“Yes,” the sand sprite replied. “I guess even the celvusa can’t figure out how the shard ended up in her skin.” He looked between Farrah and Elias. “I begged her to run earlier, but she wouldn’t listen.”
Elias shook his head. “You know why she can’t.” A glance at Cason and Elias knew the fire wielder understood.
Freedom.
After a long silence, Serill whispered, “Then we figure out what Anfroy is doing and get the hells out. And perhaps Severina could benefit from new allies in the desert.”
“Brela really does keep clever company.” Oni’s smile narrowed. “I like you, Prince, and since you have Brela’s approval, I do not think it will take much convincing for my father to agree. The question remains, however, ifyourfather would agree.”
To his credit, Serill did not flinch from Oni’s glare. “His duty is to protect Severina, and an alliance with the sand sprites helps him do that.”
“By manipulating others to his own benefit? Letting others get their hands dirty, using them, and then discarding them once they are no longer useful?” Oni replied, gesturing to Brela. “I trust you, but I cannot trust your father, so I will test him. If your king does not betray Brela at the end of this—if she gets her moneyandfreedom—then the sand sprites will ally with you.”
And as desperately as Elias wanted Brela to wake up, he wished she could have waited five more minutes before she shot upright with a growl, leaned over, and hurled black liquid and red blood onto the sand.
* * *
Alei so’nim.
Daughter of… what?
Brela dug through the depths of her mind, or what was left of it, for the answer. Whatever senses she’d experienced while she walked through her memories as the celvusa were almost gone. The tendril of shadow she clung to was slipping through her fingers—the celvusa’s fading life or just her hold on its power, she didn’t know—leaving her to frantically search for the word that didn’t exist in the ancient language.
The real world was right there, she could see it, but she wasn’t done yet. The celvusa had used her, traveled through her mind looking for something, but she had clung to its power somehow. She used the beast right back.
It left her swimming in half-consciousness, teetering along the line of a thick, fog-like veil. Voices on the other side were distorted, and there was a soft tug beckoning her return, but still she grasped through the emptiness and the celvusa’s power. Still scanned for the word that did not exist in the shadow language.
So’nim.
Brela scoured her mind using the celvusa’s enhanced senses, fighting back the sob that grew in her throat as she watched forgotten or previously blurred memories of Lilla and Tybost and Valisea. She tried to recall the words, the images, thesmells, but there was nothing. Nothing to clarify what the celvusa had discovered about her before she had ripped that shadow from it.
Daughter ofwhat?She screamed along the black thread of connection she had with the creature. Anger curled her lip when it didn’t respond. She hissed again.Daughter of what?
The beast whimpered in pain, the black flame shuddering in her grip. Brela didn’t know why that noise cracked through her heart, not when the beast had nearly beheaded her, haunted her, and then swallowed her. But something deep inside her told her to pull, so she yanked with all her might.
The tendril of smoke and shadow stopped writhing. Slowly, it curled around her wrist and squeezed. Dug into her skin and sank into her veins, running up her arm.
Cold bit into the shard in her collarbone and her fingers splayed, releasing the dark leash.
No.
She tumbled over the thick veil, reality slamming into her body so quickly she barely turned in time to not vomit all over herself. Her hands grasped for the leash, clawing through the air despite the pain ripping through her body. Blurry arms kept her from falling off whatever surface she was on, another set pulling from her back.
Voices, so many voices shouted at her in a language she didn’t remember.
Where the hells was she?
Gods, the world was so hazy without the senses of the celvusa. Is this what it always looked like? Sounded like? Smelled like?
Smell. The celvusa had smelled something on her. It had learned something about her, and she needed to know.
Brela shoved past the arms that held her back, ignored the muffled and confused shouts, and stumbled out of the fabric doors of the room. A tent? It didn’t matter.
She scrubbed at her eyes quickly, making out enough shapes to find the path of crystal bones to follow to the archway. Yanking out of another grip with a feral snarl, Brela vomited again from the pain, drew Night Carver, and stormed toward Ceirdephal.
Sparkling moonlight showed the archway was empty. Only a circular trench remained where she had fallen, the sand drowned in blood. Too much blood for her body. Not all hers, she realized as her free hand ran over the dozens of pain points in her abdomen and throat. No broken skin, despite being impaled by the celvusa’s teeth, and her arm was functional.
She had been healed, but there was no doubt she’d hurt the beast. There was enough blood here to prove she’d done serious damage.
