The clawing in his chest twisted and writhed, morphing into something unrecognizable.
August couldn’t let him walk away. Not after what he’d done. He snatched Lottie’s dagger from the ground, Felix’s blood still slick on the blade, and forced himself up.
Felix raised the gun. When he spoke, his words were ice. “You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
August barely registered the shot over the roaring in his ears. He hardly felt the bullet at all, though the impact knocked him back a step.
For one suspended heartbeat, the world slammed to a stop, shock freezing him in place. Then everything erupted. Pain and grief and fury ripped through him in a single breath.
August came apart—a raw, jagged sob tearing from his chest as the fractured fabric of the veil shattered with him.
The world collapsed in on itself until nothing remained but the silver-stained gloom of the Hollow Dark.
It should have been difficult, pulling the trigger. Killing the officers, the nobleman—those had been easy, but Felix expected that. With August, he thought he’d falter. Hesitate. But he didn’t. Not the first time, when he wasn’t sure he’d hit him, and not now, when he was close enough to be certain he would.
He’d expected to feel something, expected it to hurt. His feelings for the aesling had been real. Even now, the betrayal throbbed in his chest, sharp enough to steal his breath.
But watching the bullet tear through August’s chest hadn’t hurt at all.
Marlow shouted as the world went dark, her words swallowed by the screams and chaos. People fled, and Felix blinked, registering the jagged cracks spider-webbed through the air. August had vanished, had disappeared into the Hollow Dark.
She grabbed Felix’s hand, and they turned and ran. Pain cut through his leg, and the open wound bled harder with every step, the sticky fabric clinging to his leg. A deafening crack—like wood splintering—shook the market square. He glanced over his shoulder as the world split open. The darkness spread,devouring everything in its path. People screamed as they disappeared.
He remembered the hard-glass feel of the rift from the inside. The way that place sucked the life out of him after only minutes. All those people, they were trapped inside. They were going to die in that terrible place.
Ma.
Felix stopped abruptly, heart bludgeoning against his ribcage. “I have to head home,” he said, already half-turning. The Raven’s Perch was only a few blocks west of the market square.
Marlow gripped his hand tighter. “We need to run.”
“I can’t just leave her!” he shouted, voice tight with panic. His ma was at home, probably still fast asleep, worn out from the all-nighter she’d pulled minding him while he recovered.
He wasn’t about to let her get caught in this.
“There’s no time.”
The darkness swelled, spreading outward like a ravenous tide.
Felix tried to argue, but all that came out was a strangled sob. She was right. He couldn’t make it before it reached his home.
Marlow tugged on his arm. “Come on!”
Felix’s face twisted, and he gave a quick nod.
He wasn’t dying today.
By the time they reached the south gate, the darkness had finally stopped, though it didn’t retreat. It stretched far beyond The Raven’s Perch and blotted out the sky.
His ma. His home. Everything was gone.
Felix doubled over, gasping for breath, hands trembling. His leg was rubbed raw, shocks of pain cutting through his entire body. The grief was a vise around his chest, tightening until it twisted into a white-hot rage. He clenched his hands into fists.
Keep control, he reminded himself as his magic raged inside him.
He straightened, taking in the few hundred survivors gathered outside the city walls. How many had made it through the other gates? How many from the night market had survived? How many wielders?
A group of City Watch stood among the crowd, and Felix imagined, just for a moment, using his magic, wiping them out. An indulgent daydream to quell the storm in his head.
