Page 111 of Thief of Silver and Souls

If I take the blame, Anya and her crew won’t see any reason to keep up their harassment.

Anya’s eyelids twitch with surprise, but the guard thankfully has no patience for wayward students. He motions briskly to the trio. “Well, get on with your studying or whatever you’re doing here, then. And you, be more careful with the books.”

The pain claws up through my abdomen. My voice shakes just slightly. “Yes, sir.”

Anya and her friends laugh and drift away, tired of their game anyway, but the soldier pauses and squints at me. I set my hand against the shelf next to me, doing my best impression of a woman who doesn’t need the support to hold me up while agony sears through my innards.

The guard lets out a huff and marches off, muttering something about “frivolous bints” under his breath.

I really don’t care what insults he assigns to me, because now I’m alone between the bookshelves again.

The pain spikes through my limbs. My legs wobble and buckle.

I give in to the collapse, sliding against the bookcase. Maybe if I let my body bend to the magic’s whim just a little, it’ll lighten up its attack.

My scars sting as my back bumps its way down across the edges of the shelves. I slump on the rug, my breath coming with a rasp.

Fuck, the pain is still expanding. Because a soldier simplyspoketo me.

My magic rakes its claws into me deeper and deeper, my heart wrenching, my lungs burning. My head reels with the overwhelming ache.

I can’t help wondering if my soul has given up on trying to have a life and decided to tear its broken self apart instead.

I had a cup of pipe fleece tea this morning just for the sake of trying again. Is it possible the stuff is actually making my situation worse?

I’m tossing the rest down the toilet.

Julita’s voice penetrates the haze of my agony vaguely.Ivy! Ivy, what’s going on? You should call for a medic. Oh, this isn’t good.

My fingers brace against the floor. I can’t answer her, can’t do anything else at all.

Then someone says my name from outside my head.

“Ivy!” Alek’s voice is taut as he drops down next to me. “Smite them all, what did those beasts do to you?”

He assumes I’m in this state because of Anya’s harassment. Well, that isn’t completely incorrect.

“No medic,” I mutter through gritted teeth. “It’ll pass. I just need… to wait it out.”

“I don’t know…”

I shudder, and he lets out a choked sound. “Come on, let’s at least get you out of here so you can recover in peace.”

He slips his arm around my back and propels me upright. My feet stumble under me, and my chest hitches with a jolt of deepened pain.

“Just over here,” Alek says. “You can make it.”

The waver in his voice makes his reassurance less than convincing.

I manage to stagger with him to the doorway that leads to the archives. I make it halfway down the steps to the basement before another burst of pain spears through my gut and I nearly pitch forward to tumble to the floor.

At least there’s no one else around to see it. As much as I hate thatAlekis witnessing this attack, he had the right idea getting me out of there.

I’ll have to remember to thank him for his quick thinking when I’m not on the verge of biting my tongue in two.

At my hiss of pain, the scholar curses. Bending down, he wraps his arms around me.

Alek is the slimmest of Julita’s men, but he proves he’s far from a weakling by swinging me up against his chest. His cool, citrusy scent fills my nose.

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