I screamed, my voice cracking with adrenaline.
His weight was forcing me back and down, arching me at an awkward angle until I shoved him, hard. My breaths were ripping through my lungs as I fought to regain my equilibrium.
“How did you…” he muttered, glaring at me as he recovered from the blow.
I slipped into the familiar stance I used to spar, stretched my left arm forward, palm out, and my sword ready to pierce in my right.
My stance was firm. My pulse beat with purpose. I wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.
I glared and said, “Power isn’t found in stolen everi, it comes from within.”
He lifted his sword, his eyes flashing malevolently. He charged at me, his fury charging his blade with crackling sparks of red electricity, but he never made it to where I stood.
Caelan appeared before me like a ghost, his blade drawing blood before I realized he was there. It cut deep into Everson’s torso.
I flinched as his eyes flew open, stunned by the unexpected shock of the blade that was now buried in his chest.
I stood there, unmoving, as Caelan pulled his blade out and glared down at him.
“You,” Everson whispered.
Everson fell to his knees, dark red blood pooling on the floor. His eyes tightened and his hand reached forward, blood trickling from his lips. He tried to speak but choked, unable to get the words out before he collapsed.
“Anna!”
I saw Isabella running to me, her dress in tatters and filthy.
“You look awful,” I whispered, choking back my tears.
A horrible cry drew our attention as Blake stabbed a blood mage trying to stand. He yanked the blade out of his chest, the body now still. He looked up at me, his face flecked with red.
“We need to get to the rift,” Blake said, looking at Caelan, “before any more show up.”
Blake was about to come over to us when a dagger glowing with red everi seared past his head. He dropped to the ground, dodging it as several more blood mages entered. They were in sparring gear, and I recognized one of them—he was one of the Adepts’ Raicanya instructors. I’d seen him with Malakai in the Catacombs—Draknir.
Blake seethed. “If you do not stand down, I will spare none of you.”
Draknir raised his right hand beside his head, two fingers in the air before he brought them down. They moved in a flash, so much so that I took a step back.
The sound of their blades crossing rang, sending alarm coursing through me as I tightened my stance. The other blood mages were moving toward us, far more cautious and steadier than the others.
“Caelan!” Blake shouted. “Get them out of here!”
“I’ll stay and help Blake,” Isabella said. “I’ve been wanting to try out a new move anyway.”
My heart was slamming into my chest as I watched her.
“Bella, there’s no way I’m leaving,” I said.
“Anna,” she said, her back to me. “Everyone knows the truth, but you—there’s something special about you. You can’t die here. You have to go.”
Draknir and Blake’s blades were screeching loudly, like nails on a chalkboard. I couldn’t hear anything else. The room wasalight with flame and electricity, powerful vibrations shaking the ground. The everi pulsed through me like radiation. I tried to block the everi swirling in physical manifestations but I couldn't; its power was so intense that I could barely stay upright.
“Anna!” I heard Caelan yelling at me and I looked for him. His arm was outstretched as he reached for me. Isabella was engaged with some of the blood mages while the others were struggling against Blake’s curse. He was doing it again—ripping their veins from their skin, all while still fighting Draknir. I couldn’t track their movements.
“Come on, Anna,” Caelan said. “Take my hand, I’m getting you out of here! We’ll get help!”
I tried to move against the raw energy swirling as the glass was picked up in the wind and cut into my skin. I reached for him, using all my strength to get ahead of him and as my fingers grasped his, he pulled.
