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“No, not one of us.” Magnus squared up, hands fisted at his sides. “An imposter, pretending to be one of us.” His penetrating stare landed on Araxis. “Tell me something only you know. I’m talking childhood.”
“What?” Araxis recoiled. “You can’t be serious.”
“As the fucking Veil, little brother.”
Amun cleared his throat. “Driana, if you would please excuse us and direct the others to give us some space as well?”
The warrior Sorcerit bowed and turned on her heel, everyone in the vicinity melting away with little more than a word from her.
“We don’t have time for this,” Araxis hissed as soon as they were alone. “And anyway, how do we know it isn’t you?”
Pet flashed over Mag’s features, his lips peeling back. “Don’t you even fucking dare."
“Oy, alright. Let’s…” Faldir scrubbed a hand down his scarred face. “Everyone take a deep breath, yeah? It’s been a long few days.”
Brand stared at each of his present brothers in turn, at Faldir, feeling the clean wash of their familiar power and not at all believing it was any of them. “We all agree to give a truth that only someone here can confirm,” he said anyway. “Quickly, so we can move on.”
“Fine,” Mag and Araxis said at the same time, glaring at each other.
They took turns whispering old secrets so no one overheard. Most of it was stupid shite from when they were young. But every single one uncoiled a separate worry in Brand, his shoulders sagging, until a good chunk of the possible culprits had disappeared by the time they were done.
“So, can we finally fucking agree none of us here are your imposter?” Araxis hissed.
“Aye, but I regret nothing,” Mag answered.
“Yes, and not just here.” Brand dug a fist into his breastbone, the bond vibrating. “It isn’t Luna.”
“Or Amalajneera,” Amun said, rubbing at his temples.
“And it isn’t Fern.” Magnus crossed his arms and looked away. “So now fucking what?”
“I wish I could say it isn’t Hedda, but we all know how that went last time…” Faldir chuckled when they all recoiled. “What? Too soon?”
Brand didn’t want to believe it was anyone in his family, let alone one of his twin shadows. Again.
“Our main focus now is to rethink our strategy. This isn’t— Fuck!” Searing pain engulfed Brand’s body, buckling his knees. He hit the ground and doubled over, gasping and gagging, the others surrounding him. “Luna,” was all he managed to force out before he vomited in the scorched grass.
Just outside the healing tent’s glamour, knees in the dirt, Lunara reminded herself that she wasn’t falling to madness. That this might work.
Araxis is going to be pissed.
Yes, well, he could go eat shite.
The dreadbeast thrashing in front of her was the smallest one they’d come across by far. She was spent, her moonlight bars struggling to stay put while she focused on burrowing into the creature’s mind, but she couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try.
It was weak and stunted, the least decayed she’d ever seen. If she could save this one, one that seemed so new, their efforts were valid. If she couldn’t…
Then you can bleeding give in, light up the whole damned realm, and live free with the knowledge that you didn’t have a choice.
Yes. That.
Sisters save her.
“Get that talon!”
Hedda lunged, fangs flashing as she wrestled a second of its legs down. “I suggest you hurry up,” she grunted.
“Trying.”
