“I’m sorry it has come to an end such as this.” Pyra climbed to her feet. “I would have liked to have dallied with you a little more.”
“You don’t have to obey the voices,” I said, even as I admonished the wind for doing this to me.
Reach, she advised. You have the power.
If that were true, I wouldn’t currently be pinned to the wall. But I did as she bid and reached into the maelstrom, trying to get past it, trying to gain control, to get some help. The air quivered and twisted and fought, and the power of her confusion seemed to echo through the stone beneath my bare feet.
“Don’t do this, Pyra,” I said, desperate to buy time. Time for the wind to break her control, time for me to get free so that I could fight. Or even time for someone to hear all the noise and come to my aid. Because surely in a place such as this, someone had to be near.
Pyra smiled and reached for the knife—my knife, I noted somewhat ironically. “That’s not possible.”
“And yet Saska fights them.”
Something flickered in her eyes; something that was bitter, and not wholly human. “Saska will be brought to heel once you’re out of the way.”
“I have nothing to do with her resistance.”
The vibrations running under my feet were now so strong that the stone floor was beginning to heave and writhe. Quake. And yet how was that even possible? The only other time we’d experienced such an event was during the bitter final moments of the war, after the earth witches had drawn so much power from the surrounding land that it caused massive landslips on either side of Winterborne and plunged thousands to their deaths.
“You have everything to do with it.” Pyra’s voice was flat. “It was no coincidence you found her. She called you. She still calls you. You’re her strength and her touchstone.”
And she was mad. There was no other explanation for thoughts like that.
She walked toward me, her fingers white with the fierceness of her grip on my knife. But the air pinning me in place was also hampering her movements; it wasn’t stopping her, but it was at least slowing her, making her fight for every inch she gained.
When she realized this, she raised the knife and flung it. It flew straight, unhindered by the turbulent air, but she was no knife master and her aim was far from true. It hit the wall, drawing sparks from the stone as it dropped to the ground. It came to rest with its hilt across my right foot; almost immediately—and rather weirdly—the blade began to glow with a rich blue fire.
Pyra screeched and rushed at me. But the floor was now heaving with ever-increasing ferocity, and massive cracks appeared across the stones that lay between us, forcing her to slow. Yet for all that the air screamed, for all the noise the earth was now making, no help had arrived. There was no one to stop her, no one except the wind, and she could only help me so far against an air witch as strong as Pyra. My one chance was the earth—if it would only rise up and trap her….
The thought had barely crossed my mind when the huge slabs of rock punched up through the floor, one after the other, until Pyra was completely encased in a prison of stone.
The air pinning me suddenly swung around, attacking the stones in a useless attempt to draw Pyra from her prison. She screeched again, and the air became violent, flinging the furniture around the room, until it became a dangerous maelstrom of razor-sharp edges that could skewer flesh as easily as a knife.
None of it touched me. The wind, although she couldn’t entirely deny Pyra’s commands, was providing me with a small cocoon of safety.
I dropped to my knees, my head swimming and my whole body shuddering with the effort of simply breathing. For several minutes, I didn’t move; indeed, couldn’t have moved, even if my life had depended on it.
But help was coming. I could feel it in the tremor of the stone under my legs.
“Mother of mercy, what on earth is going on here?”
It was Trey, arriving to help, even if it was a little too late.
“Neve,” another said sharply, “control the wind.”
And of course he’d brought Kiro. Damn him. But the words didn’t leave my lips, because even though I hated the thought of him seeing me like this, I also understood Trey’s reason for bringing him here. There were dark deeds afoot in this place, and that was far more important than the fate of an unlit soldier who could hear the wind.
But I couldn’t obey his command. This wind wasn’t mine.
I hugged my body against the pain running through me, and fought the urge to weep. Tears wouldn’t help, but I had no idea what actually would. The sensitivity was back again, fiercer and sharper than before. Not only could I feel the presence of the two men in the thrum of their energy beating through the stone under my legs, but also Pyra’s fury, the cry of the wind, the demands of a voice that was both one and many, all of them foreign in tone….
I blinked. The voices that both Saska and Pyra had spoken about were real.
But why could I suddenly hear them?
“Neve,” Trey said, voice sharper, “control the wind.”
“Not,” I somehow ground out, “me.”
“Some of it is,” Kiro snapped, “otherwise you’d be dead.”
“No,” I denied, even though the truth was evident in the small bubble of air that protected me.
The stone began to rumble again. I forced my eyes open and saw that the prison containing Pyra was retreating back into the earth, revealing the fact she was pinned by two boots of stone.
“Release the air, Pyra.” Trey’s voice was flat but hinted at the fury I could feel via the stones. “Or those cuffs encasing your feet will spread to your entire body, and you’ll become little more than a pretty ornament in this place.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Her fists were clenched, her eyes wild, and her voice clear despite the roar of the wind. If she felt any trace of fear, it wasn’t evident. “It’d be considered an act of treason under the laws of this place.”
“Not if he has my blessing,” Kiro replied equably. “The Forum has given me full freedom to use whatever means necessary to uncover what’s going on, and you, my dear, are part of whatever it is.”
“And what of her?” Pyra flung an arm out, pointing at me. “She’s caused this mess. She tried to kill me; I was only defending myself.”
I licked my lips and somehow said, “He’s a reader, Pyra. He’ll uncover the truth of it soon enough.”
The violence within the alien whispering got sharper. Pyra shook her head, as if denying what they were saying. Fear flashed across her countenance, but it was more fear of those whispers than what Kiro might reveal.
“I am indeed a reader,” he said, “and it would be far easier on you if you willingly revealed whatever information you hold.”
I shifted slightly, trying to ease the ache in my leg. Something cold pressed harder against my shin. The knife… and as even as that realization went through me, the voices sharpened and became clear.
But they were only saying one word that was repeated over and over—kill, kill, kill.
“Pyra, no!” I screamed, even as I reached for the wind and tried to stop her. Pain unlike anything I’d ever felt before hit me, and the plea shriveled on my lips.
Leaving me to do nothing but watch as the wind swung around and all the deadly missiles that had been rotating within the room were suddenly aimed at the woman still pinned by the stone cuffs.
They shredded her. She didn’t even scream. She didn’t have the time. The wind died with her, and what missiles remained clattered heavily to the floor.
I closed my eyes and sent a silent prayer of thanks to the forces of earth and air. If they hadn’t, for whatever reason, helped me, the bloody mess of body parts staining the white floor would have been mine.
“That,” Kiro said eventually, his voice soft, “was not what I’d been expecting.”
“No.”