Page 127 of Forged in Flame and Shadow

“Well, we’ve got it. Let’s not stand around scratching our asses,” Eryx says. “Leon’s sensic magic will only last so long.”

I fling the books back onto the shelves with my magic, and we exit the room, making our way quickly and quietly down the aisle toward the sanctuary door.

“What are you doing?”

I freeze, and so does the blood in my veins, because I recognize the voice.

Sophos.

The bearer is coming up the aisle toward us, frowning. At the moment, I’m shielded behind Alastor and Eryx, but the moment he sees my face, all gloam will break loose.

“Why aren’t you praying with the others?” he demands.

“Erm…” Alastor stalls, and I glance at the acolytes, surprised no one’s been startled out of their trance. Then I recall Sophos’s aesteri power and realize he must have a bubble of silence around us so as not to disturb them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sophos says. “There’s an attack on the northern wall. We need to gather as many senior clerics as possible to get down there and?—”

Four feet from Alastor and Eryx, he stops. I risk peering between their shoulders to see suspicion flooding Sophos’s features. I don’t know if he’s noticed the fae’s glamours or recognized them from Otscold. Either way, Eryx and Alastor see his expression too and immediately reach for the blades beneath their robes.

Eryx manages to draw his before Sophos attacks, but he’s still too late. He screams, dropping his sword and clapping his hands over his ears as blood starts to leak from them. I know that magic—Sophos has used it on me before. And as Eryx falls to his knees, I realize it also means the bubble of silence around us is gone.

A dozen acolytes snap their heads around toward us, ripped from their trance by Eryx’s scream. Shouts of warning ripple through the nearest rows, and when I look back toward Alastor, he’s lunging at Sophos with his blade. The bearer is forced todance backward. I shove the codex under my arm, readying my sun beam power with one hand, reaching out to grab Eryx under the shoulder with another.

But he’s not there.

Instead, an acolyte stands in front of me, a dark-haired girl holding Eryx’s dropped sword. The blade is covered in blood. Eryx lies on the floor in front of her, blood welling from his throat. He frowns up at the girl, confusion on his face, and whispers something that sounds like a name. Then his eyes fall closed, and he goes still.

I rip the sword out of the acolyte’s hand with my orbital magic, smashing the pommel against her temple as it flies past. She goes down, stunned, and instinctively I reach for Eryx’s celestial flame.

I know I can’t heal him from a wound like this. I know it’s not within my power to save him. And yet I still try. When I find nothing left inside him—not a flicker or spark—only endless darkness, something inside me breaks.

I flood my magic into my veins until they’re coursing with heat and spin around.

“Alastor!” I scream. “Duck!”

The blond fae is still swinging his sword after Sophos, but he throws himself to the ground without hesitation. I release twin blasts of sunlight from my hands, golden rays exploding from my palms. They sear across the sanctuary, glancing off Sophos’s robes as he spins away.

When the sun beams hit the end wall, they burrow into the stone, leaving two smoking craters.

An acolyte in the aisle beside me lifts a shaking hand, his eyes wide with horror as he points at me.

“Heretic!” he screeches. “Solari abomination!”

Chapter 39

Morgana

The acolyte’s cry catches on, shouts about celestial magic rippling through the hall as children and teens jostle to see what’s happening. Soon one of them will be as bold as the dark-haired girl who murdered Eryx, and I don’t want to stick around to find out which one of them it will be. Not when this room is filled with hundreds of twin-blessed true believers looking to prove themselves to the bearer now getting to his feet five yards away.

I sprint down the aisle, grabbing hold of Alastor and yanking him toward the exit. My eyes meet Sophos’s for a second as we run past. Itisjust a second, but it’s enough for me to be baffled by what I see there—not hate or fear like last time, but something stranger.

I’m disappointed to note that my sun beams only burned a hole through his voluminous robes rather than causing any bodily damage. Next time, when I’m not blinded by rage and grief, my aim will be better. But I have to live long enough for there to be a next time.

We stumble out of the sanctuary into the complex, struggling to orient ourselves. We have to get back to the wall we came in over, but the thud of hundreds of people climbing to their feet in the building behind us tells me that won’t be easy.

“Hyllus, we need that diversion,” I call, praying to the gods that the fae is still alive and that he can hear our message.

“We better move before we have company,” Alastor says.

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