Page 66 of The War of Wings
Petra blinked rapidly, exhaustion hollowing the space beneath her eyes. “I need to speak with Katia and Rhedros.”
Tyrak’s hands dropped to his side, the worry on his face replaced by awe. “You speak to them?” he whispered.
Petra didn’t seem to notice the look on Tyrak’s face. “I’ve lost consciousness a few times and have woken up wherever they are in the Darkness Beyond.” She looked to me for a moment, gesturing between us. “But Cal and I didn’t hear or see them when we were in the Darkness Beyond.”
Tyrak’s jaw slackened, and something hard dropped into my gut. “What?” I asked, eyeing his unsure expression.
“It’s nothing,” he answered, his jaw closing and his expression neutralizing. “I was simply not expecting to hear that you’ve both been to the Darkness Beyond.”
Petra was chewing on her thumbnail again, her brows furrowed. She pursed her lips, as if coming to some internal conclusion. Then she straightened and squeezed her eyes shut, her fists balling at her sides. Silence descended, and Miles’ brows furrowed. He looked at me in question, but all I could do was shrug in response. Petra’s lips moved silently, and though I couldn’t read what she was saying, I could tell she was repeating herself over and over.
I dared a look in Tyrak’s direction, finding him enraptured by whatever the hell Petra was doing, his face wary.
Finally, her eyes opened. Her fists relaxed, the line between her brows softening. She looked at me, her expression serious. “I need you to punch me in the face.”
I reared back, blinking at her rapidly, because surely those words had not just left her mouth. “Excuse me?”
“I could freely move between realms on the other side with nothing more than some concentration. I can’t seem to do that here. The only time I’ve managed to get to the Darkness Beyond from the Human Realm is when I lose consciousness.”
Tyrak’s expression was grave. “Your powers will always be stronger in the Holy Realms,” he offered as an explanation, echoing what the Sanguilite said. “Which is why Malosym’s power is so easily depleted here.”
Petra nodded, looking back at me. “I can either climb on top of this table, jump off, and hope I don’t kill myself, or you can punch me in the face.”
I laughed at her joke. It was funny, really. Not the best time for a joke, but funny all the same. “Hilarious, Petra.”
She turned to where Miles was watching in wide-eyed horror. “What about you Miles? I’m sure you have some anger to work out. Come hit me.”
“Your Majesty,” he stammered. “I can’t–”
“Sure you can. Come on.”
I grabbed her elbow, but she easily tore out of my grip. “Petra, this isn’t funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. Now Miles, punch me in the face.”
“No,” he answered firmly, his horror turning to anger.
“Back of the head?”
“There’s a better way than this, Petra. This is foolish.”
“What about you, Tyrak?” she asked, whirling to the last man standing. “I’m sure there’s a little bit of that Saint of Pain left in you.”
His mouth slackened, his head shaking. “I cannot in good conscience lay a hand on you, Petra.”
She sighed, rolling her eyes, before she pulled her chair out further and propped one leg up. “If Nell were here, she’d do it.”
“And I’d put her in the ground,” I answered, confusion marking my features as I watched her. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Don’t be such a protective barbarian. And what does it look like I’m doing?” Another leg up on the chair, then one on the table. “I’m going to see Katia and Rhedros.”
“Petra!” I lunged for her.
She cast a hand out, but instead of fire, a burst of frigid air knocked me in the face as she moved toward the center of the table. “Okay, last chance boys, or I’m jumping.”
Miles stalked toward the table as if he were coming to collect a petulant child in the midst of a tantrum. Tyrak took a step forward, too, and the three of us surrounded her, arms extended.
She surged to the left, and we all followed. But at the last second, she threw herself backward, out of anyone’s reach. I cursed, careening over the table to get to her, but it was too late. And, in true Petra fashion, she raised her middle finger for one final moment before her head cracked against the tile.
