Page 98 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

For a moment, the only thing she felt was the painful shredding of her muscles and flesh under the tipped blade, and the grating sensation of something sharp biting into her bone, but then something hot bubbled under the surface of her skin. The elf woman’s shadows writhed within her, eating away at her mana and burning her wound.

The shadows rose around her. She could already see her own fate—being eaten alive by these burning, inky shadows. It would happen to her the same way she had killed Hilda’s lackeys or even that giant goblin in the caves. She could see herself fighting off the shadows and dying, with black stains left over her body.

Her panic flared. She waved her sword to keep the woman away, but the shadows were multiplying, spreading from that wound and festering into a giant flame across her shoulder.

She screamed and tried rubbing the black away, but it just grew further. Her flesh felt like it was being burned and frozen at the same time. The hot and cold sent waves of pain over her body. Her mana fluctuated in the same way; bits and pieces of it were being torn apart by the hungry shadows.

Kolfinna hadn’t even realized she had dropped her sword. Her fingers scratched at the shadows licking up her neck, reaching for her face.

Just as the very edges of her vision turned black, her mana burst uncontrollably from her hands. Something reared inside of her, twisting and thrashing. She didn’t even realize what it was until the pain stopped. When she blinked back, the shadows were still there, swarming around her like tendrils of smoke. They snaked around her body like whips and lashed against the elf woman, who jumped back in surprise.

It was Kolfinna’s shadows that were fighting. That were protecting her and pushing the woman away.

“You—” the woman started, eyes wide.

Kolfinna couldn’t control the shadows as they shot toward the woman silently. They jumped forward, ready to devour her like they had the other times, but the woman raised her hand and a blast of white light split the shadows in half.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and she laughed. “You have elven blood, child! And you do not even know how to wield it.”

Something slammed into Kolfinna and she crashed backward. She rolled and rolled, her shoulder cracking into something—a stone, maybe?—and her chest felt like it had been ripped open. All of her shadows disappeared around her.

Her vision darkened and she gasped in pain. Her shaking fingers went to her chest. All at once, she felt the absence of her own mana. Her fingers wrapped around a glowing arrow.

Her hands were slick with blood. The arrow was leaching off her mana, she realized as her slippery fingers followed the body of the arrow down to where it was lodged in her right breast. She yanked it out violently, and a burst of stars danced at the edges of her vision. She could feel herself falling into unconsciousness, but she pushed herself into a sitting position to stave off the exhaustion, the shock, and her body’s desire to slip into unconsciousness.

Focus.

She would heal, she told herself. She couldn’t fall here. She needed to find Rakel.

She could feel her mind slipping further.

Why was she fighting again?

Rakel.

That was right. Rakel. If Rakel escaped … The half-elf commander would know about her.

Her gaze roamed over the courtyard. At the flying fae facing against air elementals in aerial battles, at the fae warriors using stone magic against the soldiers, at the elf warriors wielding shadows and light. At the soldiers whose lightning boomed and crackled in the sky, at the fire blazing in different shades across the battlefield, at the ice crackling and water slicing through the air, at the crack and splinter of enhancers breaking into walls with the force of their magic, and the whipping of air splitting from air elementals.

It was dizzying to see, and through the thicket, her gaze met with Joran’s. His eyes were wide and panicked, and when he saw her, his mouth opened to say something, but Kolfinna couldn’t hear a thing beside the crashes and booms and screams of battle. He was a dozen feet away from her, and even in the thick of battle, he wasn’t using his powers. He was wielding his sword instead.

Kolfinna tried to stand, but something loomed above her.

A pair of orange eyes met hers.

The winged fae grabbed Kolfinna’s bicep and yanked her to her feet. She could barely scream as he tossed her over his shoulder and lurched up into the sky. Her vision blurred and the air slammed into her face quickly. She could still see Joran’s shocked expression, could see the soldiers becoming smaller.

Kolfinna could barely protest. The wings of the warrior flapped in the air close to her face, and even though she knew logically that all she had to do was strike the wings, her body stiffened and she couldn’t move. They moved so quickly, so powerfully, that if she struck them, she was sure she’d break her hand.

“Let me go!” She punched the warrior’s back, but that didn’t slow him down. They were rising up even higher now.

She couldn’t feel her mana—she was completely drained—and she could barely lift one of her arms. Blood ran down herchest from the arrow wound, and she wasn’t sure what was making her dizzier, the blood loss or the altitude?

Down below, Joran raised his hand in her direction.

Yes, Kolfinna thought.Spear him with the stones.Do something. Save me.

But then, just as quickly, he lowered his hand and turned away.

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