“Elden, why are you against me? All I have ever served is your precious Icarean Prerogative.”
Celindria dodged a blow and somersaulted over her wing shield to counter the next one strike. All the while, she kept tracking the split in the seam of Nox’s skin. Threads of muscle and tattered bone held him together, allowing the light of Elden’s essence through the gaps.
Nox was dying, and Celindria found herself unable to bear it.
This grief is stifling us.
We cannot win with all this emotion.
But it’s not our emotion. It’s mine.
Curse the Celindria from the blissful Probability. Didn’t she see how she was endangering them both?! And with the Shadow tranquilizing Tameka, Celindria was short one more valuable weapon in her shrinking arsenal.
Elden pushed at her mind and read Celindria’s attacks in advance. She felt him wriggling in there like a worm in her ear. His attempts to drain her nacre had left her limbs blocked in cement. Every evasion took all her force of will and concentration.
The Shadow were surmountable.
This—whatever Elden had upgraded into—was proving less so. And his choice of vessel deterred her from lethal attacks. Celindria tried to breach his volition, as she’d done with Tameka. One drop of blood was enough. Usually.
There was plenty of Nox’s blood on the ribbon, now soaked with Celindria’s red, blue, and yellow blood. So why…
“Relent, Elden! Return Nox to his own volition! You’re killing your descendant.” Nox deserved a better death. Celindria believed this in her bones.
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Elden didn’t talk. Instead…
Kinetic energy prickled along Celindria’s spine and charged the fibers of her hair before she could evade the first bolt of lightning.
Second.
Third.
It came down faster than rain, and its lethal potential left Celindria breathless. An involuntary avian cry tore from her throat when sparks struck her back—more painful than Korac’s lashings. She smothered the burning of her gown against a golden wall and ricocheted off of it in time to avoid another bolt.
Heavier and heavier, Celindria’s legs refused to respond, and she could no longer resist the mental prying.
The desert at night.
A clear starry sky, and the kiss of a cool breeze on Celindria’s cheeks.
She sat on a dune with Xelan. No tests. No lectures on how to feel normal. Just her and him, stargazing. “Father, which constellation is your favorite?”
Xelan chuckled, closed one eye, and used his finger to trace a figure on the points of the stars.
As it took shape, Celindria recoiled and asked in an incredulous voice, “A wolf?!”
“A dog, actually. I named him ‘Speckle.’ A simple cluster of suns—What? Don’t you like it?” Humor danced in Xelan’s eyes.
Celindria laughed, but conceded with a nod. For a few minutes, she’d felt the briefest glimpse of content in her father’s company—
“NO!” Celindria broke through the memory, shrieking like a bird, and it reverberated along the chasm.
But it was too late.
Elden had pinned Celindria on the bridge. He sat on her diaphragm, knees crushing her wings, and one hand was poised to retract her nacre. If these were Nox’s Atramentous eyes, she’d see her reflection. Instead, the blaze of Li threatened to consume Celindria.
No shadows to escape through.
No volition to steal.
No gift, nor weapon, nor soul can save us now—
“Oomph!”
Elden went barreling over Celindria’s head along the bridge, entwined with another set of arms and legs. Black hair, slenderer build, but still formidable. Xelan pinned Elden into the alcove across the ravine and turned to check on Celindria. Then his midnight Atramentous eyes looked beyond her to the other side.
“Now!”
Exhausted and drained, Celindria got to her feet in time to see Rayne charging for her. The First Progeny groaned before impact.
What did the Progeny think they would accomplish?
They’re here to save us.
Over our dead bodies.