Page 66 of Flight of Fate

“Tighten your shields,” Myron orders, moving closer to my side, luring his opponent to follow before he runs him through with his blade. With one efficient stab, he cuts clean through the chest armor made of gray leather. Another soldier takes his place the second he drops to the ground, and this one is equipped with two sabers of white-hot fire.

“Shit,” Pouly’s curse is a whisper at my back, and we all realize that, even though we’ve neutralized a good third of our opponents, those first ones were merely to wear us down. The real threat is lingering at the back of the rows, and each man who falls gets replaced by one more powerful.

Ducking away from the soldier aiming at me, I shift in front of Myron, silver power drawing to the surface. As long as no one uses that Guardiansdamned drug on me, I can use my magic to meet the Flame’s burning blades. Drawing upon the well of power inside me, I pull up a wall of silver power, sending it to encircle the humans at the center of our group like a shield of translucent, liquid metal.

The soldiers around us slow their attack, halting as if giving us a moment to breathe before bestowing upon us an all-crushing assault.

“Get out of the way,” Myron hisses into my ear, stepping around my shoulder so he’s right next to me, an inch closer to the enemy than I can stand.

I shake my head in defiance, lifting my own daggers and coating them with my Crow-silver power to meet the fiery weapons of the Flame as he raises the fire sabers above his head, aiming to strike.

“Ayna—” Myron’s warning growl is lost in the thundering shout from the back of the rows.

“Hold!”

Ice slides down my back at the sound of that voice. A familiar, cultivated voice that has starred in my nightmares ever since I woke helpless and weak in the Fire Fairies’ residence in the borderlands. A voice who’s given orders to torture me. Who’s summoned the God of Darkness to make a deal with him.

“Ephegos—” I spit his name, holding onto the strength and anger Tata’s betrayal instilled in me.

Don’t show weakness,I tell myself.Don’t revert to the naive, human Ayna who trusted Ephegos. You’re strong. You’re immortal. You’re powerful.

It doesn’t matter what I tell myself. When the rows of soldiers stand down and form a corridor for the traitor Crow, my knees go weak, and my pulse flutters with panic.

“We need to attack before he can give the order to kill us all,”I speak into the mind link I hope Kaira is still keeping up within our little group.

Myron’s chin dips the tiniest bit, but I know he heard me.

“I could try to freeze their blades over so they break more easily,”Clio’s voice enters my head, and I almost do a double take as Andraya cautions her.“If their weapons are coated with the drug, you’ll only drain your magic.”

“It’s worth a try. None of you has lost your powers, even though you all suffered a cut here and there,”Pouly joins theconversation, and I realize only now the throbbing ache on my forearm where a blade sliced through my sleeve just above my wrist. It’s a small injury but deep enough to let the drug enter my bloodstream had the blade cutting me been coated in the damned serum.

I hear them all. Kaira, Clio, Andraya, Pouly, and Myron’s grumble of,“Just because there was no serum on that particular blade doesn’t mean there won’t be on others. You don’t honestly think Ephegos left one thing to coincidence. He’s planned this all out. Tata must have told him we’re coming—might have already been steering us toward this moment for weeks—and Ephegos set the trap.”

How Kaira managed to make the mind link omnidirectional I have no time to consider as Myron’s words sink in.

A trap. Not Tata’s trap but Ephegos’s. Tata, Ephegos’s minion.

“It’s been a while, Wolayna,” Ephegos drawls, oblivious to the conversation going on outside his reach, and like a ghost materializes in the haze engulfing the clearing. Clad in the same gray leather armor, he could have been just another soldier, but that gait—slow, deliberate, proud, sleek. I recognize him even before he pulls off the gray headpiece to reveal that too-warm and welcoming face. The mask of the diplomat he’s perfected and is wearing like an armor of its own. “You look rather”—he tilts his head, rye blond hair shifting over his shoulders—“different. Not in a bad way, don’t get me wrong.” With elegant strides, he marches closer, and my magic tingles to lash out.

“Careful, Ayna. He’s planned something. Save your strength.”Myron’s warning leashes the tossing power to a straining force simmering beneath my skin—except for that liquid metal shield around the two humans in our midst.

“We need to get Andraya and Pouly out of here,”I hiss into the mind link.“Clio, can you do it?”

“We won’t abandon you,”both the rebels object.

“Neither will I,”Clio agrees, sending a fuzzy sense of warmth through my chest that I’ve learned to recognize as our bond of friendship.

“And Myron,” Ephegos continues, halting a good ten feet away from us, framed by his men, all of whom are sporting fire sabers or fireballs in their hands, ready to launch their magic at us should we even consider attacking. “What a lucky male you are.”

My magic strains against my grasp as Myron tenses beside me, bracing for a blow of words rather than one of a blade or of magic. Guardians, how I want to hurl that power right at the traitor Crow. How I want to rip him to shreds. But the small army of Flames surrounding him is now directing their own magic right at us. One wrong move and we’ll be roasted.

“I could siphon their power if they shoot at us,”Kaira suggests, obviously fully aware of the scenes of doom circling in my mind.

“And burn yourself out? I don’t think so,”Clio jumps in before I can.“You’ve barely tested the limits of your ability.”

“He wants you to ask why?”Pouly nudges, and I only understand he’s talking to Myron when the latter shifts uncomfortably, arm brushing against mine in a gesture of comfort.

We’re both here. We’re alive. We can get out of this. He doesn’t need to share that thought through the mind link; the sentiment is flowing through the bond like crystal clear liquid.

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