Page 22 of Heat of the Everflame

I was suddenly so tired. So very, very tired.

“Diem!” Luther’s voice was strained and desperate. “Diem—hold on, I’m coming!”

The world wobbled and dimmed. To my right, the Guardians slipped another shimmering black bolt into the ballista’s arm. I knew I couldn’t stop it a second time—my magic was too frazzled, too faint.

My head rolled groggily to the left. Luther had abandoned all sanity, braving a lethal hailstorm in a sprint for my side. My heart wrenched as one arrow sank into the flesh of his shoulder, then another lodged in his thigh.

Our eyes met.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed.

Take him home, and don’t come back.

Sorae snarled a protest at the silent order I sent across our bond, but she was powerless to ignore it. No matter how fierce her desire to protect me, her free will was leashed to my command. She would obey me—even if that obedience cost me my life.

With two thundering steps, she was airborne again, the powerful downdraft of her wings sending the rest of the arrows off course. Luther looked up, then back at me, his eyes darkening near-black with rage.

“Don’t you dare,” he snarled. “Diem—”

His furious words cut short as Sorae’s talons encircled his chest and plucked him into the air.

“Launch the ballista!” Cordellia shouted.

Save them, I pleaded with thevoice.

It didn’t answer.

My godhood was spent, and so was I.

My head fell back against the soil as my glassy eyes unfocused. The last thing I saw was the shimmer of sunlight on godstone as the second bolt raced toward a fleeing gryvern and an arrow-struck man.

Chapter

Six

Iwas drowning again.

Just like before, I was pinned in place, my arms and legs trapped at my side. Liquid splashed across my face, then my nose pinched shut and a hand clamped across my lips to keep them closed.

“Swallow,” a familiar voice commanded.

My eyes flew open. I instinctively jerked against my restraints as every thought washed from my mind except the fight-or-flight of looming death. As I strained to get free, I heard the jangle of chains and felt the cold bite of metal against my wrists.

“We’ve been through this before,” the voice said. “Stop fighting and swallow.”

My eyes darted to its owner. A few inches away, Cordellia watched with impassive resolve.

“You need the liquids, Diem,” she said bluntly. “If you don’t drink, you’re going to pass out again, and next time, you might not wake up.”

Perhaps knowing her words were too close to the truth, my throat involuntary forced the bitter, flameroot-taintedliquid down. The thrum of magic in my chest sputtered and disappeared, leaving me hollow once more.

Cordellia nodded, and the hands covering my face released me.

“Was that really necessary?” I rasped in between gasps for air to relieve my aching lungs.

“Yes,” she snapped, giving me a hard look that challenged me to deny it. “Are you going to take the next drink willingly, or do we need to go for round two?”

I laid in silence for a moment, panting and giving my overwhelmed mind a moment to recognize that I was not, in fact, drowning to death at the bottom of the Sacred Sea.

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