Page 20 of The Ascended
"Father, no!" I screamed. "Don't you dare! Don't you?—"
The world tilted sideways. My vision blurred, edges going dark and strange. My ears began to ring, a high whining sound that drowned out everything else.
Through the haze, I saw the blade begin its descent. Saw Sulien's peaceful expression in the firelight. Saw Thatcher struggling against his bonds, his mouth open in a cry I couldn't hear.
I tried to reach for the stars above us, tried to bring them crashing down, but there was no spark of my power left. My sight was failing, the whistling in my ears becoming a roar that swallowed everything.
The last thing I saw was the blade reflecting the firelight as it fell toward the man who had raised me, loved me and protected me for twenty-six years.
Then darkness took me, merciful and complete, stealing away the sight of my father's blood and the sound of my brother's screams.
Chapter 5
The Proving Grounds
The cold creptinto my bones first. Then the smell—damp stone and rot.
I doubled over and retched onto the floor, my body rejecting the horror even as my mind couldn't escape it. But there was nothing left in my stomach except bile and the taste of copper.
It's my fault.
The thought crashed through me with such force that I gasped, my forehead striking the cold stone as I curled in on myself. If I'd been more careful. If I hadn't lost control that night. If I'd just stayed home. If I’d allowed them to take Marel.
He's dead. He's dead because of me.
My father is dead.
The words didn't feel real. Couldn't be real. Sulien was supposed to be at home right now, stoking the morning fire, preparing nets for the day's work. He was supposed to grow old and gray.
You should have stepped forward immediately.The voice in my head wouldn't stop.As soon as they asked. You hesitated. You're a coward.
Too late. Always too late.
Sulien's last words echoed in the darkness.I love you both. Remember that. Always remember that.
But what was I supposed to remember? That he'd loved a daughter who got him killed? That his final moments had been spent watching the priests drag away the children he'd died trying to protect? That the last thing he ever saw was his family being torn apart?
I pressed my hands against my eyes until spots danced behind my lids. But even that pain was nothing compared to the image burned into my memory—Sulien, kneeling by the fire. The resolution on his face. The way his blood had looked black against the sand.
The way he'd smiled at us, even then. Even as he died.
Thatcher.
I reached out through our bond, searching desperately for his presence.
There was nothing.
He must be shutting me out. Building walls between us that had never existed before.
And maybe that was for the best. Maybe he finally understood what I'd always known—that I was a poison.
Soon they would come for Thatcher. They would drag him out of whatever hole they'd thrown him into, and they would demand that he demonstrate powers he'd never possessed.
What if he died too?
Because of me.
My stomach dropped and twisted, cramping so hard I doubled over again.
