Page 241 of Children of Fallen Gods

Chapter Eighty-Four

Max

The world was unraveling. I threw every bit of myself, every scrap of magic, every remaining drop of willpower, into fighting it. My flames still roared, out of control. With what little strength I had left, I tried to whisper to them enough to keep them from devouring us all. But almost all of my magic was being siphoned off by this presence that had taken hold inside of me. I couldn’t close myself off from the deepest level of magic — as if something had been wedged inside the door.

Tisaanah was fighting him, albeit weakly, her eyes closed, mouth twisted in a soundless scream of pain. The king reached deep into her mind. Searching. Slicing.

Stop, stop, stop—

It was like slamming my fists against a sheet of glass.

Tisaanah’s eyelids fluttered. When they opened again, they flicked to me and held there, searching mine, bright with tears.

“He has roots,” she choked out. “Everywhere, Max. He is connected to this world everywhere.”

She could barely form the words.

The horrible realization hit me. In the world beneath this one, the world where I was trapped, I looked up at the sky — at strings of light lashed from star to star.

I realized what I was looking at.

Not stars.

They werehim. Holes he had torn into the boundaries between magics. The little threads he had planted to draw himself to Ara.

And the biggest tear of all was within me.Iwas the opening that he was using to claw his way into this world.

Magic collided with magic, and Tisaanah’s silent scream became a piercing one. I felt her magic withering. I felt him hacking away at the power that still was hidden, deep and weak, within her. Whatever was left beyond it was barely magic at all. And she was stretched so thin, going in so many different directions at once.

If he didn’t stop, he would kill her.

You’ve destroyed everything you’ve ever loved.

Of course it was Nura’s voice, of all things, that floated through my mind, then. Maybe under any other circumstance, I would have been angry that we were here. All of this was a result of selfishness and pettiness and stupid, Ascended-damned human selfishness.

But now, I only could think of one certainty.

Tisaanah needed to close it off — this bleeding wound within me. She could do it, perhaps, under normal circumstances. Not now, with her magic so far gone.

“Caduan.”

The voice made the king stop short.

My face turned. I felt the king’s recognition, and his anger. I felt the distant, distant echoes of Reshaye’s hurt.

Ishqa stood there. He had wings, now, which were tucked in close to his back, golden feathers bathed in the scarlet light of the flames. His white robes were singed. A large sword was in his hands, steel reflecting the licks of fire.

“Ishqa.” I heard the word come from my lips. One of my hands still pressed Tisaanah to the wall, where she slackened, half-conscious. “Why are you here?”

He wasn’t speaking Aran. Still, I felt the words’ meaning in the magic that we shared.

“This is not the way,” Ishqa said. “You are making a mistake. You will only discard more lives if you do this.”

Hatred spiked through me.

“How many lives have already been sacrificed because of the choices you made?”

“Too many, Caduan. Do you think I do not know that?” Ishqa stepped forward, cautiously. “It is not too late to turn around.”

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