My palms pressed against his cool, soft skin, and Thaddeus readied himself. Knowing what came next, my body began to revolt as bile rose to the back of my throat.
No. I can’t do this.
I went to release my hands, break the connection, but his unspoken spell reverberated through my mind.
Stenje ma.
The command rang through my body like millions of tiny lightning strikes, fracturing me. My eyes shot open, back arched, and mouth gaped open as a silent scream of agony ripped through me. It was the same cleaving pain as before, but sharper. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I was no longer in control.
My head lolled, tilting to the side, as power continued to flow from me, and a blue-white light lit Tarrin’s features, his eyes wide with horror.
Stenje ma. My body snapped to attention, and fresh, sharpened pain gripped my every sense at his unrelenting tone—my power roiled in protest.
Foreign images flooded my mind as if Thaddeus were pouring them into the spell—true wordless communication with whatever forces heeded his call. He expressed his desires, showed the outcome of what he wanted without being too descriptive, like an artist who had a vague idea of what the canvas wanted to become but left the details to the magic all artists tap into.
After receiving a compliment on a piece, I’d once heard an artist say,That’s how she wanted to be, I was merely a conduit in bringing her to life.He’d talked about the painting as if he weren’t even the artist, like he’d been a mere vessel and the Mother had worked her magic through him. That was what this reminded me of.
Image after image pressed from Thaddeus into me, my power, until he’d forced it to bend to his will. I gasped, not at what I beheld but at how that yielding surrendered more of myself to him, tethered me to him in a way it hadn’t before.
Blackness surrounded us as it had that day when Thaddeus had shown me our histories. Scenes flickered in the air, too quick for me to focus on any single one.
Tairus. Tairus, he soothed. The flashing slowed, narrowed, and above us, all around us, a map of the lands appeared, as clear as day.
Exashius.The order came through with the same demands asmaiattorhad that first time, slashing me from the inside out.
Exashius. Exashius. Exashius. Each command was more exacting—more wrenching—than the last.
My lower lip quivered uncontrollably, and I could no longer identify the different kinds of pain traversing my body. The torturous agony was now everywhere, constant. Had I been in control of my own faculties, I would have succumbed to unconsciousness already—but I would not be afforded such a mercy.
With every repetition of the spell, the map shifted, became more precise, more narrowed in as if it were showing a snapshot of a bird’s-eye view from a different altitude, getting closer every time.
Finally, six snapshots popped up in succession, then it pulled out to show the full map again, leaving behind six marks on the map.
Thaddeus’ anger was palpable. The spell hadn’t complied with his request. He’d asked for the magical object first, but it looked like the power had disobeyed him, giving him the portals instead—if that was what those markings were.
Thaddeus screamed in frustration, his rage boiling over, and he threw it toward my power, toward me, and in our mother tongue, he said,“You will yield to me.”
Five hundred years of practice and unrelenting will crashed into me. I buckled from the force, and my legs gave out as a bloodcurdling scream tore from me. My power continued to resist him, while my body caved to his demands.
“You. Will. Yield. To. Me.” Each word was strained, clipped, as if he was having a hard time containing the power too. In an instant, the blackness around us vanished as my power began submitting to the order.
An invisible force suspended me in midair, my hands unmoving, still offering my power to him.
“Yield.” The sound of his voice shocked me. It wasn’t in my mind, but an actual spoken command.
Running out of options, my power was about to give in, its resistance placing too much strain on my body.
Tears that tasted of copper ran into my mouth.
“Thaddeus,” Tarrin yelled. “Stop. You’re killing her.”
Thaddeus’ rage doubled back, angry at the disturbance. We both knew my powers were mere seconds from yielding to him, and I felt his anticipation of exaltation that surely awaited him.
Tarrin made for me.
“Estania.” Thaddeus’ cold command rang out as he unleashed his fury on Tarrin.
Tarrin rammed into my side, wrapping his arms around me, one hand cradling my head as he tackled me out of the way. Our screams echoed from the sudden disconnection.
