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Mira threw a shield around her and Dawson while he pulled her along. Dark spells cracked against her shield, shattering it in several places, and when it broke entirely, Dawson sent spells flying at the assassins behind them.

She created another shield around them, and when they turned a corner, Dawson’s speed increased and his hand on her didn’t let go. She kicked off her high heels and ran as fast as she could, still barely able to keep up with him.

The impact of the next spell against her shield reverberated through her, rattling her jaw. Without waiting for it to fully crumble, she renewed their shield. Dawson’s powers exploded over his shoulder as he sent a spell. She didn’t dare turn around as they raced down the narrow alleyways, but she could tell the assassins were catching up with them.

Spells flew through the air at rapid speed. Windows burst. Streetlights fell over. But Dawson kept pulling her along with determination.

When they took another corner, his spell exploded the door of a building and they raced up a windy flight of stairs. They climbed to the second floor when she saw the Wielders in black suits swarm the building like cockroaches. There were more of them now than there had been before. Too many.

Dawson held up his right hand, and a window next to them shattered. Without warning, he pulled her through and they landed on the roof of another building. They sprinted across its uneven tiles, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Her lungs burned.

Mid-run, another powerful spell cleaved her shield in two and hit Dawson’s shoulder. The impact of the spell made her tumble, her foot slipping on the tiles, and before she knew what was happening, they were falling. A river was right below them, and she cast a weaving spell, creating a safety net to cushion their fall in case the river wasn’t very deep.

Even then, the moment they landed knocked the air out of her and water shot up her nose. Dawson was next to her. Bubbles obscured her vision of him, but she could see his silver eyes focused on her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the surface. Just then she realized how light the jacket felt. The relic was slowly sinking.

She let go of his hand and swam down as quickly as she could, following the sparkle of the glass case. But it sank faster than she was able to swim, and Dawson tried to grab her arm and pull her back up. Thinking fast, she used a white spell to bring the relic back to her. Slowly, it moved through the water until it was securely in her hands. She stuffed it back into her pocket.

When she turned, Dawson was gone. Not in the water. Not waiting for her. Just gone.

She broke through the water’s surface and immediately heard screams and spells shooting through the air. On the shore, Dawson used the body of a dead man as a shield as he fought four others. And behind them were about twenty more Wielders in dark uniforms.

Before she could think of what to do next, a magic rope snapped around her and she was catapulted through the air until she landed in the hands of one of the Wielders.

Dawson froze.

“Look at what I found,” the Wielder said, a hand with dark shadows pointed at her throat. “Be a good boy, Dawson, and hand over the relic.”

“I’m sure we can handle this like gentlemen,” Dawson said with a grin. How was he able to still be so smug? “For the right price, I can be persuaded—”

“Money isn’t everything,” the man interrupted him. “Time you learned that the hard way.”

“Didn’t know you’d be doing the dirty bidding of the council, Salinger,” Dawson said.

“Hand me the relic or I’ll make her scream. In more ways than one.”

Dawson turned ashen with rage. His face transformed into something almost inhuman. A cold mask. Eyes set hard.

“You’re giving her a little too much importance,” Dawson said with that effortless cool he so often deployed, but Mira knew him too well to believe it. She could see the ticking time bomb he had become.

“Is that so?” Salinger chuckled. “I guess you wouldn’t mind then if I gave her a test ride?” His hands gripped her tighter.

There was always a danger in Dawson’s eyes, but now they filled with flames.

You’re useless. You can’t even fight back, a voice in her mind hissed, and her scar burned, reminding her she was a failure. When Synth had marred her, she had been powerless.

But she wasn’t the same person anymore. That was the Mira from before the war.

She felt for the relic in her pocket and cast a white spell, breaking the glass case.

“Last chance,” Salinger said.

“Take one more step, Salinger,” Dawson seethed, his hand outstretched. “I fucking dare you.”

She didn’t know how to use the Relic of Death. Especially because she was an inexperienced Wielder. She slipped her hand through the bracelet, which was several sizes too big.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the strands of her power within her. She took a hold of a strand of Dark Magic in her mind and it danced away from her. Come on, she thought to herself. Focus. The next strand of dark power she took firmly.

You’re my power. Obey me.