Page 87 of Fated In Forever
Not that I was doing a lot, but feeding little bursts of magic into the gaping hole kept the spillage to a minimum, which gave Fiona more time to deal with the ley line, and Blake and Riordan more time to shore up the mountain beneath us, and Nikolai more time to…peruse.
The sky rumbled, I swallowed hard, shadows drifting down over me like a cold waterfall. My fingers burned, my arms ached, and there was a jagged emptiness at my core, but I was pacing myself.Tryingto pace myself, even though I was definitely scraping up the very dredges of my magic.
Where I used to have a deep, dark pool of magic, a virtual bottomless pit of darkness, there was nothing left. My power wasn’t refilling like it should, but I was exhausted, I hadn’t fed, could barely breathe…there were a thousand reasons for my weakness. Besides, everyone else was pulling their own weight, and I couldn’t let them down.
But after this, I’d go back to Ireland, sleep for twelve hours solid, spend a few hours making love with Blake and Riordan, then sleep some more. The rift pulsed again, darkness bleeding from the gaping hole, thick and slow like ink dripped in water.
Those shadows spilled over me, a weighty cold blanket, and the crusted ozone reek stung my nose before they flowed across the stone floor of the Keep.
I sighed and reached for my nonexistent magic.
Scraped enough together to make a difference, then pushed a handful of shadows upward, the sky above me rumbling, like a storm about to let loose. My stomach cramped, my knees nearly buckled, then Blake was there, catching me with one strong arm around my waist, while I poured everything I had left into stabilizing the rift.
“You told me you were pacing yourself, that you werefine,” he grumbled accusingly, steadying me, his fingers digging in as I sagged against him, closing my eyes against the burnout. “Evie, is everything okay?”
“Fine,” I slurred, because my mouth wasn’t working right. In fact, nothing seemed to be working right. “Give me a minute, I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, so you keep saying,” he grumbled, firming his grip until he was the only thing holding me up.
Above us, the rift quieted, and the darkness lightened, the edges of the rift pulling back together.
“That’s enough,” Blake hissed, his voice tight. “You’re done for the night, and for tomorrow. Let Nikolai take a crack at it when the sun comes up. Hang on to me while I…”
I’d barely wrapped my fingers around his shoulder when my vision blurred, then narrowed. The ground tipped, and I didn’t think it was because the mountain was falling.
“Blake,” I said, or maybe I didn’t say his name out loud. My lips were numb. My legs gave out.
He caught me, pulling me into his arms. “You’re finished for today. You’ve done enough.”
Riordan appeared, his expression a mask of cold urgency. Then Nikolai, his golden eyes flicking over me. “She’s been too close to the rift for too long,” he said sharply. “The darkness is poisoning her.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but all that came out was a garbled whisper. “I can?—”
“No.” Blake’s tone brooked no argument, and I couldn’t make one, anyway. He turned to Nikolai. “I’m taking her back to the castle, I’m assuming there’s a healer available?”
There was some indistinct muttering about healers and dematerializing while injured, and then Nikolai—”Get her out of here. She needs to put some distance between her and the ruins.”
Blake didn’t hesitate. He lifted me effortlessly, wrapping me up in his arms like he’d never let go.
“I’ll come back,” I rasped, clinging to consciousness.
“Just…stop talking, Evie,” Blake pressed his forehead to mine. “You’re not coming back here, not for a long while.” The world blurred again, shadows clawing at the edge of my vision. But I felt his arms around me, warm and real.
And I let go.
40
MALACHI
The river never stopped roaring, but that constant tumble of rushing current was a comforting sound these days. Familiar, even, since I’d lost count of how many times I’d made this crossing.
The obsidian boat cut through the whitecapped waves like a glass knife, guided not by oar or wind but by a chain and an iron will.
Myiron will.
I sat in the seat and kept the chain taut, back muscles straining as I drew the links through the open mouth of the keel end gargoyle, the familiarclank, clank, clankas they slid through that hole a constant chime that would continue until we reached the dark, far-off shore.
The boat was filled to brimming with my precious, glowing cargo, and as soon as I hauled the boat up onto the sand, they would float off into the dark nothingness.
