Kell couldn’t move.
Shadows wove around his limbs and held like stone, pinning him still. The more he fought, the tighter they coiled, leeching the last of his strength. Lila’s voice was far, far away and then gone, and Kell was left in a world filled with only darkness.
A darkness that was everywhere.
And then, somehow, it wasn’t. It drew itself together, coiling in front of him, coalescing until it was first a shadow and then a man. He was shaped like Kell, from his height and his hair to his coat, but every inch of him was the smooth and glossy black of the recovered stone.
“Hello, Kell,” said the darkness, the words not in English or Arnesian or Maktahn, but the native tongue of magic. And finally, Kell understood. This was Vitari. The thing that had been pulling at him, pushing to get in, making him stronger while weakening his will and feeding on his life.
“Where are we?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“We are in you,” said Vitari. “We are becoming you.”
Kell struggled uselessly against the dark ropes. “Get out of my body,” he growled.
Vitari smiled his shadowy black smile and took a step toward Kell.
“You’ve fought well,” he said. “But the time for fighting is over.” He closed the gap and brought a hand to Kell’s chest. “You were made for me, Antari,” he said. “A perfect vessel. I will wear your skin forever.”
Kell twisted under his touch. He had to fight. He’d come so far. He couldn’t give up now.
“It’s too late,” said Vitari. “I already have your heart.” At that, his fingertips pressed down, and Kell gasped as Vitari’s hand passed into his chest. He felt Vitari’s fingers close around his beating heart, felt it lurch, darkness spilling across his tattered shirtfront like blood.
“It’s over, Kell,” said the magic. “You’re mine.”
*
Kell’s body shuddered on the ground. Lila took his face in her hands. It was burning up. The veins on his throat and at his temple had darkened to black, and the strain showed in the lines of his jaw, but he wasn’t moving, wouldn’t open his eyes.
“Fight this!” she shouted as his body spasmed. “You’ve come all this way. You can’t just give up.”
His back arched against the ground, and Lila pushed open Kell’s shirt and saw black spreading over his heart.
“Dammit,” she swore, trying to pry the stone out of his hand. It wouldn’t budge.
“If you die,” she snapped, “what happens to Rhy?”
Kell’s back hit the ground, and he let out a labored breath.
Lila had recovered her weapons, and now she freed her knife, weighing it in her palm. She didn’t want to have to kill him. But she could. And she didn’t want to cut off his hand, but she certainly would.
A groan escaped between his lips.
“Don’t you fucking give up, Kell. Do you hear me?”
*
Kell’s heart stuttered, skipping a beat.
“I asked so nicely,” said Vitari, his hand still buried in Kell’s chest. “I gave you the chance to give in. You made me use force.”
Heat spread through Kell’s limbs, leaving a strange cold in its wake. He heard Lila’s voice. Far away and stretched so thin, the words, an echo of an echo, barely reached him. But he heard a name. Rhy.
If he died, so would Rhy. He couldn’t stop fighting.
“I’m not going to kill you, Kell. Not exactly.”
Kell squeezed his eyes shut, darkness folding over him.
“Isn’t there a word for this?” Lila’s voice echoed through his head. “What is it? Come on, Kell. Say the blasted word.”
Kell forced himself to focus. Of course. Lila was right. There was a word. Vitari was pure magic. And all magic was bound by rules. By order. Vitari was a creation, but everything that could be created could also be destroyed. Dispelled.
“As Anasae,” said Kell. He felt a glimmer of power. But nothing happened.
Vitari’s free hand closed around his throat.
“Did you really think that would work?” sneered the magic in Kell’s shape, but there was something in his voice and in the way he tensed. Fear. It could work. It would work. It had to.
But Antari magic was a verbal pact. He’d never been able to summon it with thought alone, and here, in his head, everything was thought. Kell had to say the word. He focused, reaching with his fading senses until he could feel his body, not as it was here in this illusion, this mental plane, but as it was in truth, stretched on the bitterly cold ground of the broken courtyard, Lila crouching over it. Over him. He clung to that chill, focusing on the way it pressed into his back. He struggled to feel his fingers, wrapped around the stone so hard that they ached. He focused on his mouth, clenched shut in pain, and forced it to unlock. Forced his lips to part.
To form the words. “As An—”
His heart faltered as Vitari’s fingers tightened around it.