Page 64 of Between Smoke and Shadow

No.

She doesn’t look unconscious—she looks dead.

Sheisdead.

A sob wracks my chest. I pull her to me, sinking to the ground with her in my arms. I rotate until I’m leaning against the building, maneuvering her to my lap. Unmoving, not even the softest of breaths. Her head lolls backward, and I cry as I level her chin. Pretty blue eyes stare blankly at me. Distant. Empty. She’s not here—I can feel it.

I tighten my hands on her face, not letting myself look at the streaks of blood from Sorace’s murderous touch. I force myself to focus.

I can fix this. Ihaveto fix this.

I close my eyes and dig through my bones until I feel every scrap of magic within them. When I open my eyes again, I don’tthink of anything except pushing magic from my bones into hers.

I don’t know if it’s possible. Mortals aren’t like us. It doesn’t matter if it’s a servant, a commoner, an elite, a mortal guard. Anyone without powers has only enough magic to keep them alive. It keeps them breathing, walking, functioning. It doesn’t give them strength or the ability to wield.

What they’re born with is what they have. There’s no way for them to steal magic from us. But she’s not stealing—I’m giving.

“Come on,” I hiss. I study the soft outline of her blue irises.

I’ve taken magic before. It’s part of every descendant’s training. We practice on other descendants, only taking enough to learn, never kill. They never showed us how to give it back though. All I can do now is try the opposite. Instead of pulling, I’m pushing, forcing my body to go against instinct.

It takes a second for anything to happen. I’m holding Rune’s face, my forehead touching hers, and I’m digging through my bones. I’ve always been able to feel my magic. That’s how I cast it, how I send it through my fingertips and into the air, bending it to my will.

This is different. I’m not trying to use my magic; I’m trying to evict it.

My mind is a dull blade, cleaving my bones, ripping the magic in a way that feels permanent. It’s not going to come back. It won’t float in the air, do my work, and return home. These pieces of me will always be hers.

I scream against the pain. An unbearable pressure builds in my head, like the magic might explode my entire skull. My knees buckle, and when I drop my grip on Rune’s face, I realize I’m losing consciousness.

I break the connection between us, careful that the magic doesn’t try to return. My head continues to waver, but I can’tafford to pass out. I blink hard until my vision clears, at least enough that I can see her.

Still at first, but then her eyes flutter. They waver between opened and closed, but finally, they drift shut and a steady breath ripples from her lips.

Another sob cracks my ribcage.

She’s alive. She’s breathing.

I tug her against my chest, laying her head on my collarbone. She’s completely limp, completely unconscious, but I think she’s alive. Still, I know alive doesn’t mean she’s okay. She might not be the same with my magic instead of her own. I might have given her too much or too little. She might never wake up to find out.

I hold a hand over the back of her head, knotting my fingers through her hair. My breaths haven’t eased, and I don’t think they’re going to. With her clutched in my arms, I rise.

I’m unsteady. Wyhel. I had no idea I could transfer magic, but now I know why my people don’t. It’s horrible. Like I’ve been drained of half my blood. I push away from the wall, testing my footsteps. I’ve never felt this weak in my life. I didn’t know it was possible to feel like this.

This could kill me too, I realize for the first time. My attempt to save Rune might kill us both.

I stagger another few steps, to where Sorace lies unmoving. Half his body is visibly shattered, but he’s still breathing. His eyes open and shut, expression hazy, like he’s only half in this world. He makes no move to lift his hands or even to speak. He only blinks at me, each breath ragged.

I can’t risk passing out, so I keep my hands tight on Rune. Rather than casting, I plant my foot against Sorace’s throat. His mouth parts, but still, he says nothing. Stepping gently, I turn his face and force it beneath the water’s surface. His weakthrashing lasts less than a minute. And then, he stops, his eyes frozen in shock beneath the surface.

With an unsteady breath, I stumble backward. I had to kill him—I had to. His magic drifts out of him, swirling into the air like wisps of smoke. I should steal it. I know that. I’m dizzy and weak and it would make my trip back to the Chapter Building so much easier. I should steal it, and yet, I only stare as it floats higher, out of reach.

Murderer, I think. The word infiltrates my mind without permission, until it’s my only thought. I’ve never crossed that line. I was positive I never would.

After allowing myself a moment, I hug Rune tighter to my chest. I’m squeezing so hard I’ll probably leave bruises, but I’m too scared to loosen my grip. With a final look at Sorace’s corpse, I stagger back to the Chapter Building with her between my arms.

“Holy shit,”Joran says as I come through the door. I crash to the ground with Rune still held against me. She rolls out of my arms, unmoving aside from her labored breaths. I’d stopped every block to check for them, for the strained rise and fall of her chest.

I shift onto my side, moaning as I rotate her face-up.

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