Page 204 of Blood of the Stars

Arvid raised his knife once more, but Aeliana let her starlock’s power reach out through her, forcing Arvid to loosen his grip until the knife clattered to the ground. She grabbed the knife for herself, its foreign grip still giving her a sense of power now that it was in her control.

For a moment, his eyes widened, a strange panic she’d never seen on either of her guardians’ faces overtaking him.

But then the cold rush returned, taking Aeliana’s breath out of her lungs. Darkness flooded the room, momentarily blocking out even the Sun’s rays. It swept over Gaeren, who shivered and scooted back against the wall, then it rested on Arvid, pausing as if to take a breath. Only it was Arvid who took the impossibly long breath, sucking in the dark spirit as if it gave life to his body, when in reality it brought him just shy of death. The darkness retreated, absorbing into Arvid until his skin seemed leached of color and warmth. He stretched his neck and flexed his fingers, reveling in the new sense of power.

He stood near the wall’s edge, the broken stones framing him as the Sun’s light filtered in.

Aeliana’s heart raced, her small victory now a waste of effort.

“You’ve made a mistake,” Arvid said, his voice deeper, his smile wider. “Not just in refusing the blood magic, but in thinking righteous choices are rewarded. Refusing to do blood magic won’t save your friends.” He held out a hand, and something black coiled out from his fingers, burrowing into Jasperus’ side.

Jasperus slid farther down the wall, and Iris rushed to gently lower him, lifting his shirt. The skin remained intact, but a blackness spread in his vessels like a poison working its way through him.

The others inched away from Arvid, but Aeliana stepped closer.

“You’re right. I can’t compete with your dark spirits.”

His laugh bounced painfully off the walls.

“But you are still a man.” She flicked her wrist and released the dagger just like Lukai had shown her, just like she’d done when fighting the winex. It flew through the air with surprising accuracy, and Aeliana held her breath. She hadn’t imagined being able to take a human life in this way, but now that the moment was here, she was ready for the weight of it, just like she’d been ready with Baljekk.

Only Arvid batted the knife away like a child’s toy, and it fell and clinked against the stone.

“I’m no longer just a man when I have this in me.” Arvid gestured to himself, and his form flickered, allowing Aeliana to see the dark spirit permeating every part of his body, fused with his soul, feeding on it like maggots.

Aeliana frowned, pulling her bow from her back instead. The others each readied their weapons as well, their movements slower, slightly more wary. Arvid wanted Aeliana alive, but the others didn’t matter. This fight needed to be hers.

“Leave,” she whispered, glancing at the others’ uncertain faces. “Take Jasperus and go before Arvid injures you or uses you.”

Iris dragged Jasperus toward the doorway until Lukai and Velden helped her lift him, but Sylmar spun his molten staff, forcing Arvid to face him once more.

Aeliana sent an arrow flying at Arvid’s chest, but he caught it, tossing it out the gap before summoning his knife. Still, his gaze remained on Sylmar’s spinning staff, an almost youthful arrogance to his eagerness. Blackness shot out from his hands once more, snuffing out Sylmar’s staff like a candle’s flame.

Sylmar tripped in his surprise, catching himself on the wall and letting his staff clatter to the floor. Arvid released another dark wave that caught Sylmar’s hand against the stone like a fly in a spider’s web before he could summon his starlock’s energy another way. Velden joined the fray, pulling at the blackness, but it only spread to his webbed hands, weaving through both their veins like paint spreading on a canvas. Cyrus rushed to Velden’s side, stripping fabric from his tunic before attempting to wipe the blackness away.

Aeliana readied another arrow, which made Arvid laugh.

“We could do this all day, but you’re running out of time.” He glanced meaningfully at the Sun over his shoulder, which was now at eye level.

Too late, Aeliana realized it was a ploy. When she flicked her gaze back to Arvid, his black ropes had yanked Cyrus in front of him like a shield. He sliced Cyrus’ upper arm, then held his knife at the younger man’s neck. With his free arm, he trapped Cyrus against his chest and caught the blood pooling beneath the wound.

Arvid’s eyes widened as he sensed the lack of starblood.

“Did you and your dark spirit forget Cyrus is human?” Aeliana almost felt like laughing, but Cyrus groaned, then twisted away from Arvid’s knife until he had an arm free. He shoved his hand against Arvid’s throat, using it more as a handle to push Arvid toward the tower’s opening than to actually choke him.

Arvid latched onto Cyrus’ wrist, pulling the younger man with him. Blackness oozed out from his hands, but it hovered, more like the dark spirit assessed its safety with Arvid. As they reached the opening, Arvid placed one hand on the surrounding stone for balance, ready to drive Cyrus over the edge. Aeliana steadied the arrow at her cheek and took one final shot. This time the older man wasn’t watching to defend it, and this time the dark spirit sensed Arvid wasn’t worth it. The arrow struck Arvid’s wrist. He lost his grip and balance, scrabbling for purchase. He nearly pulled Cyrus with him as he tumbled over the edge, but Gaeren snatched Cyrus’ feet to stop his fall.

Both men landed hard, Cyrus’ torso hanging over the edge of the gap. Aeliana rushed forward, helping them get clear of the opening. Her hands shook as she peered over the edge, thankful she couldn’t see the evidence of her actions.

She closed her eyes anyway, her mind reliving the moment of the arrow entering Arvid’s flesh with a thunk before he disappeared over the edge. She’d killed him. Just like Baljekk and just like the children at the farm.

No, the children at the farm had been killed by the dark spirits. The dark spirits Arvid had welcomed in. Numbness crept through her, replacing the guilt that warred with justification.

“Are you all right?” Gaeren tugged on her sleeve, his concerned eyes taking in every part of her face.

“Of course. It’s Cyrus who was in danger.”

“That’s not what—” Gaeren cut off, placing a hand on her cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping into the icy chill left from the arrow’s flight from her bow. “You had to do it. You did the right thing. Doesn’t mean it was easy.”

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