If I could breathe, I’d cry. I’d scream.Take it, it seems to say. No. Itdemands.
Take it. Take it. Take it.
For a long second, I’m confused. Takewhat? And where is this sudden urge calling from? What is this yawning opening I feel within me? I’m hungry.Ravenous. It isn’t until Achates yanks on the back of my head, his fist diving into my hair to tug my head back that I refocus on his magic.
Yes!That calling voice seems to grow louder.Take it! Now!
Something happens to me in that moment. As if my subconscious is shoved backward into the recesses of my mind and that voice surges forward, taking the reins. I watch in fascination and horror as my hands rise and take hold of Achates’ shoulders, the only part of him that I can really grab onto.
My nails dig into the fabric of his shirt, and as if the voice within me has its own claws, it latches onto Achates’ magic and yanks on it. Pulling it toward me –intome.
I feel that pit in my stomach open wide, yawning to suck the ancient magic into its cavernous void. Achates’ eyes flare wide. His face crumples in distress as he realises what is happening.
I’m stealing his magic.
I can feel it, feel myself sucking it out of him and into my body. Right where I’ve been told our elements are supposed to reside, whereI’ve often searched for a flicker of something only to come up empty-handed. His magic feels wrong inside of me; it doesn’t feel likemine. My body knows it’s wrong, but it swallows it down just the same. As if it’s been starved for decades and is finally tasting food for the first time, greedy to inhale anything at this point.
For my entire life I have felt nothing. Emptiness. Magicless. But as Achates’ magic swells in me, I no longer feel barren. Instead, I feel powerful.
‘What have youdone?’ he bellows and releases me from his hold. The magic at my throat dissipates as he rears back, shoving off me. My hands fall to my sides shaking with adrenaline. The tips of my fingers suddenly find the familiar texture of leather. My body heaves as I inhale a lungful of air. I grip the hilt tightly and slide the dagger beneath the fabric of my robe at my side.
My heavy breathing fills the air between us as I speak. ‘You stole from them,’ I cough, tasting copper on my tongue. ‘So,Istole fromyou.’
He snarls, his milky eyes flaring wide and feverish. ‘You had no right!’
When he lunges, I brace myself for the attack knowing this is my last chance. The second his hands reach for the collar of my robe, I swing my arm wide and thrust my dagger into the fleshy space where his neck meets his shoulder. I stab through skin and muscle with all the might I have.
His pained wail bounces off the walls. He jerks backward, reaching up in surprise at the weapon lodged in his body. Something strange happens, something I’ve never seen the dagger do before. The malachite in the blade starts to glow from within, the two inches still on the outside of Achates’ body flaring to life like a spark catching air and igniting into a flame. Achates roars, his eyes blowing wide.
The dagger – it’s doing something to him. He keens and wails like he’s being burn t from the inside out, dark greenish-black vein -like webs spreading from the wound beneath his skin. That’s when I feel it. The well inside of me bursts, unable to contain the magic it stole. It pushes against the confines of my skin, making me scream – it feels like it’sstretching me thin. Until it’s bursting out of me in a torrent of wind that surges forward, barrelling toward Achates. His own power attacks him, crashes into his chest and sends him flying backward, down the stairs with the dagger still lodged in his neck.
My eyes widen. My hands tremble. I have no idea what is happening or what I just did …or how. But I use this moment to dig deep, deep inside myself for the last vestiges of energy I have left, ignoring the hollow pit where his magic just vacated as more copper fills the back of my throat. I turn around and frantically climb up the steps, pressing my lips together as my body roars in agony with each sluggish movement. But I keep going and going, until a shard of light from the door at the top of the stairs fills my vision.
That light is all I focus on as I quicken my ascent. When my hand closes around the handle I shove the door open, expecting to see dozens of Agate students on the other side but …
It’s empty. The space isempty. I keep going, confused but knowing I need to get out of this tower. Suddenly, there’s a thunderous bellow in the air.
He’s still coming.
I practically fall through the gate into the Grand Hall, but just before I collapse to my knees, strong arms catch me.
‘Ria!’ Sebastian’s voice cracks as he lifts me to my feet. ‘Where have you – you’re bleeding! What the fuck happened?’ He holds me at arm’s length, eyes blazing down my body, searching for the source of the blood. His beautiful face pinches with pain and fury on seeing me battered and bruised.
‘Sebastian!’ I cry out, holding onto him desperately as tears cascade down my cheeks. I’m unable to hold my emotions at bay. Not with him. ‘You have to leave!’ I plead and start to tug on his arms. ‘Hurry. He’s coming.’
Now that I know what Bartollo is,whohe is, the thought of Sebastian facing that kind of power terrifies me down to my bones. Sebastian might be powerful and a strong fighter, but I’m not willing to risk hislife in order to see if the magic he possesses can match that of a Star. Wounded or not.
‘Whois coming?’ he asks, his eyes searching behind me. Toward the gate.
My fingers tremble against his forearms as I barely whisper the name. ‘Achates.’
As if saying his true name can beckon him, I feel that familiar charge of power behind me skating up my spine. My head snaps around. ‘No,’ I breathe. ‘We’re too late.’
‘Get behind me!’ Sebastian orders, putting himself in between the gate and me. The second the gate darkens, green flames burst to life in Sebastian’s palms. ‘Run, Ria,’ he bellows at me over his shoulder. ‘Get out of here.’
‘No!’ My head shakes from side to side. ‘I won’t leave you,’ I cry out with a shaky voice. ‘He’s—’
Achates suddenly appears on our side of the gate. A nasty scowl is etched across his face that’s covered in the vein -like webs crawling from the wound at his neck. Dark blood coats his skin and I notice the dagger is gone.
