Page 159 of Of Stars and Lightning
Sol.
Her name pulsed through him like a prayer, encompassing his every thought until she was all he saw.
Sol Yarrow.
When her scream shredded through the foyer, vibrating the ground itself, Cas tore his eyes open. With the sort of calmness before a tempest, he strode to the front doors, letting the full force of his Wards engulf him in violet flames.
NINA
NINA HADHERsword angled at the Lower Jinn, her nightgown tattered from tearing through her bedroom door. The Jinn thought a copper chain would hold her.
The Jinn was wrong.
The place where the chain had snagged on her legs as she had stepped over it burned, but not as hotly as the fury in her chest. Looking directly at the thing’s flapping, waxy wings, Nina said “Move.”
It croaked a laugh. “No.”
To her left, Sawyer’s door rattled, also secured by copper chains.
“Move, before Sawyer gets out here.” Nina’s magic flared at her fingertips, aiding the Fire Wielder with the wooden door. But she didn’t need it. The wall beside it shook, rumbling with warning before it ignited in a wall of flame.
Nina smiled as Sawyer walked straight through them, armed with her twin swords and an expression that portrayed just why she was the Royal General.
Sawyer’s eyes flared like embers as she turned to the Jinn. “You chose the wrong fucking day to bother us.”
Fifty One
FATE OF FIRE
SOL THOUGHTITwould be painful, but she felt nothing. Only a pinching and stinging around her chest as the talons sliced through her body, then nothing. She was in total darkness. Conscious only of the fact she was surrounded by night, in an abyss.
No.
As she focused on her blindness with increased attention, she realized she wasn’t anywhere, or everywhere, but instead floating within a sea of Shadows. She looked down at her hand, stark white against the tiny particles. She could see her feet, her legs, and her hair flowing down her chest.
Sol’s body was only thinly covered by a veil of mist, hanging around her like a loose dress. She touched the translucent fabric with her fingers, but she couldn’t feel it. It was as if an additional layer of air prevented her from touching, seeing, or smelling.
Back in the in-between?
A ruffling sounded from behind her, making her tense. She focused on steady breaths as she turned toward the sound.
Sol stepped forward, entranced by the figure that shimmered before her. Then, as if in a daze, took another step.
“Sol.” The figure rippled as it came into view, forming from the Shadows themselves.
Sol fell to her knees. “Mom?”
Irene smiled tenderly, a smile Sol treasured and had kept at the front line of her thoughts for difficult days. Her mother lookedbeautiful, just as she always had. Her black hair was loosely braided into a knot held up by an ivory bandana. She wore a beige dress, spotty with paint and ash. Her sapphire eyes shone like beacons in the dark as Sol darted forward, nearly crawling toward her.
Irene met her halfway, enveloping her in an embrace. Instantly, Sol began to sob.
She hadn’t been able to recall what her mother’s hug had felt like. After her murder, she had tried to remember, but nothing comforted her the same. Not keeping Irene’s old, unwashed aprons, not tending to her thyme, mint, and lavender gardens so she’d smell like her. Nothing had filled the hole her Mother’s death had blasted through her.
But, at least at this moment, Sol felt whole.
“Mom,” she whimpered, grabbing the fabric of her Mother’s dress. Again, she couldn’t quite grasp it, couldn’t quite feel everything as fully as she wanted to.
Her mother stroked the back of her head. “You shouldn’t be here, Sol.”
