Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Misha hoists a child onto each shoulder, and Leta grabs a small girl from the bed closest to the door. Together, we run toward the exit.
Outside is pure chaos. Blazing balls of fire fly through the sky, turning thatched straw roofs into kindling. People scream and run in every direction, trying to escape the fires that seem to be everywhere. White-bodied water fae emerge from the river and redirect the water, blasting streams onto the burning homes. One stops to douse the flames that are burning a young merchant’s dress. The merchant drops to her knees, wet and sobbing.
“The infirmary,” I shout to a water fae who’s emerged from her river home, her iridescent scales glistening. “Can you work to control the fire there while we get the children out?”
She doesn’t bother to answer but goes running toward the building, running on webbed feet as she whistles for others to follow.
“Over here!” a woman calls, throwing her arms out. A shimmering dome the size of a small house snaps up around her. “The fire can’t penetrate this shield.”
I shift the child in my arms and head toward the dome. “Can you hold it?” I ask the faerie who’s inside.
She nods. “I’ll try.”
I lower the child to the ground inside her shield and turn back for another.
Someone grabs me from behind, and strong male arms wrap around my center. “Don’t go back in there,” Misha shouts. “This court needs you.”
I growl, and I dissolve into shadow—into nothing—and dart back into the fray, weaving like mist through panicked people as I return to the children. It’s hotter now, and smoke is thick in the air. I won’t let myself think about how helpless these children are, how much smoke they’ve drawn into their lungs without knowing it. I won’t let myself remember what it’s like to be trapped and helpless while fire burns around you.
I snap back into solid form so fast my stomach heaves, but I don’t slow down. I grab two children this time—twin toddlers who are deadweight in their unnatural sleep—and I hold my breath as I race back out through the smoke to the safety of the shield.
With every breath, I draw from that seemingly endless well of power, reinforcing the cool cocoon of shadow that I have wrapped around the children, praying it can hold when the flames grow too hot.
When I return, there’s a boy lumbering toward the exit, a child thrown over each shoulder, Misha right behind him.
The boy stumbles outside and coughs fitfully, swaying on his feet. “You can’t go back in there,” he says.
“It’s too bad,” Misha agrees. “Let the water fae smother the flames before you go back in.”
I shake my head. “I won’t leave them.”
Misha’s eyes blaze. “You go in there, and you might not come back out.”
I push past him into the thick smoke.
Misha’s right. The building is falling. Inside, the walls burn bright and the smoke crowds every inch of the air. Outside, people are screaming. The cacophony of destruction fades into the back of my mind while I scan the infirmary, where the only sound is the snap and hiss of the fire and the creaking of the weakening ceiling joists. I weave my way through the flames, gritting my teeth through the pain as they lick at my skin.
The last two children are holding hands in their sleep, a small girl and her older brother. I couldn’t carry them both on my best day, but right now, already dizzy from the smoke, my lungs burning, I know the odds are stacked against us.
I wrap an arm around one child and then the other. My power wavers, the shield I have wrapped around them threatening to dissipate, but I need more. Just a little more.
I focus on shadow and darkness and the cool, soothing night until the back wall is nothing but shadow and flame. Then I heave and thrust the children through to the other side with the last of my strength.
Like the string of a bow stretched too tight, my power snaps and retreats to just beyond my grasp. I collapse, flames licking my legs.
I’m coming for you, Princess. Don’t let go.
Misha’s voice forces my eyes open. The flames around me are too close.
No! I shout the word in my mind. I can’t let my friend come in here. I can’t risk him being trapped, can’t risk more devastation to save my life.
I reach for my power again. It feels like swimming through sand, but I keep reaching, gathering up every little bit I can until the wall ahead of me gives way to shadow and I can crawl through to the other side.
I take a deep breath of blessedly cool air. It’s a balm on my lungs.
A black-cloaked figure lunges for me.
“No,” I cry, dodging. But I’m too slow, and I feel a needle slide into my arm, the burn of the toxin racing through my veins.