Even from a distance, I can see the rage that courses through her. Relief floods through me, threatening to bring me to my knees. But I refuse to look at her, refuse to give her advantage away.
I fire wave after wave of magic at Cora, unwilling to let her see Elle. But Cora is too quick, dodging each blow and moving with enough speed to fire off her own shots against the both of us.
Finally, the stag surges forward quicker than I ever imagined. Elle holds a sword made of blazing light, aimed straight for Cora.
Sweet, sweet relief overcomes me as I realize Elle’s going to make it. She rams the blade straight through Cora’s heart, piercing her chest. She gasps as she looks down at the lightsword, her hands gripping it as she falls.
Blood pours from her hands as she sinks to her knees. On the floor, her eyes find mine. She smiles, and shoots a bolt of black lightning right at my own heart.
Everything goes dark.
The End
Epilogue
Fire consumes me from the inside out. Waves of flames sear through me, an endless sea of blazing white.
I scream and thrash, but I can’t move. Something blocks me from moving.
All I feel is fire, in my veins, in my lungs, crawling over every nerve ending.
Help me.
The quiet is unnerving. The blackness is all-consuming. But I’m breathing.
I focus on each breath, in and out. I focus on the rise and fall of my chest.
I’m breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I’m alive.
A tear slides down my cheek. I’m alive.
Something moves rhythmically against my thigh in short, back-and-forth motions.
A dull pain radiates through my body, but the fire is gone.
I exhale shakily. In. Out. In. Out.
A weight is literally lifted from my stomach. I can’t open my eyes. I don’t want to know where I am. I don’t want to know what happened. I want to stay right here in this blissful ignorance.
I don’t want to know who died, who got hurt, or even how badly I got hurt. I want to stay right here, unmoving, ignorant to all of the horrible things that happened.
“Mae,” someone whispers hoarsely.
No. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to just hold onto it for a little bit longer.
“It’s okay,” the voice says.
Something—a hand—touches my cheek. The touch itself is soft, but the hand that touches my cheek is rough and calloused.
I flinch at the touch.
“It’s okay,” the voice repeats. The thumb starts stroking my cheek gently in that same back-and-forth motion.
“Please,” the voice says. The plea is soft and filled with emotion. My heart breaks. “Mae,” it says. My eyes are still squeezed shut, but black eyes fill my thoughts. Black, like the night sky. Black, with the sliver of green. “Open your eyes,” the voice commands me. “Please,” it says, voice back to soft.
This voice has never said please to me before. I open my eyes.
Asmo stares at me, a single lock of midnight-black hair falling forward. I reach up with a shaky hand and brush it back.
