Page 70 of Flight of Fate

“Don’t celebrate just yet.” Because two more Flames have stepped up toward us, and these aren’t holding swords.

Without warning, one of them pierces through my shield with a spear of fire while the other one holds a flask up in front of him, using an attached mechanism to pump some of the liquid inside of it right at my face. A sharp inhale is enough for the sheen of liquid to enter my nose and mouth, and the tasteless, odorless serum is inside my body.

Myron is right there to pull me out of harm’s way, but I shove him back with my magic—while I still can—and watch him stumble into Kaira, who’s still fighting to keep up that shield of fire on her side.

“Drug,” I cough, before my legs become unstable, and I stagger to the side where more Flames are waiting, their blades at the ready and their fireballs hovering at their fingertips.

They got me with that fucking drug. And now my shield is faltering, magic slipping from my grasp like a rubber band snapping back to my center.

“Fight it,”Myron orders through the mind link, his presence reaching through the bond right into the essence of me.“Fight it, Ayna.”

“I can’t hold this much longer.”Kaira’s warning touches the back of my consciousness as I pour every ounce of willpower into holding onto my magic. Even when my power cannot touch the Flames through their armor, the water I’d collected could suffocate them. If I’d thought of that sooner. If I’d tried instead of allowing myself to submit to anger and panic?—

“Breathe, Ayna. Don’t give in.”Myron’s voice rings through me like a command.“Promise me.”

I can’t.

Because my strength is fading alongside my magic, and all I can think of is to lie down and close my eyes.

“Ayna!” Myron’s voice is no longer in my mind, his hands locking around my biceps as he drags me against his chest, preventing me from toppling over. He slides one arm under my shoulders, tucking me to his side as his power circles us in a swirl of black and silver. “Stay with me.”

Nodding at him, I will strength into my legs. This was a small amount of the drug. Even if it went right into my system, I’m not feeling the nausea yet.

Perhaps this is theimprovedserum Erina spoke about. The thought alone brings on a wave of despair.

“Kaira,”I try through the mind link, but silence is all I get, so I whisper her name, unable to find her in my field of vision.

“Still fighting,” Myron reassures me, blocking another volley of fireballs with his shield. The ground trembles as he locks his knees against the force of it.

“Focus on yourself, Ayna,” Kaira orders from behind me, and my body instantly feels lighter with the relief of knowing she’s alive. “You still have your daggers to work with.”

I do. And Myron and Kaira both haven’t given up, so I won’t either.

Clutching my daggers with everything I have, I push a step away from Myron, bracing my feet apart against the relentless pull of my body toward the ground.

Fight, I tell myself. Because no goddess or god is pushing me to do so. I need to fight. If I don’t, Myron and Kaira will both die. If I don’t, Shaelak’s bargain will be fulfilled. If I don’t, I will be at Ephegos’s mercy.

Another spear of fire tears through the shield, and a scream erupts from my throat as the tip burns through the leathers at my shoulder, right at the edge of my collarbone. Myron’s head snaps toward me, his all-black eyes locking on mine, and I notice how similar he looks to the monstrous king I was first sold to. Black veins creep around his eyes, branching out like spider legs, and for a moment, he appears surreal, like a beautiful, dangerous creature from fairytales. Then, he is. And if the wrath on his features is anything to go by, the end of the world is nigh.

The moment passes as the smell of my own blood drenches the air, and the pain catches up with my senses.

It hurts like the burn and stab wound it is, the agony lancing down my arm and up my neck from where the spear pierced into me.

“It’s not deep,” I pant between my teeth.At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Neither Myron nor Kaira believe me because they’re both at my side, Myron’s healing magic seeping into me while Kaira draws the shield of fire more tightly around her back while she extends it around us.

“Save your magic, King.” Kaira’s reminder that his power won’t do much to a body laced with the magic-nullifying drug doesn’t keep Myron from trying, though. The way he’ll always try anything to save me.

“Stop fighting,” Ephegos orders from too close by, making all of us whirl to the side where three Flames are stepping aside to let their leader pass through.

My body is weak and my pulse too fast as I will myself to remain on my feet, daggers firmly in my grasp. Beside me, Myron’s magic is whirling toward the voice, silver and black braiding into a rope he’s ready to throw around Ephegos’s neck while Kaira keeps pushing the shield to its limits to protect us all.

“There’s no escape for you.” Ephegos ignores Kaira’s curses as the Fire Fairies shove against her shield, his gaze remaining locked on Myron. With a wave of his hand, the three Flames flanking him set into motion, burning spears in their hands and that armor on their bodies that will prevent us from using our only advantage—well, no longer mine. Myron and Kaira are the only ones left with their magic.

My palms are sweaty from the effort of fighting the drug, but at least, I’m not nauseated or falling asleep. I’m weak but wide awake, every breath allowing my focus to sharpen even when I have nothing to hurl at my enemies.

Or do I?

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