Whatever it is, it’sbig.
I sink into a crouch to steady myself. My adrenaline surges out of control. Every voice in my head tells me torun.
But my body can’t keep going. I’m worn out as a dish rag.
I take a single step backward, and the circle of tents seems to spiral as I sway on my heels.
The soldiers around the campfire make no move to attack me, but two women in indigo cloaks emerge from a tent and silently move behind me, cutting off any retreat into the woods.
I stumble, on the verge of panic.
“Little princess,” a voice sneers as Iyre steps out from behind one of the tents, her glowing fey lines reminding me of the sentient vines, the cloudfox, and all the other deceitful magic in this cursed kingdom. “How kind of you to run exactly where I was going to bring you anyway.”
From behind her, the cloudfox gives a lupine snicker.
I narrow my eyes as rage burns through me.
I had thought there was no strength left in my bones. That I was one breath away from crumpling like a leaf. That my beautiful future with Basten might be closed off forever when Iyre sealed the fae portal.
But I underestimated my hatred for the gods.
“You.” I jab a finger at the cloudfox. “You and I aren’t finished.” Then, I square up to Iyre, my real enemy, and lift my chin. “You think you rule this land? You think you ruleme?”
“Well,yes.” She stands before me with her hands primlyfolded in a farce of modesty, the exact pose from the statue of Immortal Iyre back at the convent.
In a flash, I’m back within those high stone walls.
My hands are blistered and bleeding from scrubbing the Sisters’ floors for hours on end. Finally, I reach the end of the hallway where an alcove holds that damnable statue. The vines have been growing like crazy since I arrived—no matter how many times I pull them off, they grow back within days.
“Immortal Iyre showers the righteous with good fortune,” Mother White’s grating voice drones from behind me as her boots stop an inch from my scouring brush. She adjusts a candle set in the statue’s clasped hands. “Because we worship her, she gives us the bounty of strong cider, a roof over our heads, and lamb stew enough to feed the entire convent.”
She turns, hiccupping from all that ‘strong cider,’ and leaves fresh, muddy tracks where I just finished cleaning.
I clench my jaw.Iharvested apples and brewed their cider.Iclimbed onto an unsteady ladder to rethatch the roof.Islaved over a fire all day, stewing lambs who had only hours before pleaded with me for their lives. And I never even got more than a few bites to soothe my groaning belly.
Now, that beaten-down, ten-year-old girl inside me cries out for help. I’m not a child anymore.
I’m a force of nature.
I dig my nails into my palms for the grounding bite of pain.
The sly cloudfox has slunk over to thecampfire, still grinning its self-satisfied smile as it paws around a turkey bone dropped in the dirt.
Like a lantern, my rational mind switches off.
I’m only dimly aware now of what’s happening, as though I’m watching myself like an owl from overhead branches. I feel outside my own body. This has only happened once before, in Duren’s arena, when Rian let a tiger loose upon an innocent boy. He’d wanted to test my powers. To push me to the limit of my capabilities beyond where I was willing to go.
At the time, I hated him for it.
Now, I whisper a word of gratitude that he showed me what I’m capable of.
Watching from above, I see myself rise to my full height, no longer bowed by exhaustion. The scratches on my arms ooze blood that dribbles to the ground. My eyes are cloudy, glazed over with a strange silver sheen.
The soldiers shift their stances, murmuring uncertainly to one another, preparing to block me should I try to run.
My head snaps like a child’s doll toward the cloudfox. Lips moving silently, I feel like I am both in my body and outside of it.
Light up this camp like a fireball,I command it.