Page 67 of Spark of the Everflame

And then he struck.

ChapterSixteen

Tingling exploded through my body. That same peculiar icy heat I’d felt in the palace, and then again in the forest, now poured into every crevice, every soft curve, setting my skin ablaze with waves of frost and flame.

A bright flash illuminated my eyelids, followed by an ominous silence.

I waited to feel something—pain, or impact, or whatever lightness of being people ascended to whenever they died. But there was nothing. Only my own panting and the fading sensation that consumed me moments ago.

“How?” he stammered. “How did you...?”

I cracked my eyes open.

Nothing had changed. A child still huddled in my arms. His mother was still dead in a heap against the wall. And the Descended man still stood over me, slack-jawed and stunned.

He missed.

He missed.

He shook his head. “But... I hit you.”

The glint of light against metal caught my eye. Brecke’s blade had fallen a short distance from the man’s feet. If I could just reach it, if I had one more chance...

He followed my line of vision. Sensing my intention, he lunged forward with palms out. Shadows materialized and hardened into a volley of razor-tipped arrows.

I locked up as the darkness surrounded me.

Another icy tingling.

Another blinding glow.

My eyes closed in reflex. When I reopened them, wisps of shimmering mist dissolved into the air.

He’d missed...again?I’d seen the attack with my own eyes—the arrows were on a direct trajectory, locked on to my thundering heart. There was no chance they wouldn’t hit.

And yet...

Our eyes met in parallel stares of confusion, quickly interrupted by the sound of yelling and approaching footsteps.

My plan.

“Fire!” I yelled again, lurching upright. “Fire, over here!”

A crowd gathered at the edge of the alley, including several burly men carrying buckets that sloshed with water.

Years ago, I’d tended to a woman in these alleys who had been stabbed by her lover’s wife. The wounds hadn’t killed her, but they’d left her unable to walk. After hours of crying for help with no response, she’d realized that in Paradise Row, no one was brave—or foolish—enough to come to the aid of a total stranger.

But if she yelledfire... well, that was different. A fire, in these closely packed streets, could take out a swath of buildings in minutes. While the people here might not risk their lives for a stranger, they would do it for their own homes and businesses.

And the people that stood before me now might never intervene to save me from this Descended, but they could be an audience. And that just might be enough.

He looked at the approaching crowd and swore.

I hurled myself toward my fallen knife. My fingers closed around the cold metal just as my shoulder skidded across the grit-covered ground. I twisted my body and swung the blade at his leg.

Instinct guided my hand toward his ankle. Thanks to my training both as a healer and a fighter, I knew a cut at just the right spot could sever the tendon and render him unable to walk, but a trapped Descended who couldn’t flee might decide to take out this entire crowd. I didn’t need the man disabled—I only needed himgone.

My aim shifted up at the last second, and I flinched at the knock of metal striking bone. Hot blood splashed across my fingers as the knife slashed through his fortified skin as easily as warm tallow.

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