Page 2 of Shadow Fall: Part Two

"Stop!" Wynvail yelled, his voice reaching through the clamour and noise. "Stop, Haley!"

He called me Haley again.

I gritted my teeth and shoved through the riot of deep, echoing thunder. I wrenched myself free with a roar and shoved my magic back into its pit of origin, panting heavily in Kai's shaking arms.

"Okay," I rasped, my vision swimming. "No shield."

"Guys," Verena warned, and Kai spun, carrying me with him.

I inhaled sharply at the sight of Verena's bright power overflowing her hands, forming rivers on the dark ledge as it dripped between her fingers.

Harvey rushed towards her, but her magic wasn't just forming golden rivers on the stone—it was sinking into grooves that were already there, carved but shallow, barely noticeable.

My stomach tightened, dread blooming. Feeding power into a prison Cronus created and forged from stolen shadows was about as far from a good idea as we could get. What if he felt it? Icy fear plunged my temperature lower.

"Something's here, pulling on my power," Verena gasped, shaking harder, more magic flowing from her.

No, no, no. We were supposed to get in and out before Cronus knew we were here.

"I'll find it and kill it," Wane swore with a lethal calm. He lifted his hands and shadows blasted from him, pouring into the chasm and racing up, up to the top of the cave, blacking out even the sapphire glow of the cells until I couldn't see my own hands in front of my face.

The only thing visible was Verena's golden magic, pooling, spreading, tracing grooves all across the stone and down over the edge into the dark below.

I tugged myself out of Kai's arms—with effort—and drew my volcanic blade. Don't be afraid of your power, Erebus said. So, I searched through myself, not for my blood magic but the volatile curse magic. Titan magic. Whatever it was, it flickered to life, old and dangerous and far too eager.

My blade flashed red, and my breath caught. Despite everything, I smiled. It wasn't panic, dread, or a hippocampus racing for me that lit my blade this time; it was all me, all my intention. It felt good—for at least a nanosecond until Verena cried out and her knees weakened.

Harvey caught her before she could fall, pulling her into his side. We swarmed around her like panicked moths around a torch, guided only by the light of her power.

"Found them," Wane said suddenly, vindictive satisfaction thrumming through his soul like a fire.

I jumped at a loud crash from below us, and held my glowing knife in front of myself, frantic to see into the darkness as a male roar of anger and fear cut the sudden silence.

"What's happening?" Emlyn demanded.

"Wane's got the bastard who thinks he can steal Verena's magic," Wynvail replied. His grin was sharp in the magic's light.

Tiny tremors moved through my hand, crimson light scattering across the ground and memories too close, too clear in my mind. Someone would die today. We always lost someone.

"Who the fuck are you?" Wane asked in a voice deeper and more dreadful than I'd heard before.

His shadows parted, and I sucked in a surprised breath when I watched a thick tendril of shadow drag a blond-haired man in his twenties up through the chasm and onto the ledge. Wane slammed him into the wall behind us hard enough that the whole cave rattled. "Give back the magic you stole."

"Stole," the man laughed, his teeth bared and something feral about his expression. His face was drawn, mostly hidden behind a grizzly beard, and his hair was long and ungroomed. He looked like a wild lion; every bit as golden and dangerous. "How can I steal it when it's mine?"

"It's not yours," Verena hissed, leaning into Harvey but glaring at the man Wane pinned to the dark wall. "It's mine!"

The magic thief looked at her—and stared. His eyes never left the magic overflowing her hands, golden and bright, but his eyes kept returning to her face.

Emlyn stepped in front of her with a growl. "Answer his question. Who are you?"

The proud ego left the bearded man; he slumped, not resisting as Wane's shadow held him against the wall. "Apollo. I am Apollo, and this sunlight came from me." He tried to look around Em's big shoulders to see Verena.

Phoebe's voice echoed through my head, as loud as any heartbeat.

You were fathered by Apollo.

I pressed my lips together when my bottom one threatened to cave in. She was ours—our family. We carved out a space for her amongst us, and she fit in perfectly. But we didn't stand a chance against blood family. She grew up in care; I knew the thoughts that tormented her, knew her hopes and dreams because they were mine. Why did my mum abandon me? How could she walk away when she was supposed to love me? Why didn't she want me?

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