by Ashley Meira
I ripped off one of my gloves and pressed my fingers against her neck. “Thank god.”
A pulse. Weak, but steady. It was both a good and bad sign. She was alive, but she wouldn’t be able to get off this mountain on her own.
“Damn it.” I pressed my back against the rock behind me and straightened my damaged leg. “Urgh, gross.”
It wasn’t a pretty sight. What used to be a pair of plain jeans and thermal underwear was now little more than shredded cloth and gore. Black chunks of blood-coated rocks were stuck in the gaping wound. I wasn’t sure which to be more concerned about: the risk of infection or the fact that the injury was still bleeding.
I traced my path backwards, noting the dark crimson trail I’d left behind. The bleeding. Definitely.
The trail was thinner the closer it got to me, and the wound itself was no longer hemorrhaging so much as spurting out at odd intervals. Maybe the black spots in my vision weren’t from all the lightning.
I gave Diana one more hard shake before deciding to conserve my energy. She wasn’t waking up, and I had a leg to treat.
A rush of cold air assaulted my chest as I opened my jacket, making it even harder to breathe. Diana’s heat helped, but it still took a great deal of effort to curl my finger and summon my sword.
It took some effort to pull my sweater out from my jeans but I managed to get part of it free. A sharp gasp escaped me as cold air rushed up my shirt. So much for thermal underwear. It felt like I’d jumped into a tub of ice completely naked. Still, with the way my hands were shaking, I was going to hold my sword as far from me as possible.
It was hard keeping a grip on both my sweater and sword as I cut through the outstretched fabric, but I reminded myself that there was literally a battle royal going on above me, and bitching about the cold made me seem petty. A burst of adrenaline hit me as the lower left section of my sweater tore away, and I was able to close my jacket with enough dexterity to make a master thief proud.
Tying the cloth around the hole in my leg required a level of bending I couldn’t achieve with such stiff joints, however, and I leaned back with a raspy growl. “Fucking damn it. Could just one thing go right?!”
“Sophia!” Hurried footsteps heralded Fiona’s arrival. She knelt before me, the color draining from her face when she laid eyes on my leg. “That—”
I held up the ripped piece of my sweater. “Needs a tourniquet. And pressure. And….” I panted and closed my eyes. “Something. Charybdis?”
I felt her take the cloth from my hand — and really felt it when she pressed it against my gaping wound. I knew she was helping, but I’d never wanted to punch her more in my life.
“Still kneeling. Or praying? I have no idea. They’re not attacking, and I’m not looking that in the mouth. She absorbed a few more, though, and— Shit. Need more.”
I felt a heavier pressure on my leg and pried one eye open to see Fiona’s knee pressing against the now bright red cloth over my leg. She opened her jacket and began tearing pieces of her sweater off, too. Never thought I’d be jealous of her having the strength to do that.
“Not that this really is a gift,” she continued after buttoning back up. The pressure from her knee remained, but I didn’t bother questioning her. Fiona knew what to do. I trusted her enough not to look. Besides, I was too exhausted. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any more. “I’d rather be fighting the charybdis than that thing. You’d think someone would have mentioned that she could turn into a freakin’ dragon. Even if it was just a rumor — all that babbling Symeon does and this is what he leaves out. I’m clocking him if we make it back. When we make it back. Damn it! I mean, really, what the hell are we supposed to do though? I can’t fly up that high to help! I mean, I can, but my regular size would be too heavy for the magic currents to keep me up. I’d have to shrink down. She’d swat me like a fly if I did that. A tiny—”
“You’re rambling,” I forced out. It served well as a distraction, and it’d make her feel better, but the breathlessness of her voice meant she was having as much trouble breathing as I was. “Save air.”
“You save air.” She wrapped the tourniquet around my leg and pulled harder than was necessary. Then again, considering how much I’d bled, I wasn’t sure that was possible. “You’re the one bleeding to death. Sophia? Sophia, wake up!”
An icy hand gripped my cheek. I batted it away with barely enough strength to make a fly wince. “I’m tougher than that.”
She shot me a skeptical yet hopeful look. “Just keep your damn eyes open while I deal with the charybdis.”
My heart rate had slowed to a sleepy beat as I allowed Fiona to tend to me, but her words jumpstarted the organ back into hyperdrive. I sat up straight, fear-driven adrenaline numbing the pain. “Are you insane?”
“She can’t absorb any more of them,” Fiona said, her calm tone betrayed by the quiver in her words. “She’s already too much for Adam and Damien. Any more and she’ll take them out. Hell, if she absorbed all the charybdis, she could probably finish her spell immediately. That’s why they’re here, I think. Not as guards, but as a backup power source.”
“What the hell do you mean too much?” I asked. “Adam and Damien are doing fine.”
“They were.” Fiona glanced up at the sky. “Before she absorbed those extra charybdis.”
I followed her sightline to the carnage above. The wounds Adam had inflicted were no longer visible against Seraphine’s porcelain scales. Instead, it was Damien’s iridescent hide that was splattered in crimson. Deep, jagged cuts covered his flank, and his wings were flapping at a slowed rate.
Some gashes were closing up, likely from Adam’s healing magic. But where was Adam? I scanned the sky for a hint of fire but found nothing apart from bolts of lightning and ice spears as Damien and Seraphine circled around each other hurling spells.
Suddenly, Seraphine whipped around and fired off a beam of ice toward the mountain. It cleaved straight through the upper part of the wall, drawing a screech from the rock. Flames gleamed from behind the dust and rubble. Adam scrambled away from his cover, his movements erratic and tired.
My heart plummeted to my stomach as I noticed his body was dimmer than before. The once magnificent flames were barely more radiant than a campfire. Seraphine was the Ocean Queen, a creature of water and ice, wind and lightning — of course she’d have the upper hand on him.
It should have been obvious, but it was Adam. My Adam. My rock, who was smart and strong and powerful. Nothing was supposed to be able to defeat him.
Now, he was struggling to keep himself in the air.
I let out a cry as Seraphine lunged for him. Damien swooped ahead, taking the blow himself. Seraphine’s fangs dug into his neck. She ripped her head back, taking a chunk of flesh with her as Damien’s blood rained down up on us.
Adam let out a shriek and retreated, his brother following closely behind. They soon split, however, as Seraphine came back for another attack. Adam barely dodged her ice beam while she gracefully glided out of the way of Damien’s lightning bolt.
She wasn’t stupid. Seraphine knew Adam was the weaker in this fight, and she’d take him out before dealing with Damien. Adam wouldn’t be able to avoid her attacks for long. She’d land a hit eventually and the injury would slow him further. Then one hit would turn into two, then three, until she finished him off.
There wasn’t much Damien could do, either. Playing interference wouldn’t work for long. He’d end up too injured from taking hits meant for Adam, or he’d tire himself out keeping Seraphine away from him. She was too spry for him to engage directly, not with his brother so at risk.
He needed a third person, someone to either keep the heat off Adam or lay the pressure on Seraphine. But how the hell could I do that? I couldn’t even stand, and Fiona was right about flying—
“Fiona?” I stared at the empty space my sister had been occupying, then searched the battlefield for a flash of red. “Oh fuck.”
She’d run back to
the charybdis, intent on following through with her insane, stupid, suicidal plan. Yes, they needed to be stopped, but this wasn’t the way! Besides who knew if killing them meant their essence wouldn’t go to Seraphine anyway?
None of that seemed to matter to Fiona, who was quick enough to behead three charybdis before they began rising from their torpor. The first row of foot soldiers picked up their spears and began fighting once more, but the ones behind them remained kneeling.
I lurched forward, almost able to ignore the blistering pain shooting through my leg. But not for long. I hit the ground as soon as I rose halfway up, my temple slamming into my knuckle as I brought my hands up to shield my fall. I pushed my upper body up, searching for Fiona again.
She was still alive, but she’d only taken out one of the five attacking charybdis — and there were still over two dozen behind them, waiting to fill in the ranks. Eyes trained on her, I reached back and grabbed Diana’s shoulder.
“Wake up, damn it!” I shook her, my attention shifting between my sister and the struggling brothers above. “Diana, please, I need you to help them! At least give me your magic or something so I won’t be fucking useless!”
I released her shoulder to punch at the ground. The pain shot through me, fueling my anger. I was useless. All the things I said to psych myself up, all the things Adam and Fiona had told me, they were all lies. Sure, I could use a sword, but what good was that against a fucking dragon? What good was it when I couldn’t even stand?
“Damn it!” I howled, mentally clawing myself inside out.
I couldn’t find it. My father was wrong. There was no damn Fire inside me anymore. It wasn’t there. It would have shown up by now if it was. We’d rarely seen eye to eye, but it was supposed to protect me! It was supposed to be there! But it wasn’t. No matter how hard I dug, I couldn’t find it.
Hell, I’d literally rip myself in half if it meant getting some magic out. Something, anything. I had to find a way to help.
The sharp clang of metal hitting rock pulled me to Fiona. My blood turned to ice, colder than the frost surrounding us. She’d been disarmed, her fairy blade laying impotently behind a crowd of charybdis. She spared the weapon a glance before firing off Fairy Bolt after Fairy Bolt at her attackers.
The charybdis’ hides proved too strong for her magic to do more than stagger them momentarily, and the lack of a blade meant she wouldn’t be able to finish them off. Maybe a few, but she’d be drained before long.
“Fiona!” I called. “Take my sword!”
If she heard me, she gave no indication as she ducked under a spear thrust and kicked the legs out from under her attacker. Two more went for her, their attacks missing by the narrowest of margins.
“Fiona!” I could do little more than inch my torso toward her. “Hurry!”
Face set in a scowl, she kicked the charybdis closest to her in the chest and ran for me. A spear glanced her thigh, the injury minor but stinging enough to slow her pace by the tiniest of margins. That was all the charybdis needed to grab her arm and fling her against the nearest wall.
Blood followed her body as she slid down. It was seconds before she was on her feet again, one hand on her head to feel out the damage. She must not have thought it serious, because she charged right back into the fray.
Her weakened state had drawn the charybdis’ attention, and her blood had them incensed. It was possible Seraphine had relayed a mental order, too, but I wasn’t sure how much attention she was paying to us. Regardless, the second row of kneeling charybdis began to rise and grab their spears.
My muscles protested at the movements, but I pulled myself toward her by another inch. Only about a hundred more and I’d reach her. Despair froze me as much as my own traitorous body.
She wouldn’t stand a chance against all those monsters.
Before I could muster up the strength to keep going, Fiona’s fiery red hair was lost in a sea of blue scales and hideous teeth.
“Fiona!” I screamed, trying to find her in the mass of charybdis that had swarmed her last position. “Fio—”
A deafening shriek rang out, so pained it sounded like a death knell. I looked up so quickly I thought my neck would snap. A ball of fire floated in the air, growing smaller by the second until there was nothing left but Adam’s body.
My howl broke halfway this time as I watched him plummet, rocks tearing at my flesh as I tried to crawl toward him. Damien rushed forward to catch his brother, but a gust of wind blocked his path as Seraphine turned her attention to her final opponent.
I pressed my good foot against the ground and shot up. My vision went white from the blazing pain, and I managed to stumble a few steps before hitting the ground again.
“ADAM!”
I could barely make out his falling body through my clouded vision, but I heard the loud crash that signaled his landing. Any other sounds were washed away by my bawling.
The tears came like a flood. I couldn’t remember ever crying so hard, ever feeling so hurt and raw. It was like my skin had been flayed off, exposing the raw nerves underneath to the harsh winds. Everything was sheer agony. The mental weight of his loss, the physical pain of trying to move, of bawling so hard my jaw cracked. I felt burned to the core, grief so overwhelming it was drowning me.
But not in water. It was like lava had seeped into my veins, filling my lungs and searing my very soul. Even my eyes burned, the pain so much more intense than what my crying had wrought.
I was burning, and I didn’t care.
How could I? I didn’t care about me. I cared about them. About Fiona, the sister I’d sworn to protect. About Adam, the man I loved with all my heart. About Diana, who’d nearly sacrificed herself to destroy the barrier. About Adrienne, Symeon, and Ollie, who were waiting for us back home. Hell, even Damien, the only one of us still fighting this damned battle. I couldn’t even imagine how he felt seeing his brother falling and being helpless to save him—
No, I could imagine it, and it made the fire burning me up from the inside that much hotter.
I screamed. From the pain — physical and mental; from the loss; from fear of what would happen; from this damned hollowness deep in my gut that was welling up with a blaze that threatened to devour me.
The fire burned brighter, hotter, so intense I expected my bones to turn black. There was something almost comforting in that, I realized through the agony. Something comforting in the pain, the idea of total oblivion — of no more pain and suffering.
Of seeing Fiona and Adam again.
The flames inside me rushed around, testing my limits, trying to break free.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and let it consume me.
Chapter Twenty-One
I wasn’t dead.
That was the first thought that hit me when the burning faded away and left me in the dark. I say faded because it was still there, a thick heat coiled in my gut, wrathful and… proud? A proud fire?
A spark of realization illuminated the darkness.
A proud Fire. My Fire, burning bright within me.
The joy vanished as quickly as it came. My Fire was back, but nothing had changed. Adam and Fiona were still….
I could do it again. Sacrifice my magic to save them. But I could only save one, and I needed my magic to defeat Seraphine.
I’d given my magic away to save a life and lost two getting it back. Was that it, then? Victory through sacrifice? I always knew it was a possibility, but I never expected anyone would die but me.
“It’s easier to die than survive.”
I tried to look around for the source of the voice, but there was only a spark in this darkness, barely visible in the distance. I walked toward it anyway, desperate to find an answer.
“Who are you?” The words were clear in my head, but there was only silence when I spoke. “Where are you? Where am I?”
There was no answer, but I didn’t expect one. I knew who had spoken. At least, I thought I did. I recognized the voice, I’d
heard it a million times before.
It was mine.
“Are you my Fire?” I asked, silent words falling from my lips again. “Are you the one in my head that tells me what to do?”
It was a scary thought that my actions up until now hadn’t been entirely my own. I assumed everyone had a voice in their head — their own voice that echoed their thoughts. Could it have been my Fire all this time?
The spark was growing larger with each step I took. I faltered when I realized my leg didn’t hurt anymore. It was too dark; I couldn’t see anything when I looked down, only pitch black and the spark ahead. I continued on, waiting for the voice.
My gut told me there was no such thing. That my Fire couldn’t speak, that I had been the master of my destiny all this time. I wanted to believe it. But after everything I just witnessed, I had no idea what to believe.
“Open your eyes!”
I knew that tone. I’d heard it every time I fell, every time I thought about giving up. I was too damn stubborn to let myself stay down. I always got back up.
Except this time.
I’d fallen, weighed down by the loss of my sister and lover.
And I refused to rise.
So, why was I still yelling?
The spark was the size of my head now. A flame, I realized, as I continued my approach. Bright and proud and wrathful — just like my Fire.
I stopped, unseen hand outstretched. Was it my Fire? It was so angry. I was so angry. At Seraphine for what she did, and at myself for letting it break me.
“Not broken.”
“Aren’t I? They’re gone.”
“You’re not.”
I glared at the Fire before me. Any other time, such a light would blind me. But here we were equals. “I hate arguing with myself.”
“Because, for all your excuses, you know better.”
Damn it. Stampeding unicorns? A pain, and I’d bitch the entire time I wrangled them to the ground. Symeon? A thorn in my ass but damned it I was going to let some assassins take him out. It was the same old line. I could complain all I wanted, but I knew what had to be done.
