This time, the men do not stir. They lie broken and motionless on the sunbaked earth.
Emerin trembles as she stands and stares at me, her face full of horror—horror I induced. She takes a step back, as if trying to distance herself from the destruction I’ve wrought.
It fractures something inside me, creating a deep, jagged crack that spreads through my heart like a fault line.
Whispers reach my ears, growing louder with each passing second. I tear my gaze away as a crowd gathers around us. Fear and disgust twist their features as they point at me.
“Murderer,” a woman hisses, her voice dripping with venom.
A man spits into the dirt near my feet. “Abomination.”
I stumble back, pulling Emerin with me. She clings to my arm, her nails digging into my skin through the fabric of my sleeve.
The crowd surges forward, their mutters growing louder, more insistent.
“I saw what she did. She has crimson magic,” a man shouts, his voice rising above the din. “She’s a monster!”
I want to deny it, to tell them that they’re wrong, but the words stick in my throat, choking me.
“Look at her, wearing that veil to cover her hideous face,” a woman cries as she stabs her hand in my direction.
Shame floods through me, hot and overwhelming. I want to hide, to disappear, to be anyone but myself.
Emerin’s grip on my arm tightens, and I know I have to get her out of here. But before I can move, the mob closes in around us. Hands reach for me, grasping at my clothes, my hair, my skin.
I cry out for them to leave us alone, but they don’t listen. They press closer, their anger, and hatred suffocating me. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but try to shield Emerin from their wrath.
A clump of dirt flies through the air and hits Emerin in the face. She cries out, and something inside me snaps. Rage surges through my veins. It builds and builds until it bursts out of me in a torrent of crimson flames that blasts the crowd backward. They stumble and fall, their screams of anger turning to shrieks of terror.
I don’t wait to see what happens next. I grab Emerin’s hand and run, pulling her through the gap in the crowd. We don’t get far before we skid to a stop, our path blocked by a wall of soldiers. Asha’s soldiers.
Commander Titanus stands at their head, his stern eyes locked on me.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I tighten my grip on Emerin’s hand. What will they do to us? To me?
The commander steps forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword. I brace myself for the worst, but he doesn’t draw his weapon.
Instead, he turns to the crowd, his voice booming out over their angry shouts. “Get back,” he commands. “Leave them alone.”
Slowly, the crowd disperses, drifting away in twos and threes.
My knees weaken as I let out a shaky breath. But my relief is short-lived. Because now I have to face the commander, and I have no idea what he will do to me.
* * *
Commander Titanus’footsteps echo through the stone hallway as he leads me to Asha’s favorite parlor. I try to count each footfall in an attempt to calm my racing thoughts, but I only make it to twenty before the numbers slip away.
I glance to the side, turning just enough to catch sight of Emerin’s profile as she walks beside me. The same fear as earlier etches her features.
I swallow through the pain throbbing through me. This is one of my biggest fears—my sisters bearing witness to this hidden side of me. The part of me that is Lyra.
A guard opens the door to Asha’s study, and I follow Commander Titanus into the room. Emerin trails me at a much slower pace and draws to a stop next to me.
Asha rises to her feet. “What is the meaning of this?”
The commander bows his head. “I bring grave news. Lady Annora used crimson magic in the city. She killed two men and turned her powers against a crowd of innocent people.”
Shame sears through me like a hot poker, forcing my head to hang low. I can’t summon the courage to meet Asha’s eyes, to see the disappointment and horror I’ll find there.
