“Sierra Walker, what do you think you’re doing?” the old man thunders.
Neither Destien nor I pause.
“Destien, back here now,” Evram snaps. “Get this shield down.”
Shit. Should have blocked his view after all.
I dash back and arrive just before Destien, standing between my grove and two powerful High Earth mages.
Breathing hard, I hold the stolen wand out in front of me and plant my feet.
I will not let them have this.
Even if I have to kill them both.
“I can’t believe,” Evram says, “you would use all I gave you for something like this.”
‘Something like this’ meaning ‘hoarding magic selfishly for myself despite the damage it could do’, is what he thinks he’s implying.
‘Standing against him’ is the real offense.
Mercurial as ever, the grand magus abruptly sighs in a disappointed way that still has the power to twist my heart. “What happened to you, Sierra?”
And that twist turns me to full wrath.
“Whathappened?“ I echo. “I loved you like a father, Evram. I did everything you asked of me for years and wasgladto, and it didn’t matter. I was so devoted to you that I never saw your betrayal coming.Youchanged me. And now you have the gall to expect me to just lie back and let someone who considers me lesser keep me, keep a wholeworld, from what you had no right to take in the first place?Fuckyou.”
My voice, harsh and out-of-breath as it is, echoes in the air.
Evram’s expression hardens. “Destien. The shield.”
I’ve pulled as much magic as I can. Literally—I reached the bottom of the well. Evram must know that, and he’s banking that my attack will miss, or that Destien’s can overwhelm me.
When I feel the sudden huge presence coming from Destien, it’s the first time I’ve really worried the grand magus might be right.
Destien shoots magic at the shield. Again, and again, and again. Inexorably.
The shield won’t stand up to this.
My plan changes. If they get the grove it’s all over.
The shield comes down, and I focus all my magic, targeting Destien’s wand. It’ll have to go through his shields first, but—
Destien’s wand snaps.
I blink, glancing down at my own wand as if it has the answers. But no—I didn’t release any magic.
That wasn’t me.
Shadows coalesce beside me into the form of Nathaniel.
Nathaniel, my ass.
“You would consort with demons, Sierra?” Evram demands.
Demon, a colloquial term for spirits, usually either implying that they’re unusually and possibly unnaturally powerful or unusually but naturally evil.
The grand magus, like many people, just uses the term for all spirits, because he considers all of them beneath him.
