Tears leaked from my eyes as the pain reached a crescendo. It felt like I was being skinned alive, and I grew too weak to even pull for my magic. She’d incapacitated me—probably should’ve killed me, but my three shields had dispersed her magic. If only I could…
“You stupidgirl. Don’t you know how powerful I am?” Surlama stood over me, staring down at me in disgust.
I blinked, and Honor appeared in my mind’s eye, his sad expression as he stared out over the lake.
‘You’re not real,’he’d said.
I couldn’t leave him like that. Iwouldn’t. Any more than I’d let Rage, Noble, or Justice die because of me. I needed help. High mage help.
‘Grandpa!’I shouted, picturing his face in my mind’s eye as I had with Kaja.
An eerie calm washed over me. Then, I heard his reply.
‘Nai? What is this? I sense your end.’His troubled voice echoed inside my brain.
‘Help,’I begged. ‘Surlama. Spell.’That was all I could muster. My gaze landed on Rage, kneeling and panting on the ground, his mother standing over him, weeping to the king to spare his life.
How did this happen? How had it gone so wrong?
‘Give me the spell.’Grandpa’s voice was firm in my mind, and I felt a pull at my navel.
‘What?’Confusion muddled my thoughts, and I struggled to make sense of his words.
‘Come into the spirit realm and give the spell to me,’he commanded.
‘How?’I asked—begged, really. What had I done to visit Kaja?
‘Let go, Nai. Picture me clearly and then let go.’
I imagined the kind and wrinkled face of my grandfather, a man I barely knew, yet he’d already risked so much for me. Love for him filled me, and then…
I landed on sand, panting, but no longer in pain. A shadow cast over me, and I raised my head to see Grandpa Geoff on the beach—the same one where he’d asked me to pick my affinity. He clasped either side of my face, and then my sweet gramps stared me down with blazing eyes.
“Kill the witch, and meet me in Montana.”
He sucked in a huge breath, right in front of my face, and the sickly green mist lifted off of me as if he’d breathed in the spell. It floated through the air and went into him.
I gasped, and my eyes snapped open.
To find Surlama standing over me with a long dagger.
The entire room and all of its occupants seemed to be holding their breath, waiting. There were no screams. No voices. No more pain. My vision tunneled, and determination filled me.
Time to die, witch.
Magic coursed through me. My skin prickled as the power built, and I launched upright, grabbing her arm that held the knife with my left hand and yanking it over her head with a snarl. I slammed my right hand into her throat. Her eyes widened; she moved her mouth but no words came out.
With a bellow of rage, I hurled my power at her. I threw so much wild, unrestrained, vindictive magic into her, my vision spotted. The energy left my body in a rush of light, leaving me dizzy while I held on to her neck, choking the life out of her. Her face turned purple as I cut off her air, and her eyes widened in shock. This selfish mage had stolen her last vial of blood. She’d manipulated her last victim. She’d experienced her last moment of sick pleasure.
“Give my regards to the Keeper of Souls,” I growled.
My blue magic traced over her skin, following the network of her veins, and then she … exploded. Like a sausage filled with too much heat and moisture, pieces of flesh and bone splattered onto the walls and floors.
Holy mage.
“Nai!” Rage bellowed from the other side of the room where he was again locked in battle with his uncle.
It looked like most of the guards were down or fled, and Fiona was out of bullets.
