The Blood of Darkness

Chapter 56

Kye

It all happens so fast.

One minute, Zyair is reading an admittedly beautiful passage from that old book, and the next the windows are shattering, shards of glass are raining down on us, and I'm tackling Val to the ground just as fractals of shooting pain lance through my shoulder. I dimly register Neve throwing her hands out, trying to block the glass with her wind magic, but her movements are too frenzied, and the fractures of glass seem to explode across the room, flying in every direction. Zyair screams. I squeeze my eyes shut.

Darkness sweeps in, heavy and overpowering. My ears begin to ring. For a moment, distorted screams echo in my mind. "Don't do this—please don't do this! I love you, I do, but I don't want this! Have you gone insane? No—NO—DON'T—" I see a young, fair-haired girl, maybe a few years older than me, falling from a cliff, hands floundering, eyes filled with horror.

Then. Then the girl turns into Val. And the ground below isn't jagged rocks, but a grassy field, dotted with white flowers, a picturesque sight of it wasn't for the black cloud of smoke hovering stagnant in the air, distorting the light of dawn eerily. The world tilts on its axis—I feel as if I've been knocked off balance in some fundamental way, as if everything inside me has been forever altered. No—no—no—no—

—slipping back in time to a city with rivers of blood in the streets, dead bodies hanging on the eaves of buildings, desperate hands grabbing at supplies, an empty mind, harsh words, hurt feelings, doors slamming—

—moving forward: dark forests, icy water, algid agony, raucous shouts, pale eyes wide with disbelief, murmured agreements, piercing stares, equally suspicious and hopeful—

—sleepless nights, maps and pencils and papers, hushed voices, anger, defiance, drops of blood in the snow, hope, two silhouettes, screaming, hands tearing through hair, mumbled words, apologies, silence, gasping, agonized sobs, failure—

Why is nothing I do ever enough?

"Kye? Kye, are you alright? Come on, please, Kye, please, I can't—"

I open my eyes. My back is on the floor now. Val is staring down at me, a crazed look of panic in her gaze. Before I even know what I'm doing, I'm lurching forward, reaching out, grabbing her by the wrists. She's here. She's safe.

She's not going to die.

Val's panic quickly turns into relief. Then anger, spreading across her lovely, menacing features. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" she demands, shaking my hands off of her.

I don't answer her, surveying her to make sure she's uninjured instead. "Are you alright?"

"Me?" She scoffs. "I'm fine. Because you fucking tackled me down, without any regard for your own safely—" She abruptly stops talking. "You're bleeding." Then she starts pulling at my shirt, trying in a sudden frenzy to get it off of me.

"Hey," I start, glancing at my shoulder, where dots of blood have stained my now-torn white tunic and fractals of sharp pain ebb through me. "Hey, I'm fine, I'm sure it's noth—"

"Guys, I don't think now's the time to tear each other's clothes off," Zyair says, stumbling to stand over us. He's holding a hand over his stomach. A hand wet with blood.

"Holy shit, Zyair—" Val and I both say at the same time, scrambling up to get to him. He's hurt, he's hurt, he's hurt. It's like shards of glass are raining down on me all over again, except this time, they're piercing my heart and I can't breathe.

Neve—there's blood on her face—appears beside Zyair and places a steady hand on his back, remarkably composed. "Yes, hold pressure on it," she tells him. "Let's go find Quinn and—"