The onslaught ended, and I looked up toward Ryland, hoping to see his blue eyes staring back at me. Instead, I saw a table. The table I had thrown at him was coming back to me at full speed. My mind went blank as I watched it barrel toward me, its four legs spinning in my direction. I wrapped myself into a ball just a moment before it hit. The legs had sunk deep into the wall around me, the tabletop stopping right before it came in contact with my body, pinning me in place instead of crushing me.
Ryland took the last few steps toward me, stopping right in front of me. I shrank away from his acidic gaze, terrified to find that there really was nowhere for me to go.
He reached down to cup my face, his hand cold and unfamiliar against my skin.
“You know, if I could break you, I would keep you.” He smiled as he leaned down, his eyes level with mine. “My own pretty, little pet.”
He dragged his icy fingers against my lower lip, the weight of his touch pushing my lip roughly to the side. I couldn’t rip my focus from him. His face looked the same, but he wasn’t Ryland anymore. He wasn’t the boy I had grown up with, the one I loved so deeply. My heart whipped back and forth as I fought my feelings. I had to get out of here before the monster in front of me did something that Ryland would regret. I knew I needed to fight—actually fight him. I just hoped that I wouldn’t hurt him.
I placed my hands against the table that entrapped me, surging my magic aggressively into it, hoping that it would have the desired effect. While, not the explosion I had hoped for, the table did fly away from me, taking Ryland with it. He flew helplessly through the air, only to land twenty feet away, the heavy table landing on top of him.
ThirtyTwo
I jumped up, desperate to escape from the monster that had possessed Ryland’s body. I ran only a few steps, my body preparing to launch into the air before a dead weight hit against my back, pushing me back down onto the floor. I tried to fight it, but couldn’t budge against the power that held me in place. I looked toward where Ryland had landed; fear now gripping me as I saw him approaching, his hand rising to aim in my direction.
An energy stream of blue waves shot over me, ramming into Ryland’s chest and stopping his progress. He only sneered at its sudden appearance, as if the powerful magic was no match for him. The magical barrier lifted off me and I rolled onto my knees, surprised to see Ovailia standing with her hands extended before her. My mouth dropped in shock at her perfectly poised figure, her cold-set eyes. She didn’t even acknowledge my existence; she simply stepped over me as she approached Ryland.
I didn’t dare look back before turning to run. The ground around me exploded and shook. I bobbed around, desperately attempting to avoid the fights and explosions around me before jumping into the sky. I sped through the air up onto the balcony that encircled the large room. I landed swiftly and continued moving, looking for a doorway or an alcove where I could hide.
The balcony below my feet shook, and I dropped to the floor, terrified it was about to collapse. It continued to shake as I lay still against the dust-covered carpet. I cautiously moved myself toward the edge to look below me. The floor of the ballroom was chaos. Colored explosions shook the air as unguided objects flew around and collided. Tracks of color and power flew from hands as the two sides fought relentlessly against each other.
Snakes of red surged from one Trpaslík, only to collide with one of our group whose name I couldn’t remember. The red tendrils wrapped around her as she was slammed aggressively into the floor, her screams only barely audible over the sound of battle. I scanned the crowd, looking for anyone I knew. Ovailia was running, her direction taking her right out the door in pursuit of someone. I kept looking, happy to find Wyn still alive, battling back-to-back with Talon against her own brother. I reluctantly looked away from her in an attempt to find the person who was responsible for this whole charade, but Edmund had vanished.
Ryland was walking determinedly toward Ilyan who had caught sight of him, but was still engaged in another fight. I watched as Ilyan dashed from one place to another, lightning shooting toward the small Trpaslík he was dutifully fighting. The Trpaslík was no match for Ilyan, who swiped his hand before him and sent his enemy flying right into a group of trapped teenagers who had taken refuge under the stairs.
Ilyan turned and faced his brother, his hands moving roughly to either side, sending every bit of rubble that lay uselessly on the floor up into the air and toward Ryland’s advancing form. Ryland yelled and called out in pain as he was pelted by the array of ammo, the force of the attack causing him to slide away against the floor. Ilyan did not wait for him to recover; his hands moved again, producing what could only be explained as a chain of magical energy.