Watching my own limb disappear was surreal. A distant, logical part of my mind,

the one that has gotten me through hell, screamed that I needed to stop this before it got worse. But what could I do?

The power I'd unleashed on the army now lashed back at me, starting with my fingers. Mesmerized, I watched the process begin.

My cloak faded, rapidly aging to gray before disintegrating into dust. Unable to take anything in aside from the stump where my arm used to be, a hysterical bubble of laughter escaped my lips.

At least I didn't have to see my arm mummify.

The strange pause I'd found myself in shattered, and the logical voice that had been a distant whisper rose into a shrill, screaming siren in my ears. With a shuddering gasp, I released the spell and clutched my shoulder, which throbbed in time with my pulse. Pain hit like a wave, ricocheting through me and gaining force with each resurgence.

I held my breath, dread clawing at my insides, waiting to see if the spell would continue even after I stopped it. When a minute passed and the rest of my shoulder stayed intact, relief nearly knocked me over. But that relief was short-lived as slow clapping started from above.

Curling protectively around Maya, I glared at Silas. His smile twinged with cruel delight. “Now that was a show! I never thought you'd control time itself! Usually, he's downright ferocious about his power not falling into mortal hands. What a stroke of luck on my part!” He all but danced in place, and I bared my teeth, fighting through the pain to think.

No wonder Time didn't give out this power to people–I'd demolished my own arm without meaning to. That wasn't even considering how much destruction someone like Silas could cause with it. Hell, after seeing it in action, I wished Karma hadn't given it to me.

Shaking that aside, I forced my focus up to Silas and snarled. “If you think I'm going to use that spell again, you're insane!”

Even if it hadn't wiped out my arm, I wouldn't use it. I didn't feel bad about using it now because the enemy was undead. Judging by the near-fanatic glint in Silas's eyes, he had plans, and I doubted his next target would be undead.

Silas tipped his head back and laughed. “You'll find that you won't have a choice in the matter, Nikolas. You're hardly the first otherworlder I've charmed into my employ, and you won't be the last.” He glanced to his right, where Dominicus stood with a blank expression. “Just ask your friend here. He was pitifully easy to pull under my influence. All it took was a prolonged handshake, and he was mine.”

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Damn it, I hadn't considered he had some kind of mind control ability! Though if it was activated through touch…

Glaring up at Silas, I asked. “Why didn't you put me under immediately then? What was the point of playing nice?”

He'd clearly wanted me to use the power from the start, so what was there to gain from pretending?

He scoffed. “You're so painfully young and naive. Why should I waste the energy when you might have been persuaded without it? Some of my most loyal generals were otherworlders I summoned, and I never had to use my power on them. You, much like Dominicus here, require being brought to heel though.”

So Dominicus had refused to help him too. At least I knew he had an unwilling part in this mess. But what about Silas's ‘generals'? If they all had powers…just what kind of people were we up against?

A chill slid up my spine, and I abandoned the thought. I could spiral into an epic tier panic attack over that later. Now, I had other things to worry about.

Maya pulled at my arms, still trying to reach her father. If I loosened my hold for even a minute, she'd be gone. With that prick still smiling at us, I couldn't risk her being out of arm's reach. Ignoring her sobs, I held her closer and scowled.

“What is all of this about, anyway? Why are you summoning so many people here?” Even as I asked, a sour feeling twisted in my stomach, warning that I wouldn't like the answer.

I was right.

Silas waved his hand and floated down, using a spell to lower himself a few feet away from us. Once he touched the ground again, he answered with a smug smirk that grated on nerves.

“Isn’t it obvious, boy? I want to rule Nexus, but that pesky resistance kept interfering.” He rolled his eyes. “I've been chipping away at their forces, but I didn't expect them to attack all at once like this, and when my generals were gone too!”

Dread inched through my veins as his words sank in. The resistance… not the undead.

Slowly, the pieces started falling into place. The staff not killing the army, the way they hadn't jumped on Maya immediately. Everything came together in a sickening picture.

“What do you mean?” I asked, the words little more than a desperate wheeze.

Please, let me be wrong. Please, don't let me have–

Silas grinned. “Oh, that's right. The ‘undead’ army… well, that was a lie.” He gestured to Maya's father. “Thank you ever so much for taking care of these pests for me. I never could have done it without your help.”

Maya stared at the body of her father–not an undead version of him, but her actual father–and then looked up at me. Betrayal burned in her eyes, and it ripped a knife through my chest. The pain doubled when she whispered, “You…killed him?”

And what was I supposed to say to that? No? I'm sorry, I thought it wasn't really him?

My stomach swirled, threatening to evict its contents on the grass as I looked out at the hundreds of corpses, all half-withered away.

I'd done this.

With that thought, I lurched sideways and vomited for the third time this evening.