I saw the blades fly through the air, saw them pierce the fighters who had been holding them moments before. I watched them topple one by one, thanking their chosen god with their final breath.
It was only then that I sawher, rising from her knees, surrounded by bodies, looking like an avenging goddess. Magic throbbed around Ana like a magnificent halo, potent and intoxicating. Her eyes were bright with an ethereal fire, and even though I never imagined she held a power like this, I have no doubt it’s what flung the blades across the tunnel to impale our enemies.
One of the cleavers still stands, beginning to intone something righteous. I cut his throat, barely taking my eyes off Ana.
Witnessing any celestial power in person is rare enough, but I’d seen the bright golden light conjured by a solari before, the same pure burst of sunshine she produced in the forest, if not quite as strong. I’ve heard about other celestial abilities—recorded by scholars—but no one living’s seen them in action.
Orbital conjuring. That’s what she just did. She pulled those objects into her orbit like the stars and planets do, and then she released them with terrifying precision.
“Ana, are you alright?” I ask. She still doesn’t look quite of this world even as the last waves of power fade around her.
“I’ve never done that before,” she murmurs, and her eyes struggle to find mine.
She sways on her feet, and I leap forward across the dead cleavers to catch her before she falls. Panic flares as I examine her for visible injuries. Outwardly, she’s fine, but she’sdrained,as if she used up not just her body’s current supply of magic but all her strength and energy as well. Ana’s eyelids flutter closed as her weight settles into my arms.
I look over to Alastor, trying to understand. “Using her magic seems to have exhausted her, but how can that be?”
“Maybe it’s because she’s so powerful,” he suggests. “If she’s a celestial twin-blessed, then overusing her magic must push her body beyond her limits.”
I look down at her, noting her pale skin and shallow breathing.
What if it’s pushed her too far? What if she doesn’t survive this?
The same determination that gripped me during her fever finds me now. The world seems as determined as ever to kill the people around me, but that doesn’t mean it gets to have them. I won’t allow it.
I weigh our options. We’re too far away from any city or town to find a healer, even a half-rate human one. But the folk remedy for replenishing magic is to park yourself near the natural source of your magic. Aquari find themselves restored by water, incendi by an open flame, and solari…
“Sunlight. She needs the sun,” I say to Alastor. “We’re too far from the sky down here.”
I straighten, cradling her in my arms as I consider the tunnels around us.
“There.” Alastor points to a marker on the wall, one our spy friends left all those decades ago. “Two rights and we’ll be back in the main passage.”
“I remember the way from there,” I say. “I’ll meet you with the unit.”
We’llmeet him with the unit. Because I’m not planning on coming back down this mountain without a living, breathing princess.
Each minute I’m stuck in the tunnels is excruciating. But I’m a stubborn bastard, and the dark, claustrophobic passageways of the mountain won’t get the best of me. At a sprint, the rest of the tunnel takes about twenty minutes to clear. Then I’m greeted by grass and daylight as I squeeze us between the rocks that hide the tunnel’s entrance on the southern side.
I breathe easier out in the open air, but I know better than to expect a change in Ana yet. The peaks cast long shadows at this level—the nearest patch of direct sunlight I can see is on a plateau about two miles up the mountain.
I start climbing.
Ana feels cool against my skin, blue veins visible in her limp neck. I pull her closer, hoping my body warmth will help, breathing in her jasmine scent and praying.
Her body might be struggling, but her spirit is strong, I know it.
I reach the plateau, laying her out on a flat, mossy stone where the sun’s light can reach her. The wind makes it chilly up here, so I kneel down beside the stone to shield her, gently lifting her head toward the sun’s rays. I think I see some color creep across her cheeks, but her breathing’s still shallow.
“I’ll be royally pissed off, princess, if I dragged you halfway across the country just for you to die on me now,” I grunt.
The sunlight illuminates her face, giving it a golden glow, catching the red in her chestnut hair.
I frown, looking closer.
The glow of her skin brightens until she’s practically ablaze with it. It’s not coming from the sun, at least, not directly—it emanates from within. It expands, enveloping her until she looks as she did in the forest: alight with power.
Her eyelids move, cracking open to squint against the glare.
