Again, a beam of starlight explodes up intothe sky, and again it washes scorching heat across my back before vanishing into nothing as it hits the pulsing darkness.
A scream sounds faintly behind me. Galla’s voice. I recognize the frustration in it, but now I detect a new emotion. One she rarely shows.
Fear.
And again, she tries, but now, I’m descending the slope toward the Vividari’s temple, and I can only see the light from above.
I’ll move faster without my armor, without its weight, this cage around my body, but I’m not sure if I should remove it. When I reach Thyra—because Iwillreach her—I might need my armor to shield her.
But if it slows me down too much and I don’t reach her in time, then it won’t matter how useful it could have been.
Making a decision, I peel off my armor, each piece hitting the ground, until I’m dressed only in long black pants and the leather straps across my chest. I keep only my axe and the assassin’s knife, carrying one in each hand.
My speed increases now that I’m free of the metallic constraints, and I hurtle toward the Vividari temple, preparing to veer around it, only to dig in my heels when a figure emerges from the structure.
Hadrian?
His focus is turned to the sky, the direction Thyra flew.
As Galla’s power lights up the air once more, my brother turns to me, starlight shining across his face, lighting up his smug smile.
My heart sinking, I cross the distance between us, a clawing dread rising up within me. “What did you do?”
“What you couldn’t.” His smile doesn’t falter as he sweeps his hand out from behind his back—a move I should have been watching for.
His fist unfurls, releasing a plume of crimson dust right into my path.
The scent of iron fills the air as I veer left, attempting to evade the cloud, only for it to change direction and follow me.
What the fuck?
Iron dust wraps around my body, defying gravity to stream up my neck and across my jaw as well as cascading down my chest, burning granules searing across my skin, threatening to drive me to the ground.
I stumble but refuse to fall.
This burn is nothing compared to the pure fury that scorches my mind as I force myself to dig in my heels once more.
Force myself to calm my breathing. Lower my axe and the knife. Control my anger. Rise up to my full height, hair covering my eyes, face in shadow.
The slower I move, the slower the granules swarm across me, a force pushing me back from Hadrian, a defensive action.
He wants to talk, I’m sure of it.
So I force myself to wait.
Wait through the pain.
Wait for my prey.
He will tell me everything before I end him. It doesn’t matter that he’s my brother. All I can see is the ropey scar on Thyra’s side.
“It was you,” I say. “You hurt Thyra.”
Hadrian remains standing five paces away from me, his arms extended, with a look of intense concentration on his face. “It was me.”
My blood heats with new fury at his admission, but I force myself to remain still. “How did you know where she was?”
“That’s the curious thing,” he replies. “I didn’t.Stanimir did.”
