“Right, but we already proved she can’t produce Angellight as you can,” Tolek said.
We’d tested the emblems with Jezebel’s blood thinking maybe her Angelblood had somehow been activated, but shedidn’t create any Angellight. Not a drop beyond that silver-blue glow.
My sister and I were trying other experiments.
“Maybe there’s a way to awaken something within Jezebel using my blood. Lancaster said we need to be testing this magic in different ways.” I held up a hand and my dagger as Tol opened his mouth. “Before you complain, Tolek”—I made a tiny cut on the back of my arm and winked at him—“I can heal it quickly.”
Angellight was already wrapping up my wrist in a golden tendril. It licked at my blood, crimson coating the iridescent strand, and before our eyes, the tiny sliced sealed over.
My light could heal even quicker than the mountains could stitch up an injury. I’d realized I could do that when Kakias attacked us at the trench months ago and again when my body seemed to recover unnaturally fast during the final battle. I hadn’t known at the time what it was, but apparently Angellight—especially the kind I could now wield outside of my body—was helpful for at least one thing.
If only I knew its other secrets.
They were there, beneath my skin. I could feel them, but every time I tried to tug them free by yanking on those threads of magic, my body protested. I didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t know how I’d figure it out, either, given Damien still refused to appear.
Regardless, I shoved away my discomfort and looked at Jezzie. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Do you worst.”
I stared into her tawny eyes, alive with possibility, and all I heard was Lancaster’s demand that we learn more. That we push the boundaries of this newfound magic.
“What are you?—”
Before Tolek could finish his sentence, Angellight shot from my hand, right toward Jez.
“What’s the point of the blood?” Erista asked, watching warily as my golden power wrapped around her partner, toward the wound on Jez’s finger.
“A direct link,” Jezebel said, “hopefully.”
“It feels different,” I said through gritted teeth. “It feels like…something waking.” Like something growing wings and taking flight.
I willed the power to wind around my sister as it did through my bones. Envisioning it, I directed it to learn her as it had me, to wake whatever might be resting within her along with that untamed spirit power.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“It’s warm. Good.” Jezzie studied her hand, where my power skimmed right over her blood, but left it untouched. Slowly, she unwound her own silver-blue light and threaded it against my own. “Where the ability to talk to the dying feels like a cold release, this feels like…life. It feels like something greater than any warrior?—”
Her words were slashed into silence when the strand of Angellight reared up.
Like a beast lunging for its prey, the golden tendril whipped back and shot for Jez, releasing a vicious hiss.
“Ophelia!” Erista shouted.
I tugged it back. Tugged and tugged that wild, savage magic, recalling it to me.
But it pulled for Jezebel.
Jezebel, who was now scrambling away as the power stretched for her, as it wrapped around her neck.
Threat, something in my head echoed.Sister, adversary, fellow.
Terror seized my lungs.
The room was full of shouting, and I begged the magic to listen.
Jezzie tore at the strand as it spread. As it slithered around her shoulders and down her spine. And the voice of the power, the thing that had woken, chuckled in my head.
“I don’t know what’s happening!” I panted.
