Page 68 of Daughter of No Worlds

And then, she was gone, her white hair and skin and jacket melting into the fog like she was one of those cursed soldiers. I didn’t notice or watch her leave. All of my attention was drawn to that morass of heartbeats that I could feel pulsating in my mind, thousands of people piled on top of each other beneath that building.

I looked down at the ripped-up dog toy.

Terror hardened into something sharper, stronger, in my veins. When I looked at Max, his stare was already meeting mine, mirroring my determination.

“If we get in first—” I started, desperately, and he returned it with a sharp nod.

“The Syrizen only care about their goal. If they’ve made up their mind, it’s the only thing we can do. Besides.” He let out a puff of air through his teeth. “As good a way to die as any, I suppose.”

We both turned to Sammerin, who gave us a look of silent resignation. “We all know,” he said, “that I’m committed.” Then he poised himself at the gap in the rubble. “If we go, we go now. Ready?”

“Yes,” I lied, confidently.

Max’s answer was not nearly as reassuring. “Ready as I’ll be.”

And then, before there was another moment to think or doubt —

We were out and into the that mass of mist and blood and sweat, fighting our way to the tower. Fire leapt from Max’s hands, curling up his forearms, casting grotesque red light into the mist and illuminating garish silhouettes for only a split second before they lunged at us.

I grabbed at those shadow minds in frantic fistfuls, pulling tight on the invisible threads that connected us, twisting, snapping. Half the time they slipped away before I could grab them. Other times, they stumbled long enough for Max’s fire to catch their clothing or hair, crawl around them, yank them back into their fragile physical existence and send them careening to the ground.

But he never struck to kill. And once they were on the ground, out of our way, he pulled the flames back with him when we moved on.

Out of the corner of my eye, flashes of bright gold sparks alerted me to the Syrizen leaping into the air, flickering and disappearing mid-jump, then reappearing further into the sky — as if they were flying.

“Pay attention,” Max grunted, as fire lit up my face, knocking one of those misty figures away from me. “Blades up, Tisaanah.”

I would have laughed if I could catch my breath. My little daggers felt ridiculous in a battle like this. What good would these little pieces of steel do, against illusion and smoke and flames?

We fought our way forward, Max surrounded by fire, Sammerin wielding blades like mine. Neither of them had either explicitly told me that they fought together in the war, but now, that was beyond a doubt. Their movements silently coordinated even without looking at each other, as if one constantly had their hand on the other’s pulse. I could only imagine what the two of them would be capable of if I weren’t dragging them back.

Even still, weflew,slipping between bodies and battles, engaging only where necessary. Nura’s words echoed in my head, and I was constantly aware of the flashes of the Syrizen’s movements. With every pounding heartbeat I could hear the ever-present pull of all those people, drawing me forward.

By the time we reached the tower’s solid, brass doors, there were so many soldiers hidden in the fog that we clashed every few steps. Our own men were far behind us. We moved slower as Max and Sammerin’s practiced grace gave way to something choppier and more desperate.

I tripped as Max shoved me aside, warmth spattering my cheek. Too late, I saw a figure tear from the air, sword raised. Max staggered, flinging a vicious stream of fire before I could react.

I didn’t see the body until hit the ground. Max grabbed his shoulder. “I’m fine,” he rasped. Blood seeped from between his fingers, but he only stared down at the listless body of my attacker.

He was not fine, but there was no time for Sammerin to do anything now. We were surrounded, our backs now pressed against the metal doors. My mind was as soupy as my vision, catching only glimpses of the people we could not see, fire illuminating their broad strokes.

Overwhelmed, I blinked, squeezed my eyes shut to clear my mind—

And in that moment, I could see all of it: spots of light in the darkness. Like I was looking at an inverted version of the world with each soldier, each life, each ball of thought clearly illuminated. In front of me, the invisible soldiers. Behind me, the people huddled beneath the tower. The Syrizen. Everyone.

It was so vivid that I snapped my eyes open again, plunging back into my normal, dulled senses, gasping. Without thinking, I raised my arms in front of me. An invisible force sprung from my arms, pushing the soldiers back, buying us precious few seconds.

“Good.” Max’s voice was a gasping grunt. His right arm was soaked in blood. His left was still crawling with fire, creating a wall around us as he peered over his shoulder at the door.

I knew what he was thinking: we weren’t getting through. Not by physical force. I could feel the faint magic pulse of someone holding it from within. Iron was not the only thing keeping it closed.

The ground rumbled. The Syrizen had begun to compromise the base of the tower, readying it for collapse.

No, I thought.No, no, no.

I winced, squeezing my eyes shut, and as I did the world once again lit up like a map in the darkness. All those souls, so close and yet separated from us by so much.

So close,soclose—

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