Page 91 of Demonic Affliction

Time stops.

The roar of destruction and rushing wind cuts off in the same instant, and the cavern goes eerily silent. Every shard of falling ice hangs suspended in the space between us. Vhalthor is frozen mid-shout, his mouth formed around my name and his eyes comically wide.

My throat works around a swallow, and with a shock of clarity, I realize that I alone am unaffected by this strange power. The serafyn’s power.

Willow?

"Yes?" My voice is unusually tinny in the quiet.

This world… those males… Do they really mean so much to you?

I'm not able to speak. Instead, I nod weakly. Yes. Yes, they mean everything. I would give my life for theirs in a heartbeat. I would give anything just to see them one last time. To hold them. To tell them that I love them.

There is a low laugh, but it is more sad than anything else. Then… this gift is for you.

What are you talking about?

My magic. That hoarse, sad laugh again. It’s yours, little human. Just for a short while and this one time. Use it wisely.

Power builds beneath my skin, starting in the same place it did before, spreading out to the tips of my fingers—but there's no pain behind it this time. No feeling of being torn apart, or being dipped in acid. It flows through my veins, filling me with a comforting warmth, a thousand tiny bolts of lightning, a million shots of adrenaline.

This is what the serafyn’s power is supposed to feel like. It’s… incredible.

At that moment, I realize that everything is at my fingertips. I could go anywhere, do anything I want. I could bring down the ceiling. I could destroy this world. I could rip the fabric of the universe apart piece by piece.

I could save my mates and heal The Far Place.

I don’t need to think about my options. My heart makes my decision for me. I take hold of the power thrumming inside me, and it answers instantly. Wings of raw energy spread from my spine, beating hard against the frigid air.

My feet leave the ground, and I fly up, up, up toward the dying Welwig.

I press my palm flat against the bark and close my eyes. Power pours out of me, more than I've ever moved through my body, more than I ever thought was possible. Black recedes wherever the light touches, giving way to a bright, healthy blue. The stench of rot fades from the air.

As if someone pressed rewind on a tape recorder, the broken slabs of ceiling return to their places. The roots reattach to the walls. The wreckage is put back in order. The horrible, broken creatures are turned to puddles of ash, then whisked away by a gentle breeze.

My pulse slows, and the serafyn’s slows along with it.

This is what it costs to fix something this broken. I finally understand.

The serafyn doesn’t answer, so I pour more and more of myself into the tree, desperate to heal this world. Heartbeat by heartbeat, a little more of my soul is lost. A fraction of the world is restored.

A faint blue shimmer catches my attention, as if emanating from the center of the Welwig. There is a blast of raw power, the sound of a foghorn, then four shapes materialize midair, held aloft by the ancient magic of the Welwig.

It only takes me a second to recognize them, but it feels like the moment stretches on for an eternity.

Rhune. Nyx. Dravik. Cin.

They’re there. They’re really, truly there. The Welwig brought them back. But how? Why?

I don’t have the strength or time to figure it out. Instead, I watch silently as their bodies drop out of the open air, their limp forms plummeting down toward the frozen ground.

I scream, but no sound exits my throat. Instead, a blast of power fills the cavern—not mine, but the serafyn’s—and that power cradles my mates’ bodies, lowering them gently to the ice.

My wings give out along with the remnants of my power, and I drop out of the sky, slamming into the ice beside my four mates hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. There should be pain, but I don’t feel it. All I know is relief.

Rhune's chest rises and falls, slow and even, and Nyx's fingers twitch faintly against the frost beside him. Dravik's expression is relaxed in that rare way that only happens when he’s in a deep sleep. And Cin…

Amazingly, the lower half of Cin's face has been restored. The awful metal mask is gone, but there is no longer exposed bone or muscle. Just smooth, unbroken skin.