point is to leave no one standing—because that’s how she gets tome.
I focus on my compulsion again, sliding my consciousness into a different place, one of magic and instinct. I reach for the sparks, trying to corral the jumble of minds, but they resist me. Mother’s hold on them is rock-solid, absolute, and the longer she has them, the firmer her grasp seems to get.
“Cat!”
Kato’s warning shout severs the bridge of magic I was building again and sends me crashing back into the battle. I whip a kick at the Fisan who got past Kato. He staggers but stays upright so I spin again, this time crouching down low. He falls when I sweep his feet out from under him. A quick lunge puts my hand at his throat, and I squeeze until his eyes roll back in his head and he goes limp, asleep for now.
“Cat…”
I whirl at Griffin’s strangled call. He sounds desperate, his voice thin and hoarse. It does something to me on a visceral level, and every part of me sharpens like a blade, ready to fight.
Griffin and Flynn are facing off on their knees, their hands their only weapons now—and those are wrapped tightly around each other’s necks. Both their faces are purple, airless, with veins popping out at their temples and their lips drawn back.
I spring up and race toward them, suddenly understanding what I’m doing wrong. I’m trying to do too much at once. I need to prioritize, and getting Flynn back is my absolute priority right now. One mind at a time is the answer, not everyone all at once.
I leap on Flynn, grab his bloody, bruised head in my hands, and concentrate all my magic into one pure blast. He’s mine! And I amnotgiving him up!
He yells like he’s being ripped apart. I scream. Mother screams.Ha! Take that!
Flynn releases Griffin and crashes to the side, taking me down with him. I scramble to my knees and pivot so I’m leaning over him, my hands now gripping his shoulders and my eyes frantically searching for signs of the Flynn I know and love. He stares at the sky, his brown eyes wide open but blank and unseeing.
Fear punches a hole through my ribs. He’s not breathing.What have I done?
Flynn’s broad chest rises on a loud gasp.Thank the Gods!I nearly sob out loud.
Alarm flashes across his face, and then absolute horror floods his expression. I feel his emotions even more strongly inside me. The confusion. The guilt. The panic and pain. I hold him tight in the cradle of my mind, careful not to give him any invasive direction, and then search out Carver in this unutterable mess. Like a snake weaving through long grass, my magic skirts everyone in between and then strikes at him with focused purpose, claiming him fast. Carver staggers, and I jump straight to Bellanca, not giving myself a second to rest because I know she’ll kill him in the fleeting moment he’s too shocked and confused to fight back.
“You’re free,” I whisper through magic, and space, and minds.
I feel every awful part of Carver’s and Bellanca’s distress and confusion as they go from fighting each other to defending one another, experiencing along with them their gut-wrenching regret. It’s the lostness that batters me the hardest, the desperate internal screams ofHow could I?andWhat happened?andI don’t understand!
Flynn’s anguish is the worst. His guilt crushes me, his mind sinking into darkness and doubt. He looks at Griffin, at me, and I know he’d exchange his own life as penance for what he’s unwittingly done.
Griffin wipes blood from his eyes and then holds out his hand to his friend.
Flynn swallows hard. His head jerks awkwardly from side to side as he watches the people around us turn on whatever neighbor is still standing and viciously attack. It’s sickening, and in truth, he’s seeing it for the first time.
