Page 184 of Children of Fallen Gods

I felt it — what? I wasn’t even sure.Something. And it felt likehim, a magic now so foreign and familiar at once, rolling and melding with mine like a distant, approaching storm.

Max drew in a sudden breath between clenched teeth. His fingers tightened around mine. Our hands were trembling.

It didn’t feel the same as it once had, but it was something. And maybe it would be enough. It had to be.

I lifted my other palm. And I whispered to the magic around me as I had a million times before, even though it was more slippery and rebellious than the magic I had wielded.

Still. It responded. Yes. Yes, this would work. I knew it. This had to be the key —

The thing that rolled from my hand was barely even a butterfly. It was, in fact, more like a moth… or a fly. It was weak and shuddering, dissolving into the air before it barely even made it past my eye line. No… I could save it, I could—

I made a final, desperate push.

But then Max drew in a sharp breath and yanked his hand away. My concentration snapped. My weak butterfly dissolved and fell to the earth, disappearing into nothingness before it hit the ground.

I barely saw it. I was just looking at Max, who let out a low hiss as he rubbed his hand. My heart fell.

“I hurt you.”

“It’s fine. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not…” I pulled his hand to me. The shallow slit across his palm was now black and purple. There wasn’t much of it — not enough to spread beyond the very edges of the wound. Still. Too much. This shouldn’t have happened.

A lump rose in my throat.

“I shouldn’t have done this.”

“It’s nothing, Tisaanah. It’s still just a scratch.”

“I don’t care. We are not doing that again.”

He said nothing, his lips pressed together.

I stood and paced, my arms around myself.

“It will come back,” he said, quietly. “Give it time. We’ll find a solution.”

“We do not have time.”They do not have time.

“You can’t rush this. It’s not the sort of thing you can bang your head against until it works. But something will give. You know I’m too cynical to say it if I didn’t believe it was the truth.”

Despite myself, a smile twisted one side of my mouth.Cynical, he calls himself. At first, maybe it was easy to think he was, with his sarcasm and acidic wit. But over time, I realized that Max had never been a cynic. He was a wounded optimist trying desperately to return to his natural state.

I loved that about him. No matter how many times he tried to tell himself otherwise, he truly believed the world could be a better place.

But now, a knot formed in my stomach. I looked over my shoulder and gave him a weak smile, but all I could look at were his hands as he wiped the blood away, and those dark veins trailing up his arms that now seemed so much darker.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Aefe

Iwasn’t sure how long we flew. My blood dripped down, down, onto the treetops far below us. My vision blurred. Every so often, I would blink, and suddenly the sun was higher in the sky. I didn’t remember closing my eyes, but they snapped open again when the branches sliced my cheek and the ground rose up beneath me. Ishqa and I lay there, exhausted. The bolt was still protruding from my back. Every time I breathed, pain slithered through my ribs. I didn’t care.

“No one trailed us.” Ishqa was beside me, but he sounded as if he was very far away.

I blinked and saw Ashraia toppled over, Siobhan’s dying gasps, Caduan falling.

“Get this thing out of me,” I said.

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