Page 109 of At the Mercy of Midnight
Her hand flicked, flinching only a little as Demetrius was flung into the wall, his head knocking against stone, eyes rolling back into his head before slumping to the floor.
Amelia turned for Silas and with two long strides, she was falling to her knees before him. His eyes flickered as he watched her, looking close to losing consciousness.
He lifted a corner of his lips weakly. “My storm,” he whispered, as though he had no energy to speak at his normal volume.
Amelia swallowed uneasily, eyes looking around madly, hands tugging at the shackles around his wrists to no avail.
“What…”
“The pendant,” he muttered, head drooping again, eyes closing.
Amelia reached for the heavy thing sitting against his chest, lifting it quickly. The heavy medallion lay against her palm, and she stared, feeling a strange kinship, like it called to her. She dropped it to the ground, turning her attention back to him.
Silas drew in a long breath, shoulders straightening and head rising. His light blue eyes opened, the light reigniting in them.
“Amelia,” he rasped. Not for the first time, the sound of her name had her heart jumping. His forehead came to rest against her own. “You came…”
Her eyes closed as she felt the warmth of him seeping into her cold pores. “Of course I did.”
Something sang to her, a throbbing magic nearby. Her eyes snapped open, falling to the shackles.
She pulled her head away from Silas and lay her hand across one, the cool metal against her fingertips. The rune magic flowed into her effortlessly.
“Amelia,” he said, a warning, “you shouldn’t use too much…you’ll crash.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him, teeth gritted as the shackle cracked and fell apart. She moved for the next one, but it was clear that Silas was right. She felt it, barrelling for her at an alarming speed. An aching tiredness so complete, she might keel over any moment. It started in her head, a pounding in her temples. Then it flowed through her limbs, making them grow heavy.
Just a little more, she urged herself.
Amelia took the magic from the other shackle, satisfied when it cracked, and Silas was free. He fell forwards, but she was there, ready for him and catching him before he hit the ground.
“Come on,” she said, straining under his weight. “If you can, I’m going to need your help so we can get out of here.”
A soft gasp from behind caught her attention. Amelia turned her head, freezing in place as her eyes fell to a person in the doorway.
Silas twitched in her arms.
A woman. Not just a woman. Silas’ mother, looking upon them in alarm, Silas draped heavily across Amelia as he struggled to stand.
“What…” Amelia looked at Veralind, confusion swamping her.
“She told them about us—” Silas started but didn’t need to elaborate.
Veralind’s face was pallid, drawn, chest rising and falling in the heavy robes draped across her chest. Her blue eyes flicked between them, before stopping at the pendant on the floor by her feet.
“She…” Amelia paused to swallow. “She’s why you’re here?”
Veralind glanced back up, lips tight.
Fury took her. The lanterns on the walls shattered, plunging the chamber into a flickering darkness, sparks shooting in all directions. Veralind made a noise of alarm. The very foundation of the cavern trembled as her magic surged, tearing through the stones, cracking the walls.
His mother took a trembling step. Amelia’s head snapped to her, eyes narrowing. “Take one more step,” she dared, raising her hand to aim at the woman, her other arm around Silas’ shoulders. keeping him steady.
“Amelia, you don’t understand—”
She met his mother’s gaze, fire in her eyes. “No.Youdon’t.”
Then she brought the ceiling down.
