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Craftsmen collapse to their knees even as they try to flee. Trees twist, whether from the musical assault or to continue the supernatural attack, I can’t tell.
Dread sours my stomach as I meet Sterling’s eyes and see my own anxious question reflected back at me.
What now?
Chapter Eight
Too damn many. We’ve experienced too damn many attacks and bizarre occurrences in a short span of time. And we still have no clue what’s causing all this.
Leaves fall and spin as if there’s a vortex around each tree. My stomach dips.
I grew up watching my mother use air magic, so I know how lethal it can be.
My fingers prickle as I summon my own element.
The stone cherubs writhe and twist on their pedestals. Their once-benign faces split into grins that reveal those fucked-up rows of sharp diamond teeth.
Beside me, Lark shifts her weight in a subtle movement that I’ve learned to read better than any battle map. I can sense her fire gathering, prickling my skin with more than just magic. Standing here, confronting an opponent we know nothing about, I should feel a lot more worried.
It’s my faith in her that keeps me grounded.
Every single time. Every fight.
The woman who survived kidnapping, war, and betrayal never fails to steal my breath when she prepares for a fight. Wrapped in shadow and flame, she’s magnificent. The fire enhances the glimmering golden hues in her eyes and also her wings as they expand behind her.
Scattered across the courtyard, nobles and servants alike freeze in horror.
“Your Majesty, get back!” A guard rushes forward, sword drawn.
Useless. Steel won’t help against animated stone.
The cherubs stretch to their full height. Crystals form beneath them on the tiers.
Leaves continue to spiral and lash out in all directions.
The courtyard dissolves into chaos.
Servants disperse like startled birds, their clothing flapping as they flee. Guards curb their fear to form a perimeter. The wedding planner stands paralyzed, mouth agape.
“Sterling?” Lark’s voice is calm, measured. “You ready?”
I lurch forward, calling forth the water from the fountain. The fluid spirals around us, forming a translucent shield that distorts the world beyond like warped glass. “Already on it.”
Lark doesn’t hesitate.
She summons her fire, sending it into my water shield. The elements don’t fight. They meld together in a heady rush. Fire dances over the water without extinguishing, and water encloses fire without evaporating. The combined magic hurls fractals of light across the courtyard. The brilliant patterns shimmer and pulse with our shared power.
The cherubs freeze before slowly pivoting their heads to aim their diamond-laced grins at the light show.
Stone heads tilt in unison, as if listening to music only they can hear.
“What the hells are they doing?” I mutter.
“Being creepy as fuck.”
I grunt my agreement.
One of the stonemasons hired to create the monstrosities releases a scream that curdles my blood.
