Page 457 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

She swallowed, chin quivering.

Was that a yes? No time to find out—the first one was moving. That healing magic—those ribbons of light I kept spooled in my chest—lashed forward. Grabbed. Crushed. He crumpled like a rag doll.

The girls ran as the second one whirled.

“My room!” I barked, shoving them past me, stepping between Cora and the last man standing. My magic lunged, but too late—his shield held firm as he snarled and charged.

“Shit!” I barked, tossing up a shield as I bolted after them. “Run!” I snapped when Cora glanced back at me, her eyes wide with terror. “Get to Fletcher. Don’t look back!”

Promise me you’ll run. Get to Cyrus. Oh, Adrastos was going to be insufferable if he found out about this.

“Faster!” I barked, tossing my magic over my shoulder, yanking pictures off the walls. Suits of armor. Tables, chairs. Anything those ribbons of light could use, I yanked toward him, into his path.

His shield would render most useless, but if I could just buy us a second. Just a few breaths to get into the tunnel and close the⁠—

A harsh hand clamped around my wrist, my scalp screaming as I was yanked back by my hair. A cry flew from my throat before I could stop it.

“The bastard’s whore,” he sneered, turning me to face him. My hand flew to his wrist, a whimper clawing up my ribcage even as I reached inward. Down past the ice to where the magic turned bright. Too bright. “Moros is going to be fucking thrilled,” he growled, his tone low and predatory, sending goosebumps over my skin. The floor shuddered, screams echoing off the walls—but he’d turned single-minded, sick satisfaction curling his lips as he brought the flat of his blade to my neck. I gritted my teeth, arching back to keep it off my throat. Adrastos’ words played in my mind.

Solskari magic feels like sunlight.

I found those ribbons—the ones Mags always said were sunshine incarnate—the ones that kissed the surface of my well every time I healed. The ones that burned my palms as I contained them.

Like the final breath of summer caressing your skin in the wake of months of darkness.

Deeper still, I scraped the bottom of those silky strands of light—light like my mother, light like hope.

Now, who said anything about fire?

“Maybe he’ll let us have some fun with you first,” he sneered, inhaling deeply. His proximity sent goosebumps rippling up my arms as, somewhere below us, a beast roared. Boots slammed into the marble floor as soldiers raced past us. Nobody stopped.

“Maybe he’ll blind you, like he did that bitch from the arena.”

That bitch from…

Horror curdled my stomach, blood draining from my face as I thought about the screams from that damn amphitheater.

Ally. No.

“Ironic,” I spat. My hands flew up as though to shield myself from a blow⁠—

And I ignited.

Even with my eyes jammed closed and my face averted, the light that shone through was enough to penetrate charcoal. It took my breath away—the hand on my hair abruptly releasing as he bellowed an epithet.

I ran—ran as the light dwindled and “Bitch!” was snarled behind me. But his anger paled in comparison to the demonic growl that ripped through the hallway.

Beasts.

We were being chased by beasts.

Without turning to see what kind of demons had been loosed in the palace, I bolted after the girls.

With my heart in my throat, I pushed my shaking legs harder than I’d ever run in my life. Air burned my windpipe, muscles weak from months of disuse.

Still, I ran.

Snarls and feet echoed behind me.