Page 178 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
But Ten doesn’t have time for that. He needs me, and he doesn’t deserve this.
I glance up to where his father is watching the mayhem.
He’s the one in the wrong. He’s the one who banished Ten, and he’s the one who can stop this.
I let my eyes drift closed, and I picture the flow of energy like a river, and I send it out, forcing it and coercing it like a living, breathing thing right at Orion Ciro.
His eyes shoot to me as soon as the first cold coil of my power reaches him, but I won’t be intimidated. I stood up to him whenI had no idea that I even had magic. I’ll not shy away from him now.
That water chills, sharpening like a blade and piercing the barrier Orion holds around his mind, and I make sure that the only thing, the only thought, in mine is that Ten is innocent and he’s made a mistake.
It burrows in, sweeping through the maze of his mind, cleansing any doubt of Ten’s innocence, and I watch as his shoulders drop and his eyes dart to his son, who’s now surrounded and caged by bodies.
He shakes his head when he takes a step forward, and I can see he’s fighting me, mentally pushing and shoving me out. I feel him, a pressure or force against my own.
And then a shift—a snap—and I’m no longer looking at Orion Ciro. I’m no longer standing in front of The Tower, but I still recognise where I am.
There’s been a fight, and I can see hundreds of people with blades and armour and blood. Stars above, so much blood. The area around the gate to The Court is piled with bodies, and the ground is stained scarlet. Flames lick the side walls, burning the camps and homes of those who live outside the walls. Smoke shrouds the area, drifting over and into the forest beyond.
A cold wind like I’ve never felt in Kirrasia, adds to the uncomfortable feeling swamping me.
When did this happen? Is this what’s going to happen? A possible future, like on the battlefield with Ascella?
The smell of copper stuns me, the tang unmistakable, and I lose focus, suddenly pulled further into the vision, deeper until I’m stumbling through the bodies around me. I’m not just looking anymore—I’m here. There are voices. Screams and groans rise around me as I tread careful steps through the aftermath. This isn’t just in Orion’s head. I’m living this.
Just like the snow.
Just likemydeath.
The sound of a horse galloping turns my attention, and I look up to see a shadow through the smoke. As it draws near, a familiar man is riding towards me.
Kalan? Hope rises in my chest, and an ache of longing pulses with the beat of my heart. He can help me. But what’s he doing here? On a horse. Heading right for me. I fling my arms up in the air, hoping he’ll stop, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even notice me as he rides right on past and makes it to the bridge unopposed, and then he’s gone.
But I’m still here amongst the carnage and devastation of whatever occurred.
This isn’t now. It can’t be now. Kalan looked… younger, maybe. So, that would make this a memory—Orion’s memory and not a possible future.
I close my eyes and reach for the well of power in my chest. I don’t want to be here, but not understanding how I came to be here is infuriating, and the panic begins to shake the bedrock holding the well of power at my core.
Calm—I need to be calm. Think clearly. This isn’t real. I’m not in danger. The heels of my hands press against my forehead as I will myself back to the present and out of Orion’s head.
The Court hasn’t been attacked in recent history, right? We’d have studied that in class rather than reading up on strategy, diplomacy, powers, and Triunes.
Aten told me his father was hiding something, and he thought it had to do with my parents. Was this linked? My vision turns fuzzy like I’ve just stood up too quickly, and blood rushes to my head. Pain bites into my knees as I hit the ground, and it takes me a minute to orient myself.
No flames. No blood. I’m back outside The Tower, and Micah’s face is in front of me.
“Get up, Ever. Come on,” he shouts.
My eyes dart to Orion, shouting from his position. Ten’s still surrounded by Warriors, cutting him off from Calix, who’s still trying to reach him. They’re both fighting but getting nowhere. They can’t fight off the whole Warrior Order. And Orion hasn’t rescinded his order.
It didn’t work.
What use am I if I can’t do anything?
The Maker might tell me I can pull power from thin air, but I have no way to control or aim that. A rush of frustration fans my anger like the flames I just witnessed and pushes me to try a different way. I grab hold of Micah’s arm, pull all the strength I can from him and plant my hand on the ground.
Vibrations start and then grow, pulsing outward, stronger than I’ve ever felt before. I see a couple of the men surrounding Ten lose their balance. We just need an edge for Calix?—
