Page 24 of Amethyst and Iron
“Sylas,” I breathed.
In the next second, I spun around as I felt another massive surge of magic—this one rocking the ground beneath my feet.
And there was a shimmering red tear in the fabric of the Veil, a massive one that could be easily passed through.
Holy hell.
Through the light, I could see back into the living.
There Sylas was standing within a magical red dome with my body, bellowing that incantation I’d just heard as he’d ripped into the place in two ways—with the wall, now this tear as well.
The shrieks intensified, and then hundreds of figures rushed the wall, slamming into it, impacting it, hurting it, trying to get to me, to keep me here.
I turned back and watched Sylas stumbling in the world of the living.
Then he steeled himself and ripped into his wrists with two strikes of his own power.
I choked as blood literally started pouring from them.
He was killing himself.
No. No. No.
I shoved myself toward the tear, fighting against powerful winds trying to keep me from moving forward, wanting to drag me back to the wall—and beyond.
And that was when I saw Sylas wasn’t alone.
Just outside the dome stood Lazriel and Cassius. Warlow was with them and chewing on his knuckles as he watched Cornelius clutch Kai Hunter’s hand and allow him to channel his power into the dome.
Kai’s magic started spreading all over it, trying to take control of the spell, to override Sylas.
Lazriel yelled in a mixture of rage and agony for Sylas to stop his spell, to find another way—one that didn’t involve him dying too.
But it was clear to me from my vantage point that Sylas couldn’t register any of them currently. He wasn’t fully there. He was between life and death, much like me, all the while his magic reached into this place.
I leapt toward the tear.
Spirits slammed into me, knocking me back.
Just as I managed to catch my footing, they surrounded me, then moved in closer and closer, so many of them.
Within moments, they were swirling around me like a tornado of painful motion, the force of the rushing making it impossible for me to remain standing.
I was ripped off my feet and with a grunt I landed on my stomach.
I felt them clutching my legs, pulling me backward.
I dug my nails into the strange ground, a scream ripping from my throat.
And then something grasped my right wrist.
I shot my head up to see it was a shimmering magical red hand.
It started pulling me toward the tear, fighting against the spirits.
Adrenaline thrummed through me as the tug of war became immense, too close, sending both burning heat and a chill through me all at once.
I heard a roar outside in the land of the living.
