Air choked in Heraphia’s throat. I hurriedly wiped hermouth, then maneuvered her onto her side so she could breathe.
Still, her struggle did not relent. I bared my teeth at the Korona. “Stop giving her more magic! You’re killing her!”
“She’s almost there,” Iaoth gritted back, her skin pale and limbs trembling. A sheen of sweat coated her brow.
“You have no idea what this power is like,” I spat, wedging my arm beneath my friend’s head to support it further.
Another whimper—broken, desolate—brought hot tears to my eyes.
“See? She’s almost out,” Iaoth sneered. With a twist of her hands, she added more power. “Whatever she has to say will be world-changing. I just know it. My most brilliant darling.”
Heraphia seemed to alight from the inside out. Her thrashing slowed, along with her rise and fall of her chest.
And then…
She gasped, slamming to a sit, aquamarine irises locking with mine. A hand flew to her sternum, grasping at the band of power stretched between her and the Korona.
The glow intensified, and she screamed as if she were burning. She collapsed against the ground, writhing and clawing at her clothes.
“Heraphia!” I shouted, kneeling over her and trying to catch her desperate hands. My arms brushed through the line of magic, and it shocked me, sending a ripple of power through my veins so strong it yanked on the threads of my own power for a split second. I jerked back before it could take hold.
“Make it stop!” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face.
The Korona was by my side, leaning over my friend, in an instant. “My pet, what are you Seeing? Tell me to save your lover.”
But Heraphia couldn’t respond, merely babbled and sobbed and seized.
“Iaoth!” I shrieked, not caring that I was addressing the ruler of the Angels so informally.
Heraphia’s eyes rolled back once more.
“I need to hear what she Saw!” Iaoth protested.
Of course, that was all she fucking cared about.
Without thinking, I raised my hand and slapped the Korona across the face. “Stop the magic. Right fucking now,” I demanded. The sting in my palm was a welcome relief from the panic binding my ribs.
I’d unpack my violent act later, once Heraphia was okay.
The band of luminosity dimmed by the barest bit as Iaoth ire turned on me. “How dare you strike me!”
“I’d do it again to save my friend. Now let go of your power,” I snapped.
The Korona’s teeth gritted. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple. “I’m trying.”
“Try harder!”
My best friend stilled, the incandescent river drying up to a gossamer stream.
I whipped to her again, collapsing over her face and smoothing her hair away. “Thank you,” I choked out as Heraphia’s brows unfurrowed.
“That wasn’t me,” Iaoth gulped.
Heraphia’s eyes flew open—wild, crazed, and searching. She snatched my shoulders, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
“Sylaira. I Saw it. I Saw the end.”
Her breath hitched as she reached for my face. But her hand never made it. Heraphia collapsed, arms falling like the end of a dance, hitting the floor with resounding, final thuds. Aquamarine orbs grew glassy and distant.
