Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Eye of the Storm

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Regardless of how much I didn't want to scream, there's nothing I can do as the weapon tears through my dress and skin. It rips muscle and organ, burns through my willpower and strength. The force of it throws me backwards onto the grass, and I lay statuesque in a puddle of filth.

Zula yanks the trident out and raises it for another strike. Blood drips off the end of it and mixes with the tears rolling down my cheeks. Both are completely uninvited, unwelcome, and unavoidable.

I reconsider my facade of strength. Maybe begging isn't such a terrible idea. I could beg him to make it fast. End the pain. Let me be with my mother again.

Whatever it takes to make it stop.

But as I lay there in the grass, watching time slow to a crawl, I feel a little weight on my chest. Finn.

He needs me.

I can't give up yet.

I lift my chin and watch the storm rage overhead. Thunder cracks across the clearing, but there's no more lightning. The wind screams around me, sounding briefly like the shouts of charging soldiers. The ground trembles like the stampeding of hooves.

A gust of wind pushes my head to the side, and I begin to cry for an entirely different reason.

Men dressed in the metallic armor of Anjord have swarmed the clearing. A dozen of them surround Jett and Lot, taking on the massive men with everything they've got. Two more have distracted my uncle. He glances at them for the briefest moment before flicking his wrist in their direction. The tentacles materialize again, diving into the men's chests. When they withdraw again, two still-beating hearts lie clenched in their hold. The men drop to the ground, lifeless.

Zula turns toward me once again, so I push myself up and wiggle through the mud, trying to get away from him. Every movement sends new fire up my back. I have to get away, though. Have to live. Have to run. Have to—

Before I can finish my list, a dark shape rams into Zula, knocking the warlock off his feet. They go rolling across the soaked ground, and I'm able to catch a glimpse of blond hair as the soldier rises with his sword in hand.

William.

Eero's guard looks over at me. His eyes roam over my body, taking inventory of all my wounds. Concern flicks across his face, and he mouths, "You okay?"

It's all I can do to shake my head.

William nods—just once—and points his sword in Zula's direction.

"Wait! Don't!" I choke out. "Watch out for his—"

The word "magic" dies in my mouth as Zula flashes forward on a wave of purple energy and drives the trident through William's chest. Zula hoists the guard off the ground, holding him in the air like a speared fish. Amethyst lightning dances across William's skin; fear glints in his green eyes. He looks desperately at me, but...

There's nothing I can do.

I can't save him.

"Idiot human," Zula spits, digging the trident further into my friend's chest. A disgusting squelch fills the air between us, and I scream for him to stop. He ignores me, of course, and with a bored flourish, he flicks William off the end of his weapon. Then, he turns towards me again. "It's time, niece. Let's just get this over with."

The center most, longest tip of his trident presses against Finn's prison as he stands over me. The poor little flounder flops uselessly for a minute. Is he scared? Gods, I hope not. The glass trembles under the pressure, and spiderweb cracks fissure across the surface.

Panic seizes me.

Not Finn.

He cannot hurt Finn.

The glass suddenly shatters, and time stops. Everything freezes, floating in midair as gold and purple implode on us. As I watch, the gold threads transform into daggers, aiming themselves at Zula's head. I focus, hard, and wrap the remaining threads around him.

I know it's wrong. I know it's too similar to something he would do, but it's one of the only cards I have left in my hand.

My magic glues him in place. Like it did to Maj back in Zula's hollow, it invades his muscles and nerves, shutting down his autonomy. His pupils dilate in frozen shock.

Clutching the broken strings and shards of sharp glass, I pick myself up and wade through the mud towards him. The golden daggers stay in place, dull in the storm gray air. His magic presses against my hold on him, threatening to overpower me, pressing at the sides of my head like a lobster's grip, making my vision falter. I don't let go, though. I can't.

My body trembles as I stand in front of him. Magic gathers in a sizzling ball in my hand. All I have to do is launch it at him. One hit. That's all it would take. I gaze up at him, letting the energy gather.

Rain flattens his dark hair to his face. The once-black strands are now mostly white, a sign that he's more Zula now and less Ursus. His clothes are plastered to him, and his skin glow a sickly shade of lilac. I can see my father's jawline in his, the way it curves across his face and frames deep eyes.

I'll never understand how two men can be related and somehow be so different.

As I raise my hand, ready to deliver a killing blow, a cold voice speaks in my head.

You're not so different from me after all, Arielle, it says. I hesitate. All this power, and you're wasting it fighting for the humans. Think of what you could do if you fought against them. With me.

That's when I know it's Zula. "I would never side with you," I manage to hiss out despite the growing pressure in my head.

Zula cackles wildly, even though his body never moves. Naive little girl. You've no idea the potential you and I have together. You've barely scratched the surface of what you can do. With me, you'd be untouchable.

"I don't want to be untouchable. I don't—want power—" The words are forced out through gritted teeth as my magic wavers. I don't have much strength left, much time.

Suit yourself.

A massive crack of lightning peels through the sky, striking the ground on the other side of the meadow. Energy crackles through the air; sparks fly. Everything shakes. My golden magic dims for a half a second, but it's enough for Zula to break free of my hold. He screams angrily and charges, surrounding himself with wild, purple tendrils.

Desperate, I throw everything I have left as his stampeding form. The slender, dagger-like apparitions reappear and hiss as they burn through the air towards Zula. There's nothing he can do as they slice through his skin, leaving deep gashes in their water. For a moment, his body ripples like water, and he stumbles backwards. The gashes spread, revealing huge black cracks all over him.

Zula blinks at me, going still as his body continues to rupture.

"This isn't over," he rasps. "I am power. You will learn that, one way or another."

"No," I whisper back, voice tight from the pain constricting my body. "You're broken. I already knew that, though."

With a grunt, I push my magic forward one more time, and gold envelopes him. His screams tear through the clearing as the light grows brighter and brighter. The air burns with heat, weight on my skin. I cover my head with my hands, screaming in tandem with him, as the pressure becomes too much for me to handle. My ears pop; my stomach turns. A high-pitched ringing replaces his yell of pain, bouncing back and forth between my ears. I gasp for breath but find none.

It's too much.

Too.

Much.

Then, as quickly as it begins, it stops.

The gold swells once more, and I slam my eyes shut to prevent it from blinding me.

But when it fades, he's gone. 

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