I opened my second eyelids. I needed to move faster than my limbs could carry me—as magic, I moved like the air, racing through hallways in a
stream of flame.
Inside, I was greeted by a tableau of death. It was a bloodbath. The floor was slick with violet and crimson, mixing together like running paint. The Fey, apparently, wasted no time. There were already bodies everywhere, mostly Threllians clad in white. As I ran, I threw open doors and smashed windows to give people avenues of evacuation. Most of the slaves knew that we were coming and had found a way to get out if they could, but those who hadn’t been able to now clustered huddled up in bedrooms or closets.
With every room I searched, I grew more panicked.
Where are you, Tisaanah? Where are you?
I reached down, down, down, like a coin falling into a well, searching for her in the dregs of the magic we both drew from.
And…
There.
There she was. A wordless answer to my call: Here I am. Come to me.
I obeyed.
