Page 109 of The Trials of Ophelia

But still, those two powers battling within my body raged, flashes of light stealing my vision. Two bright forces, one dark and curling at the edges, the other shining and intrinsic.

The back of my neck prickled, and I forced myself to focus on the battle. I shoved aside the warring sensations and spun on the balls of my feet, raising Starfire on instinct, and came blade to blade with a masked warrior.

He bore down on me, forcing me back.

I jumped over the woman’s body I’d slain and put more space between me and this new opponent. Enough to rip Angelborn from my back and thrust her forward.

The gleaming gold tip went through the man’s eye before it even had a moment to widen. I wrenched it from his head, and the way the blood spilled across his face and into his gaping mouth stirred a deranged satisfaction within me.

“Vale, guard me!” Jezebel shouted.

As I whirled toward her, my sister fell into her power.

She reached out, and the warrior I killed rose, swinging around toward his own men. It was a ghastly sight: blood pouring through the air, limbs stumbling as Jez seized hold through his spirit. She used his weight to slam into another Engrossian and drew the man’s ax sloppily across his fellow’s neck.

Then, she was manipulating the two of them like an army of dead warriors.

“Two is all I can handle!” she shouted.

But two was better than one, and she used her deathly puppets’ spirits to control their bodies and add numbers and strength to our side.

Cypherion and Tolek battled back-to-back, operating like a scale in perfect balance. Where one swung, the other dodged, a bond guiding their movements as Cyph sliced his scythe across one warrior’s stomach, guts pouring out, and Tol fired off an arrow. It shot through the neck of an Engrossian charging Jez, the man’s body going limp with the impact.

I threw Angelborn across my back and ran to join Vale guarding my sister, meeting the cruel, lifeless eyes of an Engrossian.

And Starfire met her ax.

A pang of sorrow clanged through me in time with our weapons. Kakias did this. She’d stolen these warriors’ lives. She’d fed them with her power and turned them into her destructive tools.

Never mind the anomaly of her being able to manipulate anyone, let alone another clan. Did they want this? Perhaps they did, I thought as the woman’s blade came within an inch of my stomach. If that was the case, they were our enemies. I couldn’t tell myself otherwise. Not if I wanted to get my friends out of this alive.

The wind gusted, ghostly tendrils skating down my skin. In my periphery, curling, whip-like black tendrils crawled over the cliff edge and seeped across the ground like fresh ink, toward me and my friends.

And I knew in my bones what that power was.

Was certain as I ducked my opponent’s next swing and rammed Starfire into her side, clean through her leather armor, it belonged to the queen.

The Engrossian’s ax tumbled from her hand, skinning my shoulder as it fell. I cried out, pressing my hand to the wound.

My blood trickled over the Engrossian emblem ring, and a beam of Angellight shot forward.

It pushed against the soldier, forcing her back. I sucked in a gasp, and in response the Angellight recoiled to the ring in time with my breath. Warmth seeped through my hand, spreading over the scrape to my shoulder and healing it quicker than even our mountains could.

Before I could question that unusual connection with the Angellight, that wild wind howled around us again. Tendrils oozed like tar along the ground.

Something tugged behind my navel, jerking me backward.

And the pain radiating from my scar shot through my arm, like bones cracking. That poisonous power solidified beneath the skin, responding to the coils as they got closer. Reaching for them.

A scream wrenched up my throat, and I fell to my knees, Starfire tumbling from my grasp.

Crimson bled around the Engrossian warrior’s hands as they pressed to her side. She sneered down at me, pure hatred tinted with victory in her snarl. Her skin paled by the second, but she ripped a dagger from her side and stumbled toward me.

All I could do was writhe with the pain beneath my scar and scramble back, uninjured arm flailing across the ground. My fingers locked around a rock, and I threw it.

The impact was harsh—leaving an instant slice to her forehead—but she kept coming.

And I kept crawling through dirt and leaves. Tried to see through the blinding pain in my arm and light-flecked vision. It was all growing more distorted—the growls of battle echoing and forms melting into shapeless masses.

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