“Farron, no.”
My lip curls. Weak. That’s what he wants me to be. Perhaps he’s jealous of my power. I can practically smell his fear.
I thought I could do this by myself, and I was proven wrong. That madman Perth Quellos demonstrated just how weak I am on my own. When I stepped into the pool Below, I took this power to protect those I love. With the stars as my witness, I will use it.
I take a step, and power radiates within me. My limbs don’t feel like my own anymore; I am flame, flickering and blazing. Every thought is engulfed in the torrent.
In front of me, I see the net thrower. A woman, her skin the color of sage. Her horns carve over her head and through her long hair.
“Stay back,” she snarls, all the maniacal joy gone.
I have no time for her. This is about one person and one person alone.
I pulse my fingers, testing how well these flames answer to my command. They come easily, like old friends, hungry for my attention. Good.
With a snap of my wrist, a whip made of green flame cracks outward. Flames shaped like clawed hands writhe along it. The underfae woman screams as it snaps right over her face. The flaming hands leap onto her body, tearing with their blazing claws. I’m laughing again, so loud it almost drowns out her sweet cries.
I take a deep inhale. The smell of sizzling hair and burning fabric graces my nose. She’s down on her knees now, wriggling in the dirt, trying to put out the flames. I hit her only on one side; half her face is charred flesh, the skin drooping downward like candle wax. Her hair has burned away, leaving her horn scorched.
That’s dealt with.
I cast a glance at the others who would threaten my family. Faustrius. His eyes are wide, body trembling. His sword nearly falls from his hands.
I have no time for him either. I throw out my hand, a cyclone of fire whipping outward. There’s a woman’s scream and a flash ofgold in the corner of my peripheral vision, but I don’t bother to look.
This is about the one person who needs to die.
Far down the bridge, I see Sira.
There, the voice purrs in my mind.Kill her, but not the boy.
My lip curls in a sneer.No.
What?
I don’t have time for Sira or to argue with this demanding presence. This is about one person and one person only.
Perth Quellos will die this day.At all costs.
He’s standing in the middle of the bridge, Keldarion trapped in ice before him.
“Farron! Free me!” Kel screams.
I walk past. The Winter blood can wait.
Quellos takes a step back, but he is at the very edge of the bridge. Below him is only bubbling lava. If he was smart, he’d jump in now and save himself the pain.
“Farron, stop! Stay with us!” a woman’s voice. Rosalina.
I glance over my shoulder, frustrated about the plea for my attention. She’s standing near the passageway we entered from. Dayton, Ezryn, and an unconscious Kairyn—or what used to beKairyn—are tangled in her golden briars. A second later, Cas appears in his own purple thorns. At my feet, Kel is wrapped in vines and tugged across the bridge toward them.
I turn back to Quellos. Don’t they understand?Thisis how I protect them.
There’s a sharp tug on my leg, and I fall to my knees. A golden briar is weaving around me, attempting to pull me away. A growl sounds through my throat, and I slam a flaming hand on the briar. It withers to ash. Rosalina cries out behind me.
She’s hurt. Quellos must have hurt her.
Iwillprotect them from him.
