The fear from before slammed into my back in an uncomfortable agony. The worry I’d had over Joclyn moments ago evaporated in the boil of my blood, the heat of my magic. The need to run, to escape, to attack encompassed me.
I tried to fight it. I couldn’t leave Jos. She was my friend, and I knew what these sights did to her. I needed to help her.
I tried to convince myself of that, but the loyalty was wavering as she kept convulsing, as the words kept coming.
It was all I could do not to attack her.
“Wyn—” The word seeped out of her before she fell to the ground in a heap, her joints twisted in ways that made her look broken, like china that was trying to repair itself.
The panic subsided as I watched her, the worry taking over. Then she heaved, and then she screamed. And her head turned toward me with the same black eyes, even though I was convinced she could see me.
“Wyn,” she gasped, her voice twisted between normal and the hollow Drak tones. “You need to give me the blade. You don’t know what you’ve done.”
I looked at her, into the black of her eyes, into the fear that came right back to me.
“No!” The word was a snap of broken ice as it cut through me, every instinct I possessed begging me to rush my best friend, to kill her, to keep myself and my plan safe.
It was all I could do not to attack her.
It was all I could do not to run and leave her screaming after me.
“Wyn, please.” Her voice was normal now, but her eyes had not changed. They were the same dark depths of nothing staring at me as if they could see me, but more than just me, as if they could see my future, too.
Mommy!
I jumped at the terror in her voice, the tenor of it taking me right back to that day when Rosaline had lain on that table, Edmund hovering over her, Ovailia laughing in the background. And Sain … Sain chained in the corner, his eyes as black as hers.
His eyes as black as hers.
Just like that, something in me flipped, the switch moving so fast I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop the anger, the pain. I couldn’t stop from coming alive.
“Wyn,” Joclyn gasped, her voice broken and scared, so much like everyone else when they had begged for life, when they had begged for their end to come.
And so would she.
“No!” I screamed, the vile anger exploding out of me in a wave of aggression that made her flinch again, the warning met, though I knew she wouldn’t back down.
I could see it.
I knew it.
And if she wasn’t going to back down … I wasn’t going to give in.
Mommy! Please! Her voice shot through me as my magic did, the attack speeding through the air and right toward Joclyn to stop her, to end her.
Joclyn screamed as the light erupted, the blazing flash impacting against the stone as she moved, her body sliding over the floor so fast I was in no doubt she was possessed.
My heart tensed at the thought, part of me screaming in fear as it begged me to stop. But I couldn’t hear it anymore. I couldn’t think past the sound of Rosy’s voice, past her fear.
I needed to save her, and I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way.
I would stop her first.
Another attack, one right after another shot toward Joclyn, but again, she moved. Again, she shifted away right before the attack would have made contact.
I could see the pain on her face. I could see how much moving was costing her. She couldn’t outrun me forever. Besides, if she was just going to dodge, then I would have to anticipate that.
“Wyn!” she screamed as she tried to back up over the stone, her black eyes looking into me, digging into me. “You must give it to me … you can’t—”
“No!” I didn’t even let her finish; I attacked, expecting her movements.
This time, I hit her. This time, the magic hit against her leg, the denim jean burning away.
Closer.
I needed to get closer.
“You can’t have it!” I screamed as I attacked again, volley after volley flying toward her as she tried to move away.
She wasn’t fast enough. She never would be. I was more powerful than her. I had the fire magic, and now … Now she was going to feel it.
“You can’t have my daughter!”
Mommy? Save me!
One last powerful ribbon of fire and death streamed away from me and right into her, seeping into her gut, spreading through her, destroying her.
Mommy!
“You can’t have her!” I spat, ready to attack again, ready to end her, but then Rosaline’s voice filled me, her sobs shifting from that of fear to that of loss, the change in the sound cutting through me.
Mommy, she pleaded, the sound so clear that I was momentarily positive she was speaking directly to me. Mommy, don’t hurt her.
Shock filled me like warm water as I watched my friend writhe, watched my magic attempt to end her, watched her scream.
I knew I should do something. I knew I needed to. I had attacked her. I had hurt her.
I needed to get out of here. I needed to save my daughter. I needed to leave Ilyan in order to save her.
I turned, running away from my immobilized friend, away from whatever she had seen, away from what I had done like the coward I was deep down inside.