M A X
I searched her face for some sign of my friend, but I saw no trace of Tisaanah in those features or that voice. My
stomach sank.
Come on, Tisaanah. Come back.
“You’re done,” I said.
A pained sneer formed over the bridge of her nose. “It is not enough.”
“You’re done,” I repeated. The red butterflies still streamed from her skin, clustering around her like wings and rising to the ceiling. But they were deformed now, little more than flapping blobs.
“Come back, Tisaanah. You’re still there.”
For one moment, she stared at me, and hope leapt in my chest.
And then the sneer deepened.
“We are not done,” she snarled, and lifted Il’Sahaj into a vicious slash.
Fuck.
I blocked her, then again, and again. Every time her sword clashed against my staff, black crept up the liquid fire that pooled in its divets. Her magic was overtaking my own, hijacking the veins built into my weapon. My palms
began to burn where my skin touched the metal. A butterfly collided with my forearm and I winced at the ensuing pain.
I thrust the metal back in one violent push, hurling her against the wall. She hit it, then stumbled, taking a moment too long to find her footing. The way her legs lurched told me that Reshaye still did not have complete control of her body.
A perfect opening. The part of me that was a trained fighter knew the movement so well that it twitched in my arms. Any other opponent, and that would be the end.
But this was not any other opponent. This was Tisaanah.
And all I could bring myself to do was pray that the moment of stunned impact might give her the opening that she needed to seize her own control.
Instead, her head lolled for only a moment before her eyes settled on me and she lunged.
I blocked, wincing as the skin on my palms burned.
Where was Sammerin? I couldn’t even see through these fucking butterflies. I could only take my eyes off her for split seconds at a time, but when I could, I searched over her shoulder into that morass of red.
Another lunge. Another block. Another rush of decayed black.
“You stifle yourself, Maxantarius.” Her nostrils twitched. “Why are you so afraid?”
I pulled away. My feet danced over dead bodies, each step deliberate to avoid slipping on a floor covered in gore and oily rot. Only for us to clash together again, her mouth offering a small, thoughtful smile.
“I already know what you really are. I know everything about you.” The smile soured. “I gave you those gifts. And yet, you never—”
The black crawled further up the veins of my staff. Ascended, my fucking hands—-
She went for another slash, and again, I evaded her.
“Would be an excellent time to come back now, Tisaanah,” I barked.
Please, Tisaanah, I know you can do this.
The world went red, then white. Suddenly my back was against the wall and my side was on fire. When I opened my eyes, I saw fresh blood dripping from Il’Sahaj’s glittering blade. A blade that she raised, and then —
I ignored the scream of my body as I rolled out of the way.
She lurched again, her movement sloppy and too slow. And there it was again, an opening: I could slash the backs of her calves. It would force her down. Easily repaired, if I was clean about it.
If I was clean enough. If I wasn’t, she might never walk properly again.
I raised my blade, setting up the movement. But then my eyes met hers for one moment, and my heart lurched, and my hand paused for a moment too long.
And then another figure appeared out of nothing, flickering to life like a shadow emerging from those red butterflies and striking Tisaanah’s back with lethal precision.
I heard only my friend’s voice as she let out a cry of pain. And I knew I should take the opportunity as I saw her fling Ariadnea off of her, as I saw her stumble as blood ran down her back. But my hands were still. Even as she straightened and turned to me with a frenzied glare. Even as she raised her blade again with a shriek.
But then, she froze. Her body twitched, and then lurched. I’d only lived this, never seen it from the outside, but I knew exactly what was happening.
I didn’t need to look to know that Sammerin was beside me, one arm raised, his brow knotted in concentration. He drew his fingers into his palm. Tisaanah’s body let out a sickening series of cracks as it lurched to the floor, her limbs askew.
The butterflies were dripping down the walls like thickened blood.
Her eyes clung to mine. Fury melted into terror. She let out a strangled sound that didn’t sound human. Probably because Sammerin was tying her muscles into knots, forcing her lungs to shrivel until her brain relinquished consciousness.
I dropped to my knees beside her. Rot was still pulsing across the floorboards, softening them beneath our feet. I didn’t notice. I didn’t notice anything but the way her terrified gaze found mine and looked nowhere else.
I’m sorry, I wanted to tell her. I’m so sorry.
Her breathing convulsed, fighting the whole way as her eyelashes fluttered.
Crack!
If I’d been able to look away, I would have seen that the wooden beams of the building were beginning to give beneath the tendrils of decay.
“This is coming down.” I heard Nura’s footfalls land beside me. “Time to go.”
I scooped Tisaanah up in my arms and stood, and I didn’t look at anyone as I carried her out of the building, her limbs suddenly limp as Sammerin released her body from his control.
