Page 67 of Of Flames and Crows

“I have to try.” Roman clenched his jaw and met the man’s fearful gaze. “We’re all going to die down here anyway,” he said bitterly. “Might as well mess with their plans and go out with a bang.”

The sorcerer went limp at that, the fight draining out of him.

Roman knelt on the floor of his cell. He frowned.Besides, I have questions for my grandfather.

He knew Oscar hadn’t lied when he’d told him about Budimir. He’d seen the truth in the sorcerer’s eyes.

There’s no reason for him to deceive me. And it all makes sense now. The death threats Grandfather received. The bodyguards. I was a mafia prince and I didn’t even know it!

Bitterness churned Roman’s stomach. He suppressed his anger.

Raging at the world wasn’t going to help him get out of this mess. The only one who could help him right now was himself. The face of the woman he’d seen through Filomena’s eyes flitted before him at that thought.

I hope I live long enough to meet her and thank her for saving me and Filo that night.

Roman took a deep breath, pressed his hands to the cool stone, and reached for his magic. For a moment, all he sensed was darkness.

A flame flickered into life deep within him.

Sweat beaded his forehead as the fire grew, stinging his bruised core where Barquiel had attacked him. He invoked what strength he could muster without his familiar and blasted his power into the rock, seeking a ley line.

His magic smashed into something seconds later.

Roman was thrown clear across the cell by the explosive force of the impact. He slammed shoulder first into the metal grille and cried out as the corruption coating it burned his flesh.

The walls and floor of his prison started to tremble. A fine layer of dust rained down on him from the shuddering ceiling as he staggered backward to the middle of the cell.

“What did you do?!” the sorcerer shouted from across the way.

“I—I don’t know!” Roman met his panicked stare. “That wasn’t meant to happen!”

One of the witches yelped.

Roman’s eyes rounded as a thin flow of water stained the corridor outside his prison. It doubled in size.

Cold drops landed on the back of his neck, startling him. He looked up and swallowed convulsively when he spotted the fresh crack in the ceiling. It expanded even as he watched, letting in a gush of water. He jumped out of the way as the deluge crashed down.

Screams tore through the prison as dark currents rushed inside the underground dungeon. Fear twisted Roman’s insides.

What—what have I done?!

Fire flared in the passage. The trapped sorcerers and witches were trying to break their way out of their cells despite the black magic burning their hands. Alas, their attempts were too weak to overcome their enemy’s tremendous power.

Water swirled around Roman’s thighs, jolting him out of his shocked daze. He scowled and drew on his magic. He might be weaker without Filomena but he was still strong enough to fight. He gripped the bars of his cell.

Pain scorched his palms. Roman gritted his teeth. The iron trembled in his grasp. The metal shifted to orange then a fierce red as he attempted to soften and bend it.

Air escaped him in a harsh gasp a moment later. He blinked perspiration out of his eyes. Despair choked his throat when he examined his handiwork. He’d managed to separate the bars by an inch.

The gap was still far too narrow for him to get through.

Roman’s shoulders sagged. He shuddered and closed his eyes as the water rose to his chest. The torches in the corridor fizzled out, filling the air with smoke and terrified cries.

Is this how we die? In this hellhole where no one will find us?!

His grandfather’s face flickered across his inner vision. Determination tightened his muscles.

No! I can’t die! I still need to give that old man a piece of my mind!

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