‘Please do,’ she said, unfazed by our interaction.
Onyx pulled the arrow out, causing another bout of agonising pain. I bit down hard but couldn’t stop the cry that fell from my lips. Exiles all around laughed.
‘As tempting as your offer is,’ Onyx began, ‘I find myself with a humanly debt to repay another. Until then, as your oaths bind you, so mine binds me.’
I was glad then that I was already crying. I didn’t want them to see my tears were now for Onyx. He had become a better human than most.
Lilith’s rage at Onyx showed, but she wasn’t about to let his denial derail her. The show would go on. She ordered him out of her sight to wait outside.
‘Phoenix!’ she snapped.
He nodded once, turned back to the golden table and loaded the next arrow.
I screamed when it hit my stomach.
He reloaded.
I tried to breathe and prepare myself. The desire to shut my eyes tight and close myself off from the world – to take myself to that other place – was intense. But I didn’t. I kept my eyes open. I wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
The arrows continued to fly – my legs, my arms – Phoenix aiming as carefully as possible, trying to cause the least damage. They hurt more and less at the same time, as new arrows didn’t increase the pain that was already so extreme. But they were starting to wear me down.
I focused all of my energy on healing, on regenerating and keeping as much blood as possible inside my body.
I kept count of the arrows, each one reminding me of another life – another child that would live to destroy these exiles one day. By the twentieth, I was starting to tremble. I was weakening way too soon. I needed to keep going.
I felt Lincoln’s power pressing at me.
I closed my eyes briefly. I wanted to keep him strong but I was unable to resist his help any longer. I opened the channel and his power flooded into me, rejuvenating my own power like a breath of fresh air. My healing kicked up a notch, the wounds closing around the arrows. Some of the arrows were even pushed out altogether, clattering to the ground as my body repaired itself.
Phoenix ignored all of this. He simply reloaded. And fired.
By the thirty-fifth strike, the world was spinning. I’d developed a cold sweat that felt like my life pouring out from me. I could hear my heart beating, too slow.
Phoenix fired again.
I healed myself.
This time, I felt Phoenix sending me his emotion. Solid determination. I could feel his undiluted belief in me and in my power. So much so, I sensed his belief that I would survive. It made me sad that he could think that, when I knew otherwise.
He also took emotion from me, like lifting weights from my shoulders, one brick at a time. First, he relieved me of despair, then sorrow, then the well-buried fear. He found them and absorbed what he could.
By the fortieth arrow, Lilith was on her feet. The exile spectators had started hollering. Lilith came right up to me, yanking a few of the arrows from my body, twisting them as she pulled them away. I cried out. She smiled.
‘You are just mortal. You think you have purpose? You do not. You think you are powerful? You are not. Are you watching, Evelyn? Are you proud?’
Evelyn struggled under the hold of the exiles restraining her. ‘Look at her, Lilith. Take a long hard look at the mere mortal who is going to destroy you for good.’ Evelyn spat out the words.
Lilith’s composure slipped and she spun to Phoenix. ‘Speed things up!’
He nodded and loaded another arrow.
‘Not that way!’ she snapped. ‘Bring forward her wounds.’
I struggled feebly against the restraints.
Oh God. I can’t. This is it.
Lincoln’s strength flowed into me, holding me together. Blood now covered my body and poured from my mouth and nose.
Phoenix moved a step closer to me, his eyes closing briefly. I could feel his sadness and regret at what he must do.
I looked up at him and ground out, ‘Do it!’
And he did.
Onyx’s first shocking wound to me, after I’d embraced – the sword in my back that went right through me – returned. Phoenix did his best to minimise the pain, but he couldn’t do much in the face of such a horrific wound. Blood poured from me as I watched him – my vision blurring again – reload the bow, and aim.
Fire.
Fire.
Fire.
Fire.
I choked on blood. I suffocated in Lincoln’s power, pouring – no, hammering – into me. I couldn’t imagine how he had anything left to send, but it kept coming. So I took it, and I used it. My body convulsed against conflicting urges; my human body wanting to give up, my soul demanding me to go on, and my angelic ability forcing my warrior to fight.
I thought of Tom, singing with his divine voice. I thought of Simon, the warrior he would become. If this was my purpose in life – if this was why I had been created, made Grigori, given this power … If this was why I was Lincoln’s soulmate – to survive these arrows – I could live with that. Or die with it.