Page 107 of Veinblood
Sereven laughs, blood spattering from his lips. “Yes. Every bolt you throw makes me stronger. The crystal takes your lightning and gives it to me.”
Tidevein power pulls moisture from the air, forming ice spears that hurtle toward me. I throw myself flat as they whistle overhead, then roll as Flamevein fire follows. The heat sears across my back.
“Do you see now?” He advances, and the ground beneath us churns and grinds under his will. “This is what true power looks like, Elowen. Not the crude lightning you stumble through, but mastery of everything.”
“They don’t belong to you!”
“They do now.” Wind slams into me, driving me back to my knees. “Every Veinblood who died screaming lives on through me.Iam their legacy.”
“You’re theirmurderer!”
Lightning explodes from me in pure rage, but it’s not focused, and flies outward in every direction. Some of it strikes him, some hits the fountain, some cracks the plaza stones.
All of it feeds the crystal.
The blue shards flare like tiny suns, and Sereven staggers as power floods through him. For a moment I think it might overwhelm him. Blood pours from every opening in his face, drips down his chin, smears his lips.
Then he steadies.Smiles. And the crystal settles into a steady, hungry glow.
“Thank you. I haven't felt this strong in years.”
The full horror hits me. I'm not fighting one man. I'm fighting the accumulated abilities of every Veinblood the Authority ever killed.
And there's no way to win.
Shadows writhe around his feet, tendrils reaching for me. I scramble backward. Fire follows the shadows, forcing me to keep moving. Then wind tries to pin me in place while ice spears form overhead.
He's using all of them at once, and I can barely keep ahead of the attacks.
“Surrender,” he calls, blood streaming down his face. “You're only delaying the inevitable.”
I can't attack, and I can’t defend myself properly. The only thing I can do is run, and dodge, and hope he burns himself out before he kills me.
But the crystal keeps pulsing. It keeps feeding him. And I'm getting tired.
A shadow tendril wraps around my ankle. I go down hard, tasting blood as my chin hits stone. Fire roars toward me.
And then the mist stalker moves, slamming into Sereven'schest and breaking his concentration. The fire dies, the shadows release me, and I scramble to my feet.
“Good boy,” I gasp, then freeze as images flood my mind through my connection to it.
River Crossing when Sacha’s raven crashed into me. The caves when my powers healed him. Our bodies pressed together in his quarters. Our powers meeting, flowing together, merging.
Each image carries the same message. You are not alone.
Desperation drives me to reach out through the bond connecting me to Sacha.
If it can carry feelings, surely it can carry more.
Help me. I need your power.
I don’t know if he can feel it. If he can even understand what I’m asking. For a heartbeat, nothing happens. And then the bond explodes as Sacha drops every barrier between us.
Shadows pour across the distance. Dark tendrils that smell of midnight and promises. They’re nothing like the corrupted shadows Sereven has used. These shadows are alive, choosing to serve rather than forced into slavery.
Silver-touched darkness wreathes around me like armor, and suddenly I understand.
Where shadow leads, storm will follow.
