Page 10 of By the Flames of Her Fury

The instant a spark appeared, the same stabbing pain exploded in my arm. I sucked in a breath and fought through it, my fingers shaking as light danced between them. But the stronger it grew, the more intense the pain became, until stars popped in my vision and I nearly passed out again.

I finally dropped my arm and slid to the ground, tears of frustration welling in my eyes.

“There’s no use trying,” the boy said. “It’ll only get worse.”

I sagged against the wall. Without my magic, I felt even more helpless than before. How was I ever supposed to get out of here? How was I supposed to make sure Nox and Mama were okay?

“There should be a bedroll in the far corner,” the boy offered, breaking the silence. I looked around until I spotted a gray, raggedy lump on the other side of the cell. “It’s not much, but it gets cold down here. And there’s a bucket, too. For…you know…”

He trailed off, and my cheeks flushed. I grimaced when I spotted the little bucket with dark stains around it. I vaguely wondered who had been in this cell last, and why they were no longer here.

Panic built in my chest again, a hot, acidic flood with nowhere to go. I’d never seen these underground cells before, but I’d heard about them. A secret place for Kane Scarven’s experiments. The governor of Drakorum took innocent Veridians and brought them here to test their magic in all sorts of horrible ways. It was mostly rumors, of course—I hadn’t met anyone who’d actually been here. But with my enhanced Shifter hearing, I swore I could hear the screams from my room up above. It was impossible not to know something terrible was happening, not when I’d lived in his mansion for almost all my life.

Fourteen years ago, when Scarven found out my big brother Nox was a dragon Shifter, he killed our father and captured Mama, Nox, and me. He kept all three of us under lock and key in his manor so he could figure out how Nox was the first dragon born in over two hundred years. He was an impossibility. A myth.

But now Nox wasn’t the only Duma child Scarven was interested in. Not since I manifested four different kinds of magics. That had never happened in the history of the Veridian Empire.

Lucky me.

My first magic was light. I conjured small streaks of it when I was eleven, and everyone was surprised—my immediate family was all Shifters. But it was possible I could be a Lightbender, if one of our ancestors was.

Then came my wings. A phoenix, everyone whispered in awe. Another incredibly rare Shifter form, like my brother.

Two years ago, my shadow wielding magic kicked in. That was when Scarven turned me into his personal experiment. His lackeys were in my room every day, drawing blood and injecting me with new serums to see how I’d react. I supposed I should’ve been grateful he let me stay in my wing of the mansion with Mama and Nox.

I could’ve never known that when a fourth magic manifested in me yesterday, my entire life would change forever.

My chest and arms ached. I rubbed the heel of my palm over my heart, willing myself not to cry. I hadn’t cried since I was a little kid. Crying was weak, and Scarven didn’t tolerate weakness. So instead, I hummed. Mama would always sing me a song to put me to sleep when I was younger, and I caught her humming the pretty tune often over the years. It made me think of her, and I could almost pretend she was here with me.

The vibration in my throat distracted me from the burning behind my eyes. My humming was the only sound until he spoke again.

“That’s pretty,” he said softly. “It’s been years since I heard a song.”

I looked over at the hole in the wall, surprised to find a bright gray eye looking back. My brow furrowed. “Wait, I thought your eyes were green?”

The gray eye twinkled as if he were smiling. “They’re both. One gray, one green.” He shifted over so his green eye came into view. We stared at each other for a moment. “Yours are gold. I’ve never seen eyes like that.”

One side of my lip twitched upward. “I get that a lot.” I looked down and scratched the floor with my nail. “By the way, my name’s⁠—”

“Don’t,” he suddenly said, and I glanced up. “Don’t tell me your name. I know it sounds weird, but down here…it’s better if things just aren’t real, you know?”

I studied that mysterious green eye, and my chest tightened at the emptiness I saw. I slowly nodded. “Then what am I supposed to call you?”

He paused. “You can call me Swift.”

“Okay, Swift. It’s nice to meet you.”

He leaned away from the hole, enough for me to catch a hint of cracked lips that slanted up into a sad smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, Songbird.”

4

Vera

The silence after the chaos was always the worst part. When the adrenaline ran dry, the weight settled in, and I no longer had anything to distract me from my thoughts.

I sat on the stern deck, gazing out to the midnight waters as I twirled the phoenix crest between my fingers. Another night where sleep refused to find me. It was delusional to believe that, once I was out of my imprisonment, I’d be able to sleep soundly on a bed of soft, warm blankets. A false hope my mind conjured to keep me yearning for life beyond the cells, only to disappoint when I finally achieved it. It had been over a year, and I still couldn’t shake how strange it felt to lay my head on feathers instead of stone.

So, I didn’t. Instead, I kept watch. I scanned the smooth, dark sea, looking for any sign of the ripple I’d seen earlier. It had disappeared as quickly as it came, but my unrest lingered. Starke told me it was all in my head, that I sought out monsters and enemies the way a starved fisherman seeks his next meal, seeing something where there was nothing.