Page 148 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

My vision swims and shifts, and I stumble, landing on my hands and knees again. The impact jars my body and intensifies my headache. I’m violently ill, not that my stomach contained much that could make a reappearance.

This is bad, really bad.

I must have hit my head. I know the signs and have had a concussion before.

I close my eyes, but that makes the dizziness worse.

Think, Ara, think.

Fire crackles and hisses around me, the heat and smoke making it hard to breathe.

I have to get out of here.

Tate’s face flashes before my eyes, my brothers’, and those of my friends.

I close my eyes again, concentrating on the magic around me. If someone gifted is close, I should be able to find them.

Ghostlike veils of magic shift around me, fueling the flames. I stretch farther and farther until it feels like my awareness will snap back at any second because I stretched too far. I reach out just a little more, and there, a small flicker. No… more than one, and one of them I recognize—Tate.

If I reach him, I’ll be fine.

I zero in on him and him alone, and then I start walking. My slow progress is made even slower since I can’t walk in a straight line. Burning bushes and trees make me take detours again and again.

The flames around me are mostly violet and blue, but there are some in gold and orange as well. The heat of the magical flames probably ignited the other ones.

I wrap my curse around me, and while it does nothing against natural flames, it protects me from the magical fire. I pull the coolness around me, making sure it coats me from the soles of my feet to the tip of my braid.

My skin already bears witness to the heat. It’s red and tender to the touch. The heat intensifies the burn. My throat and eyes are raw like someone washed them with sand, and my head pounds in rhythm with my frantic heartbeat.

I’m shaking. It’s just a small tremor, but combined with the exhaustion washing over me, it can’t mean anything good. I have never used my curse for such a long period, and I’m not sure what will happen if I do. But I can’t let it go before I’m out of here. I shudder at the thought of flames devouring me alive.

Some small parts of my skin are slick with sweat, but the moisture evaporates nearly faster than I can build it. The stifling heat seems to get worse by the minute.

My walk is unsteady, more of a stagger really, and if it hadn’t been for Tate, I would have lost my orientation long ago. I stumble on past flaming walls and the fiery remains of a once proud forest.

If I reach him, I’m safe.

Repeating it over and over keeps me going, but my progress becomes slower and slower.

I’m so focused on the shimmering warmth of Tate’s power that I nearly miss the magic signature coming from behind. It’s spunky and sparkly, and it's so much more than anything I've felt before. No… I have encountered magic as mighty as this before, I realize, but only once—the dragon. This one feels different, though.

I whirl around, but I’m only met by more flames.

What is that?

I stumble, curse, and nearly go down, my shield slipping for a second, which earns me a burn on my right leg. I hiss.

Who am I kidding? I will never get out of here alive.

“Don’t you dare give up now! Not after I chose you,”a voice thunders. It’s male, demanding, and shooting through me like a golden flame, surrounding me, caressing me, igniting a spark in my center right next to the scrap of coolness that becomes steadily less.

There is a presence next to me, above me, surrounding me, burrowing deep into me where it mingles with my very existence.

I cry out as the sensations flood me. My already unsteady view splits up, my mind jumping back and forth between the sight in front of me and another one.

A blackened, half-naked woman wobbles, her skin reddened and blistered. She looks around, then up, blue-green eyes glowing in a soot-smeared face, the mouth agape in shock.

That’s me.

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