Page 56 of Ash and Feather

He snatched my arm in a bone-crushing grip and roughly shoved my sleeve up. He was searching my skin for a divine mark, maybe—a sign of magical ability usually only found on humans.

I held my breath until I saw for myself that both the marks Mairu and Zachar had branded onto my skin were no longer visible. Even as another wave of heat surged through me—a combination of both my own rage and Dravyn’s, I thought—nothing appeared.

They’d been there at the beginning of this; were the spells wearing thin?

Andrel continued to scrutinize my skin. I must have made frustratingly little sense to him, but even if he didn’t realize who or what I truly was, he clearly suspected I was at least connected to the divine more than any elf should have been.

His grip didn’t let up, fingers digging in so tightly I wondered if he was attempting to break the bones in my wrist for a second time.

“Let go of me,” I hissed.

“Not until you explain who the hell you really are.”

I kneed him in the stomach instead.

My strength and speed seemed to catch him off guard. I didn’t land as hard of a blow as I wanted to, but it was enough to knock him back and loosen his grip on me. I wrenched my arm the rest of the way free, biting back a cry as the violent twisting motion sent pain stabbing up my arm.

He shook off my attack and dove for me again.

I swung my throbbing arm forward, slamming my palm upwards into his nose. It was cathartic, the feel of that nose crumpling under my furious strength, and the blood that gushed out and rained over me.

But as much as I wanted to stay and break every bone in his face—to make him truly pay for the things he’d done—I knew when the odds were against me. And those odds were getting worse by the second, with more and more soldiers drawing closer and threatening to intervene.

I saw an opening behind him, and while he was busy wiping the blood from his face, I moved.

I sprinted past him, racing toward the gate I’d entered the city through. I changed direction before I reached that gate, though, heading instead for a small road I’d noted on my way in. It led to what looked to be an older, smaller entry point with a much less impressive wall stretching out around it. I made my way to a partially-collapsed part of this wall and vaulted over it. My injured hand burned in protest, but I fought through the pain, landing lightly on the other side and scrambling for the cover of the thickest bushes I could find.

A crowd was gathering at the main gate; I was still dangerously close to it, able to hear what I could only assume was a hunting party preparing to come after me.

Was Andrel among that party?

Was my sister?

I sank deeper into the foliage. Hand shaking, I picked up a stick and sketched precise little lines into the dirt, recreating the mental map I’d made of the route between Ederis and the first anti-magic ward.

Somehow, I had to get to the other side of that ward.

Chapter 15

Dravyn

“This place reeks,”Valas grumbled, “of elves and something even more rotten.”

“Do me a favor,” I replied, hacking an overgrown vine from our path, “and complain more, why don’t you?”

“I’m only trying to make conversation.”

“Silence is golden, my mother used to say.”

“In here it’s just eerie,” Valas countered. “Why do all of these plants give off such a hostile, dark energy? It’s strange. Cursed, it feels like.”

It’s because this place isn’t meant for gods, I thought. But I made my way to a clearer path and continued walking without comment.

We’d spent hours hovering on the outskirts of this wild forest after parting ways with Karys. Tense, excruciating hours with nothing to do but wait and hope she returned to us in one piece before the day was over—until, finally, Valas and I had both reached our limit and decided to move.

We’d ventured well-beyond our previously agreed-upon boundary, and we now found ourselves deep in the Hollowlands. How deep the lands ultimately stretched, I couldn’t even guess at.

It was a foreign feeling, that uncertainty; ever since my ascension, there were few places I did not feel comfortable walking in, and fewer still where I didn’t feel like I had some measure of control and dominance. The upper-god I served was the one who had imposed order and knowledge over the world, after all.

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