Sziravit are not known to attack when they are outnumbered, Harkin’s voice echoed through my mind.
There had only been one that night, and Harkin had saved me—scared the creature away when I had frozen. But there were far more now, and they looked upon us as easy prey.
We would have to save each other.
I leapt forward, sword raised high and water rushing along my arms. Ayla was right beside me, white hot flame illuminating the forest. The harsh light glared off the Sziravits’ eyes, and the ghosts shrieked in pain. Safiya raised the sharp rock around her; the ground shook with her mágik. With a yell, she flung the jagged shards at the Sziravit, piercing their bodies.
Black blood ran down their bodies, but still they marched forward. Their movements jittery and stilted, just as I remembered.
One lurched toward Safiya, landing a cutting blow to her injured knee. She cried out, tumbling to the side. Harkin summoned a current through the air, toppling the creatures and sending them rolling away from the group as Théo helped Safiya regain her feet.
Together, we pressed forward.
Two of the Sziravit succumbed to their injuries, black rock skewering them fully. They lay limp on the earthen floor.
The five remaining spirits wailed, clicking their jagged teeth and curving claws. Two of them stepped forward, heads cocked to the side.
Safiya grunted, teeth gritting as she moved her hands in an impressive motion. The earth shook once more, and a fissure formed in the rock. Two approaching Sziravit tumbled into the chasm, falling to the bottom with a sickening crunch.
We made quick work of the other three.
Harkin froze them in place with a shield of air while I slashed at their heads with my sword. Ayla followed behind, burning their corpses to a mottled crisp.
The air was thick with foul-smelling smoke, and I coughed, waving my hand in front of my face to dispel the ruined air. Harkin pushed away the bulk of it on a cleansing breeze.
I scrubbed my hands on my pants, leaving smears of their black blood behind. Exhaustion dragged at my limbs, but adrenaline fueled my racing mind.
We knew we would be unable to find sleep again, so we bandaged our wounds and set off, traveling deeper into the darkness.
Chapterfifty-two
Harkin
Our bones were weary and aching with a tiredness that went deeper than lack of sleep. The steady click of hooves on broken stone was the only sound that kept our group from the lulls of tempting oblivion.
I rubbed at my tired eyes, trying to convince myself that my exhaustion was not so terrible. I had gone longer—fought harder—on less sleep before, but the battle with the Sziravit had drained me. It had drained us all.
As we traveled deeper into the Sárkhona Draum, I struggled to remain on alert.
The home of the Drakány was dark, even at midday. The air fogged with an eerie mist. Unsettling noises racketed through the trees, gnarled and twisted beyond any I had ever seen.
The imbalance of mágik was a tangible thing. It permeated every facet of the land, evident in the shriveling greenery and the concerning lack of wildlife. Only a few Tünécris had crossed our paths, looking weak and worn. I wondered if the land was leeching the very mágik from their bodies, stealing their essence alongside it.
Seren ran her hand over my forearm soothingly, a reminder that I was not alone. She tipped her head back against my shoulder, andher hair fell across my neck. I ghosted a fleeting kiss across her brow as she looked up at me.
“Are you alright?” She asked, giving me a look of mild concern highlighted by the press of her lips.
“Fine,” I assured her. “Tired. Ready for this to end.”
This.
I mulled the word over in my mind. It could mean so many things. I wanted to arrive at our destination. I hoped Seren would succeed in the ritual, earning the powers I knew she deserved. I wished we had no more enemies to fight and that the council would not try to destroy the relationship that was starting between us.
I just wanted peace. I wanted to give Seren peace. I had once thought it impossible, and I had not yet been convinced that it wasn’t, but now I dared to hope.
Seren seemed to understand my meaning without me having to voice the words. She had always seen through me, so clearly, ever since those first early days. I had felt the opposite about her; she had been impossible to read. Looking at her now, I was grateful to see every emotion, every truth written upon her expressive face.
We had both changed in these past few months. We had helped each other change for the better.
