Page 123 of The War of Wings
Keep going. Just a little longer.
Pain. Weight. Heat. Darkness. Such dense, unyielding darkness.
A hand shot to clutch my chest as my ribs suddenly pulled inward. Holy shit, my ribs were going to snap. Oh shit. Ohshit. An invisible hand closed around my throat, joining the one around my torso as I fought against its grip to take in enough air. Dizziness overtook me, my knees colliding with the dirt path and my hands following as I gasped. Aegrabane clattered beside me.
With everything I had, I tried to shuffle backwards, back the way I came where the air had been easier to breathe and this invisible weight hadn’t been so heavy. I’d be no use to Petra if I died here within the Iron Rise.What the fuck were you thinking, Cal?
Three red spots appeared at the side of my vision, pulsing in time with my raging heartbeat. Oh fuck, that couldn’t be good. Consciousness was slipping away from me, and all I could do was try to catch it between my fingers like sand. I grunted as I furiously attempted to blink away those red spots, but they wouldn’t budge.
Because, I realized, they weren’t red spots at all — but a dim, pulsing glow, coming from the rubies in Aegrabane’s hilt.
With my chest in the dirt, I pushed forward, all of my muscles seizing as I fought.“Come on!”I rasped through gritted teeth, my hand slowly inching toward Aegrabane. Gravity had increased tenfold, pushing down on every inch of my body with all the fury of the Iron Rise. Was the Iron Rise collapsing? Was that what this crushing weight was?
With a final heave my hand closed around the hilt, turning it just enough to see the rubies. They were glowing alright, but why?
I prayed to every fucking Saint, Benevolent and Blood, that it was because I was close.
The tendons in my neck strained as I dug my fingers into the packed dirt and dragged myself forward, Aegrabane’s hiltstill in my grip. My body screamed in protest, my bones so close to snapping a part of me almost wished they’d just break and get it over with. A roar escaped my painfully tightened jaw as the pressure increased, my head moments from imploding, I was sure of it. Inch by miserable inch, I crawled through the dirt.
I could stop right here and die. I could halt my miserable crawl forward and succumb. I could give up, hand my soul over to the Sanguilite. And I probably would have if it weren’t for the one thing ringing through my mind over and over again, even as the inky darkness took hold.
Petra. Petra. Petra.
Chapter 48
Petra
I was paralyzed where I stood next to the dining table, Malosym’s letter still on the ground before me. Somewhere in my soul, between the layers of anger and uncertainty was a fire that had been blazing for the four years since Castemont had entered my life. A fire that had suddenly banked into nothing but a low-burning smolder, smothered by the fear that Malosym had Cal.
How? How did he have Cal?
I frantically reached into my mind.Adorex! I shouted to her.Is Obitus here?
No.
Where is he?I asked.
A sense of panic echoed down the line to me.Unknown.
A soft knock sounded from the door, pulling me from my silent conversation with Adorex. I was numb as I shuffledthrough the room, opening the door to find Tyrak’s face creased with worry.
“Queen Petra,” he murmured, taking in my expression, and his changed from worry to fear. “What’s wrong?”
I stood to the side, ushering him through the door before closing it and leaning against the cool wood. “He has Cal. Malosym has Cal.”
Tyrak’s mouth fell open, his head shaking slowly as he stared. “How?”
“Does it fucking matter?” I shrieked, my arms flying wide as I began pacing aimlessly around the room. “He has Cal. He has Cal.He has Cal.” Hysterics rose up the back of my throat, the bit of fragile resolve I’d built shattered by this raging sense of vulnerability, this harrowing sense of helplessness. Tyrak’s eyes caught on the discarded note, and he reached for it, his mouth a grim line as he read the words.
“What do I do Tyrak?” I begged, my eyes swimming as I stood before him. My hands closed around his biceps, as if he was the only thing keeping me tethered to the ground right now.
There was no edge of pity or sympathy in his features as he stared back at me. There was just a profound sadness, an acute look of the same helplessness that was ripping through me. “I can’t tell you what to do.”
“Tell me what the fuck to do, Tyrak!” I roared. “You know Malosym better than anyone! You were here for his rise in the New World. You know what he’s capable of. So fuck Katia’s wishes. Fuck my fear. Fuck your guilt. My entire fucking life, it’s all fallen on me to decide. I don’t want it anymore. Now tell me what to do!”
Every feature on his face hardened, the Saint of Pain visible in the creases that bracketed his mouth and the severe set of his brows. But his eyes… His eyes were soft. He gave one final nod. “You go to the shore,” he started. “You wait for him. No matter how long he takes. You wait for him, you ensure Cal’s safe return, and then you end this.”
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