Page 129 of Tower of Tempest
The bolt lay there, glowing so bright I had to shade my eyes, power oozing from it.
“Bloody fucking earth,” Driscoll said from below.
“Is that...?” my father asked, awe in his voice.
“We did it.” I couldn’t believe it. We’d actually found it. And now we could keep it safe, hidden from Spirit Shadow.
With a trembling hand, I reached inside and pulled the bolt out, itsmagic flowing through my veins, sizzling in my blood, as if to say“Use me.”
I lowered to the ground, holding it as it crackled and popped, somehow not burning me. Maybe because the very same power it held flowed through me.
My father stepped forward. “How did you find this?”
“It’s real,” Saestra breathed, the light from it reflecting in her eyes.
“It’s amazing,” Loch said. “A weapon forged by a spirit. Holy shit.”
“You’re not going to, like, accidentally shoot that off or anything, right?” Driscoll laughed nervously.
Something odd happened, my hands growing hot. Hotter. So hot they began to burn. Ash crackled over my skin, a thin layer of it sizzling and covering my fingers, my skin blistering.
“What is that?” Loch reached for me, but I snatched my hand closer to my chest. I didn’t need him getting hurt again.
My father stepped forward, and Sastra’s face paled while Driscoll and Leoni watched helpless, unsure what to do.
“I don’t know,” I said, panic making my pulse spike. The hairs rose on the back of my neck as the ashy fire spread farther down my arms. I gasped in pain, and the bolt slipped from my grasp.
We all watched as it fell toward the ground. Before it could hit, a rope made of smoke and fire lashed out, gripping the bolt and reeling back, bringing the weapon right into the hands of a cloaked stranger who stepped from the wildflowers. The fiery rope disappeared from his hands. Fire magic. He was from the fire court.
“Thank you.” His voice was deep, and though the hood he wore masked his features, a glimpse of light brown skin peeked out. “I finally figured out the bolt’s location myself, though I didn’t know exactly where in the tower it was. Luckily, you fine folks solved that for me.”
“No,” I said, summoning wind, but he waved the bolt in the air and it crackled with a warning, sparks shooting from it.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, and my magic died down. “I hold the power of Spirit Sky, after all. I could smite you all right here.”
“Then why don’t you?” Loch asked.
“I’m not the smiting type. Not unless I have to be. More of a curious soul. I’ve been looking for this for a long time.”
My father stepped forward. “You won’t get away with this. We will find you and seek retribution. You’ll have the full force of the sky court after you.”
“Good luck with that,” he said.
A curious soul. “You’re the bone collector.” Emory’s rival. Who else would be searching for the bolt?
He stilled, and I could tell I’d caught him off guard. “How do you know that name?” He swore under his breath. “Ah. You’ve been speaking to the white rabbit. She’s a pain in my ass, but she also lost our little game.” He held up the bolt triumphantly.
I exchanged confused glances with Driscoll, Leoni, and Loch, while my father and Saestra looked completely lost. I didn’t know of this white rabbit.
“The white rabbit?” Driscoll snorted. “What a terrible nickname. You get to be the bone collector while your rival is the white rabbit?”
“She’s called the white rabbit in the frost and sky court because she wears a white fur cloak when she steals artifacts and relics—that’s all anyone has been able to identify her by.”
A memory flashed: one of a white fur cloak. Emory had been wearing one when she’d rescued us in the carriage. Spirits below. She’d made it sound like this was some little hobby, not something that had earned her a nickname, a notoriety among the northern courts.
“What do you want with the bolt?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.
He tsked. “That’s not for you to worry about.” He slowly began backing into the wildflowers.
