Page 130 of Forged in Flame and Shadow

That must’ve tempted Caledon. A deep well of celestial magic, waiting somewhere for him to drain away. He couldn’t resist it, not knowing that the object he sought was me.

Except…Harman said Caledon had stopped looking. That he’d found what he needed. Maybe once Sophos told him I was a solari, it all became clear to him? My mind goes to the library at the Lyceum, Caledon’s black presence staring out at me from Parvus’s eyes.

He didn’t want me dead because Caledon knew I was the subject of the prophecy—the source of celestial power he wanted to claim for himself.

I reach out to touch the words, wondering if they can actually be real. The black ink swims before my eyes.

Just as my skin brushes the paper, the fizz of magic fills the air. I look around for the source, only to find it seems to be coming from the book itself.

The pages rustle, though there’s no breeze, and I immediately shout for the rebels as the codex starts to violently shake in my hands. Hard as I try, I can’t let go. Whatever magic is emanating from the book is wrapping itself around me, binding me to it.

Trap. It was all a trap.

The rebels run into the room. I just have time to meet their eyes before a powerful pulse throbs through me and my vision goes black.

Chapter 40

Leon

For a few, terrible moments, pain pierces my mind. High-pitched and sharp as a knife lancing through my ears. It punctures every thought except for my focus on Sophos’s malevolent stare. He must be responsible for this agony.

Then something overtakes it, drowning out the sound stabbing at my brain—Hyllus’s voice, soft and encouraging.

“Don’t worry, captain, I can block his magic. Just make sure you get the bastard.”

A gentle melody plays in my ears as I tighten the hand on my sword, regaining control of myself. Sophos still stalks toward me, holding his blade low, but he pauses when he sees me smile at him.

“I’m afraid we’re a bit used to your tricks by now,” I say and lunge at him.

He’s surprisingly fast for a human, graceful too, parrying and attempting strikes with impressive precision. He’s practiced—but not experienced. That much is obvious when I surprise him with a block that allows me to spin my sword around and jab himin the chest with the pommel. He goes stumbling backward, and I step back from his flailing blade.

“Come on,” I call after him, almost starting to enjoy myself. “You’d think you’d do a bit better with the gods on your side, wouldn’t you?”

His face twists in anger, and he charges at me. But I’m ready. As we clash, I let the metal of my blade slide along the shaft of his sword and catch against the handle. It throws his grip off balance, and as he tries to straighten, I bring my sword swinging down, connecting with his wrist.

His hand hits the grass with a wet thud, and Sophos screams, staring down at the bleeding stump like he can’t quite believe it.

“There’s more,” Hyllus’s voice rings in my ears as I kick the bearer’s sword away. “The acolytes are here.”

I look up to see a crowd of yellow-robed acolytes chasing after the retreating rebels, picking them off with their dual powers. It’ll quickly become a bloodbath unless the rebels have someone to cover them—or at least to make the ground dangerous enough for the acolytes to stop their magical attacks.

My distraction is enough for Sophos. When I glance his way, he’s sprinting back toward Bastion, just a glimpse of red robe disappearing round the corner.

At least I got a piece of him, I think grimly, turning away from the pale hand lying abandoned on the ground.

Sprinting after the acolytes and rebels, I reach my magic into the earth. Its tendrils stretch out, burrowing into the cracks of the grassland, forming a band between the members of the Hand and the Temple.

I smile again as the ground begins to shake.

Kestis looks like any old town in the moonlight. I suppose that’s why the rebels picked it, and I find myself wondering exactly how many bases and safehouses they have planted in inconspicuous places across the country. Enough to wage a small war against the Temple and not be wiped out, I suppose.

It’s actually pretty impressive. I think maybe I’m warming to them after I saved so many of their lives tonight.

My power was enough to slow the Temple down at Bastion, and most of the rebels made it out of the valley. The problem was that the Temple sent in hunting parties after them, and my soldiers and I had to help them evade more clerics before we could safely make our way to the rendezvous point.

On the way we found Alastor, blind with worry, wondering why we weren’t back by now. He settled down once we were reunited and Hyllus and Mal assured him that Harman’s wrecked shoulder wouldn’t kill him. I’m not sure what I unleashed when I asked my friend to get to know the rebel leader, but that question was quickly overtaken by his news about Eryx.

Eryx—that wonderful, cantankerous man. I saw Damia, in particular, fight to hide her tears, her serpent Barb winding comfortingly around her arm. The pair had bonded in their cynicism, both hardened by a world that had taken too much from them early in life.

---