Page 70 of The City Of Fractured Memory

My brows furrow, confusion replacing my panic. “It’s mortal magic, I think I just released it in its raw form instead of directing it.”

She shakes her head slowly, her eyes searching me from head to toe. “No, Octavia. That is not mortal magic.”

“You’re mistaken. I was taught as a child–”

“Who taught you?” Her voice rings sharp as she gingerly gets to her feet, brushing off the dust from my unexpected explosion.

“My father, I think. He taught me everything I know about magic before he died.”

Stryx takes a deep breath like she’s summoning her courage, before stepping forward and placing a shaking hand on my shoulder. “Your magic has the same resonance I felt from the one who chased us in the Archives.”

I take a moment to process her words, nausea coiling in my stomach as my breathing quickens again. “You’re not suggesting…”

She nods with a grimace, tears pricking at her eyes. “I think it’s the Veyne.”

The words hit like a physical blow. I stare at Stryx in horror, my chest tightening as her words sink in. “You’re not making sense–”

“Yes, I am.” Stryx steps closer, placing both her hands on my shoulders, her amber eyes gleaming in the dim light of our apartment. “That’s not mortal magic, Octavia. That’s something older. Wilder. Something you shouldn’t even be capable of wielding. I can’t believe you’ve managed to survive this long without anyone noticing it.”

“No—no, that’s—no one can–” I can’t get the words out. Nothing makes sense anymore. Even with my Shadow mercifully absent, I still can’t think straight.

“Yes,” Stryx cuts in, her voice softening but not relenting. “It’s possible. And you…” She trails off, watching my face crumple as understanding begins to dawn on me. “You have both bloodlines in you. It explains everything—the way your magic burns through you, the way it defies control. You’ve been trying to use it like a mortal, forcing it into form without the proper incantations. But the Forbidden Current isn’t meant to be shaped. It just is.”

My breathing quickens, the walls starting to close in around me. “No. No, Stryx, stop. You’re wrong. You’re wrong.”

“Octavia–”

“Stop!” My voice breaks. My hands tremble violently, crackling faintly with unstable magic that starts to shimmer like oil in the air as I lose control of myself. “I can’t—I can’t have that in me—I’d know–”

“Breathe,” Stryx says urgently, stepping forward, but I stumble back, gripping the edge of the desk to steady myself. My vision blurs, my chest heaving.

“I can’t breathe—Gods, Stryx, I can’t–”

I fall to my knees, the usual pain not registering at all as I grapple for my control, but I feel too lost.

“Octavia, look at me,” Stryx commands, falling by my side and grabbing my face, turning my head to look at her. “Look. At. Me.”

Her voice cuts through my panic like a blade, grounding me. But my heart still hammers wildly, my mind spinning with things I can’t understand.

“I don’t want this,” I gasp. “I don’t want any of this.”

Stryx holds me until the tremors begin to ease, though her own expression remains lined with worry. “You don’t have a choice anymore,” she says quietly. “You’re burning yourself alive with power you don’t understand. And if we don’t act now, it’s going to consume you. This isn’t just a case anymore. I started to suspect a few days ago, but I think this is all linked to the prophecy.”

“The prophecy?” I breathe, my blood running cold.

“The reason I’m here,” she nods. “I was sent here to find you, to ensure everything carried out as it should, but there are things even I don’t understand. This is far over our heads. We need help.”

My eyes meet hers, raw and desperate. “Then what do we do?”

Stryx hesitates before answering. “We go to Lunoreth.”

I recoil. “No, that’s not possible.”

“Yes.” Stryx’s tone is final. “The Echofae will know how to help you control this. They’re the only ones who can.”

My pulse races, my throat tight with fear. “And if they won’t?” I whisper.

“They will,” Stryx says simply.