Page 218 of Between Despair and Hope

A shriek tore through the air, followed by a gleeful cackle as the itzki caught Cyran before launching back into the sky. Playing with him. I was able to relax for a second—only a moment—and hope washed over me once more. Cyran was still in danger, but the moment of clarity I’d experienced during his fall only made me know with that much more certainty I wouldn’t let him go after we defeated Declan.

Shaking out my tightened limbs, I focused on Rainier and that evil man, not knowing what to do. If I used my divine fire, it would hit both men, and I didn’t want to hurt Rainier. He had used his organic divinity to manipulate the ground, pulling Declan down, but he only used his shadows to pull himself out or to wrench Rainier off of him. They tussled in that way for a while, and I used my fire when I could. Rainier landed a punch, and it appeared as if he were about to have the upper hand as he straddled Declan. I knew he said my mother needed her divine fire, but when I saw him cup his hand to wield it, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Declan’s shadows plucked Rainier off him just before he could use the fire, tossing him forcefully to the ground. I didn’t understand how much I could hate the power coming from Declan when I didn’t hate it when Mama or Cy used it. I’d never seen Rainier use the shadows, but something told me I wouldn’t hate it from him either. They were fun and playful when they used them, but the ones Declan created were made of malice and destruction.

Rainier groaned, holding his head from where he slammed into the ground as I pulled my own fire into my hands, sending a wave of heat and light toward Declan. He dismissed my assault all too easily, letting his shadows absorb it and turning it into wicked black flames.

He made a show of checking a pocket watch and looking to the skies as he smothered my fire once more. Rainier clambered to his feet, and I wondered what had taken him so long. Was he not able to heal himself? Was Mama alright?

“Afraid to use her divinity, Rainy? She must be having quite a rough go of it right now if you can feel her using it.”

After a blessed week of warmer temperatures, it had grown cold once more—blustering winds chilled the air and tiny snowflakes fell intermittently. Though it was frigid, I’d grown sweaty, brow damp as I used my divinity to the best of my ability. I hadn’t come into my full power yet, so, though I was far more gifted than many other conduits my age because I was blessed at birth, I was going to run out—and soon.

Rainier was hurting, and I could tell as his wind barely moved Declan’s shadows away before they turned into whips, attempting to wrap around his legs. I did my best to help, dispatching them with my fire, but I could tell we didn’t have much more fight left in us. We’d lost the brief upper hand because of me. Because I’d screamed, and it had distracted Rainier. Because he had stopped what he was doing to listen and assess, protecting me.

Shivani had told me what my dead grandfather had said. That love would be his weakness. The man had been talking about Mama, but maybe he was right about love. Rainier had shown in his actions and by listening to me that he loved me, and now it was going to be the reason we lost this fight.

He’d never said it to me either—probably for fear of scaring me off. But if we were going to die, he needed to know I was grateful for his love and returned it.

When one shadow wrapped around Rainier’s ankle, pulling him to the ground, I knew we were close to the end. He hurled a boulder at Declan, easily diverted with that evil power. Within the span of a breath, Rainier was being wrapped up in vines of dark divinity, the shadows dragging him closer to their master. Rainier bellowed for me to flee, and Declan’s gaze landed on me, a smirk playing on his thin lips. He groaned in frustration, spinning to block the water and rocks Rainier threw at him, and I knew what I had to do.

“Elora, no!” my father cried as I barreled toward Declan at a run, throwing my arms around his neck and holding on as tight as I could.

Chapter 60

Emmeline

Tossingtheswordtothe side, I glanced over to make sure Nor’s hands were steady on Dewalt’s wound. I hesitated to use any of my divinity, not until I could get the blasted obsidian off of me, but I reached out to listen for both his and Theo’s hearts as I started picking tiny shards of stone from my exposed skin. Theo’s heart was sluggish but steady while Dewalt’s raced far too fast. I closed my eyes, inhaling as I attempted to calm my own.

I didn’t know what to do. Theo had a head injury and had been unconscious since it happened. If I didn’t heal him soon, I might not be able to at all. And he was only a child—barely eighteen. Gods, it might already be too late; he’d been unconscious for a while. But since his heart felt steady enough, I hesitated to go to him first. Head wounds were always far more taxing on my divinity than anything else, and if I started there, I wouldn’t be able to heal Dewalt as well. And his situation was more dire by far. With Dewalt’s beat racing the way it was and the chest wound? He’d bleed out in minutes without my intervention. Since regrets stemming from whichever choice I made would accompany me during my life’s sleepless nights, I only allowed myself a moment to linger in my indecision.

“Nor, I’m going to switch positions with you, and you need to get this obsidian out of my skin.”

The woman nodded, not moving until I was ready to take over for her. Before my hands were even hovering over his chest, the little bit of divinity I could access was already frantic in its need to mend.

“Emma, wait,” Dewalt’s voice was strained as he spoke to me, clutching my wrist. Short of breath, he forced out an order. “You have to cut my hair.”

“What?” I sputtered.

“Thyra told me—it’s not braided, but—” he groaned, closing his eyes. “It’ll have to do. Before I die, you have to.”

“You’re not fucking dying,” I asserted.

“Emma, please,” he said, deep brown eyes searching mine as pain forged a path in the creases on his forehead.

“Let me heal you for a second first, alright?” He closed his eyes, sighing, and I slid my fingertips toward Nor’s hands, and we gracefully switched places. “I promise, D. I’ll—I’ll cut your hair if I think—if it comes to that.”

With my divinity only a trickle while Nor started frantically picking at the shards on my exposed thigh, I didn’t know if I should try to slow his heart so it wouldn’t bleed out so much, or if I should focus on knitting the wound—so I tried to do a bit of both. His breathing only grew more rapid as he struggled to get air into his lungs. I worried one was punctured. In my mind, I urged Nor to hurry but knew she was doing the best she could. The shards of obsidian were far too tiny and too numerous for her to do much.

“Is there a well nearby? Water and some cloth, and you can be rough with it. I can heal myself after.”

Nor scrambled to her feet, hesitating for only a second as she twisted her hands together, but she said nothing.

“I thought it was really her—Nor,” Dewalt muttered.

“Don’t talk,” I ordered, focusing my attention on the mess beneath my hands. I was slowing the flow of blood, but the moment I tried to knit the wound from the deepest point outward, the blood would start flowing faster. I could barely do anything. His breathing grew ragged—slower and wetter with each passing second. Trying to send so much divinity through me into Dewalt when I couldn’t truly access it was tiresome, and, though I knew the well ran deep, my head was already aching. Would I run out?

“I would’ve deserved it, you know,” he said, pausing for breath. “For kissing her.”

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