‘What the hell are you doing?’ I shouted, but he pointed towards the box. The air around the splitting cube began distorting into something dark and hollow, and so very, very cold.
‘Out! Everybody out!’ he shouted just as the artificers started weaving a spell. ‘It’s activating. Wraiths, Sana… It’s about to release the wraiths!’
A glowing spiral appeared between the two halves of the box. With a groan that made my teeth ache, cracks appeared on the metal.
‘Get down!’ someone shouted.
With a loud boom, the metal shattered, spraying srebrec in every direction. I was already on the floor, but one of the artificers screamed, clutching his abdomen. Ciesko leapt forward, rushing to help him.
The containment spell was still holding back the magic, but it hadn’t done a damn thing to hold back the srebrec. My mind raced. I tried to think of what might help, looking on in horror at the rotating disc where a cube had been before and the terrifying darkness seeping from its surface.
‘Shit.’ I scrambled to my feet, turning to Ciesko. ‘Get him out of here and call for the battlemages.’
The wave of frost preceded the darkness. A thick layer was already covering the containment spell’s walls. A dark, icy wind came from the heart of the darkness, and I swallowed hard when it whispered my name.
‘Where are those battlemages?’ I asked, looking at the remaining artificer, whose eyes were transfixed in horror at the sight before him. ‘We need fire, the stronger the better,’ I said, but the man shook his head.
‘I can’t. It’s siphoning off my aether. I can’t even light a match.’
‘Then find someone who can, and do it fast,’ I said, my breath catching as I watched disaster unfold. Unique ability, my arse, yet I was the only one left who could create a flame, and I didn’t know why. The irony of it all nearly made me laugh.
The dull thud of the closing door told me Ciesko was gone. I didn’t move. Just stared at my shaking hands, then trieddrawing the sigil for fire on my palm. Each attempt was a failure. I was too cold and too nervous to stop the trembling in my hands. My desperation grew each time I glanced at the containment spell, watching the colours grow bruised and sickly as it degraded.
A large, calloused hand landed on mine. Tova took the quill from my hand and drew a faultless fire rune, as if he’d been doing it since the day he was born.
‘I saw the mages do it enough times,’ he said, answering my unspoken question. ‘You’ve got this, Drah’sa. I’ll be here till the bitter end if that’s our fate. We’ve beaten them once; we’ll do it again.’
This impossible…I knew he’d stay. This was Tova, boneheaded, reckless, and so loyal he’d put a flight of dragons to shame. I screamed as the containment barrier gave way, the wordless shout twisting into the words of the spell. A torrent of frost and fog burst outwards, only to bounce harmlessly off the flames that appeared before me. Deep inside, my power raged, recognising the source of this terrifying malevolence.
‘Let me in, Sana,’ whispered a voice from the void, the in-between. ‘Don’t leave me to die in the fire again.’
It couldn’t be her. This darkness was the absence of life. Still, the voice kept calling, pleading from its icy depths.
The voice of my mother, begging for mercy.
I stumbled back. The sight of my ancestral home ablaze and her piercing screams filled my mind. She was suffering, and my heart was breaking at her agony.
‘How is this possible?’ Bereft, I fell to my knees, and the flames flickered and died.
Chapter 11
Roksana
Iknelt there, helpless as the fog swirled around me. It twisted and churned until my mother stood before me. Her braid rippled against her simple peasant blouse and kirtle in an unseen wind. Everything was exactly as I remembered. Even her smile was the same. I wanted to run to her. To embrace her. To beg her forgiveness. To tell her I tried extinguishing the fire that consumed her and my sister.
‘Sana… I waited…’ she whispered in my mind. I reached for her, but never touched her. Dwarfish hands landed on my shoulders, pulling me back with bruising force.
‘Tova, please…’ I cried, gasping when fire erupted from behind us. Four spears of flame, so hot it hurt to look at them, hit my mother in the chest.
I screamed. A mindless, animalistic wail burst from my throat as I once again watched my mother reach for me while she burned. The pressure eased on my shoulders, allowing me to move again, but as I reached out, Tova leapt from behind me with a battle cry, his axe raised above his head. He hurled his weapon, and I watched in horror as it split the disc in half.
The churning frost collapsed. One decisive strike cut off the oppressive energy. I stood there, shocked to my core as the battle mages moved forward. They were perfectly coordinated, burning away the residual fog, melting the frost coating every surface and instrument, until there was nothing left. The charred remains of the once-pristine examination table, its screws and struts a puddle of melted metal on the floor, stood as silent testament to how close we’d been to catastrophe.
‘Drah’sa… talk to me. Come on, Sana, it was only a bit of frost and magic.’ Tova’s voice sounded distorted, competing with the screaming in my ears. He shook my shoulders, his bearded face appearing before mine, concern etched on his features, but all I could see was the betrayal in my mother’s eyes.
‘Oh for… I’m sorry,’ Tova said. I didn’t know what he was apologising for until he slapped my cheek so hard that tears welled in my eyes.
‘Do that again, and I’ll rip your fucking hand off,’ I said, covering my rapidly heating cheek.
