Page 88 of The Moon's Fury
Layna flinched, and the humming in her ears pulsed louder, desperate to be unleashed.
A low, menacing growl was the only warning before a dagger flew past her head, setting her hair aflutter, and into the offending man’s neck. Bright blood spurted, dripping down the man’s throat, eyes wide and panicked like a frightened horse. Heclawed at his neck, struggling to breathe. His knees buckled, and he fell to the floor.
Dhil looked unfazed, glancing down at the body with disdain. “He asked for that. There’s no need to be crude.”
“Dhil—”
“Enough. I’ve enjoyed our reunion, but let’s not waste any more time.” He whistled sharply, cold eyes drilling into Zarian.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind them, and Layna turned to see a dozen more men close in. Her light responded instinctively, flowing to her hands until they began to glow. She raised her palms, aiming them at the men—
Dhiltsked. “Put those away.”
She ignored him, raising her hands higher.
But then one of the men held his sword to Zarian’s neck.
Teeth clenched, she lowered her hands.
The men herded them into a large room. At every opportunity, one of the Medjai would shove Zarian, pushing him forward. Inside, there were tall, stained-glass windows lining the walls. The room might have been used for formal balls years ago, but now it stood empty, save for a long, wooden table on one side.
“This doesn’t have to be difficult,” Dhil said. “Come with us. Quietly. The elders instructed us to kill you on sight. They said you’re dangerous, volatile. A threat to the balance.” He regarded her now, appraising eyes lingering on her hands. “But it seems youareable to control your powers. I’m sure there’s much we can learn. It won’t be pleasant, but—”
Zarian flew, twin daggers in hand. Dhil’s eyes widened with surprise.
That was Layna’s cue.
Brandishing her light, she shot fiery blasts at anyone and everyone in her vicinity. The men gave her a wide berth, and she used it to her advantage.
Get your back to a wall.
Zarian’s instructions rang out in her mind, and she walked backward, glowing palms firing flickering beams at her attackers, until her back pressed against a wall.
Her mother and grandfather stared at her, frozen in shock. Then, Hadiyah grabbed Dharaid’s arm, and they ran behind the table for cover. Layna’s eyes darted to Zarian—he was a shadow of metal and leather and strength. Dhil lay dead on the floor, blood seeping from twin wounds on his neck. Two more men quickly followed him. It seemed one of the Medjai, a tall, brawny man with long, dark hair, had changed sides and was fighting alongside Zarian. The two men stood back against back, a raging flurry of steel and muscle, encircled by nearly ten men.
She refocused on the eight approaching her. One flung a dagger, and it buried into her shoulder. She cried out sharply, and Zarian’s head snapped toward her, but he was forced to quickly turn to dodge his opponent’s blade.
Teeth gritted against the pain, she directed more light to her palms—she was unpracticed in battle with her light, but controlling the bold, pulsing beam came easily enough. She kept her hands moving, creating a wall of light in front of her. With one hand, she shot a thick beam at the man closest to her, and he flew backwards, the skin on his chest sickeningly charred and melded with the leather of his baldric. Two more daggers headed toward her, but she deflected them with sharp blasts of light.
Rage burned within her, hot and bright.
These men would kill her and Zarian.
They would keep her mother and grandfather on a leash, animals to serve their whims. They’d likely hunt down her sister and murder her in cold blood, too. They’d destroy the continent in their efforts to control it.
She’d burn them all.
Layna killed another man, shooting a powerful beam into his face. He fell, his features smoldering and unrecognizable. A pained cry escaped her as she yanked the dagger from her shoulder, quickly healing the wound.
As hot fury writhed within her, her light grew stronger along with it. Another man approached her, footsteps hesitant. His fear sent dark satisfaction swirling through her. He leveled a crossbow at her, but she easily deflected it with a burst from her fingertips. She fired a cable of light at his throat, and he clutched his neck, eyes wide in shock as his skin sizzled. She directed the beam upwards and watched as his face melted away.
She set her eyes on the next man when a voice rang out from the other side of the hall.
“Enough!” the man yelled, panicked eyes darting around frantically.
Her heart stopped.
The man forced her mother in front of him, dagger at her throat. Hadiyah struggled fiercely in his grasp, twisting her head. A thin line of blood welled from her neck.
