Page 257 of Of Masks and Fury

“Surprised?” Coralee’s shrill laugh rang across the battlefield. Her blade swept toward his throat. He blocked, but barely. “You always were too trusting.”

“You’re dead,” Trew snarled, pressing his attack. Their blades locked, their faces inches apart.

Gavelle roared and raced toward them, Pherin blasting Skathes with fire as she kept pace with him.

“The real Coralee did die sixteen years ago.” Her smirk rose. “I killed her. As for me…” She disengaged with a twist, her ermine companion leaping off her shoulders. It shifted into its white bear form and raced to intercept Gavelle and Pherin. “I was born three hundred years ago into a family of powerful mages.” She didn’t even huff for breath as she battled Trew, but she’d just sucked in blood magic. “Do you know what it’s like to be lesser, Trewyn, to watch everyone fawn over your family while you’re barely noticed?”

She attacked again, a complex series of strikes that drove Trew backward. They were evenly matched, and she met every one of his moves with a perfect counter.

“But then I learned about bloodfire magic,” she said. “I fueled it with stolen power.”

She’d been behind the Day of Mercy all along.

Watching them fight terrified me. Trew was one of the finest swordsmen I’d ever seen, and she was matching him effortlessly.

“I killed your aunt and took her place,” Coralee said with a slick smile.

I turned back to the breach, forcing myself to focus. Addie’s hands glowed with silver-blue light as she worked on the chains. Her body flickered more frequently now, the veil-sickness worsening with the use of the power she stole from the veil.

“Bloodfire magic fooled everyone,” Coralee hissed, her voice carrying over the clash of steel. “The research your aunt gave your father? My work. I removed key details, however. I couldn’t share everything.”

I reached for the breach again, trying to visualize how the threads should connect. I’d speculated the pattern should flow in a spiral, tightening toward the center, but instead, it splayed outward in a grotesque mockery of proper weaving.

“This would be over with already if Velacross’s wards had been easier to break.” Coralee ducked under Trew’s swing and scored a line across his ribs. Blood bloomed through his tunic. “Your mother noticed something was wrong. I poisoned her.”

“You killed my mother.” Trew’s voice went deadly quiet. His next attack came with so much fury that Coralee gave ground, her boots splashing through muck.

“Your father too,” she said with a laugh, parrying a strike aimed at her heart. “Marlane came close, so I killed her. Velacross’s mistake sixteen years ago gave me the doorway I needed to finally ascend. If they’d sealed the veil, I couldn’t become a god.”

My hands shook as I gathered my magic. She wanted to merge the realms and turn herself into someone who’d rival the fates?

“There,” Addie gasped. Fenmark’s chains fell away with a clang. His eyes fluttered open, focusing on her.

“Run,” he croaked. “Addie, run!”

“Not without you.” She helped him sit up, tears falling down her face.

The ritual circle throbbed, its pattern disrupted by the movement of its anchor. Alfred roared, breaking away from Kira to rush toward Addie and Fenmark.

“Protect them,” Trew shouted as he slashed out at Coralee.

Kerralyn and Derren intercepted Alfred, their blades meeting with enough force to send shockwaves through the ground. Lexie hobbled over to help Addie with Fenmark, her face tight with pain.

I reached into the breach with both hands, my veil-sight revealing every corrupted thread. How could I reweave this? The pattern seemed too complex and too damaged.

“Blood calls to blood,” Addie said, joining me. Fenmark leaned heavily against Lexie, barely conscious. “That’s what Velacross wrote. Our blood…is the thread.”

Understanding crashed through me. “We need to bleedintoit. Let our magic flow through our blood to repair the weave.”

“It could kill us,” Addie said quietly.

“Then we die.”

We locked eyes. In hers, I found the strength of a woman who’d survived torture and veil-sickness and was still standing. She’d find the same in mine, the determination that had carried me through everything that came before.

My sister. My other half.

She gave me a nod. “Let’s do it, Isi.”