I eye all four items, my wariness increasing when he hammers the pole into the ground, his muscles bunching with every strike, until it stands securely and doesn’t move when he leans on it.
As soon as he threads the chain through the hole, wrapping it securely around the pole before attaching one end of the rope to one of the links, I take a step back.
I bump right into Christiana.
“I’m sorry, Aura,” she says. “This is going to hurt, but we can’t take any chances.”
Geordie reaches for me, his expression hardening. “Hands behind your back,” he orders me.
He’s going to tie me to the pole, but I can barely move my right arm, let alone extend it behind me. “No. My shoulder—”
“Give me your hands!”
I’m still nursing my right arm across my chest. I’m already at breaking point. Any increase in pain will be the final straw. My voice rises to a scream. “No!”
“Luciana Elect!” I recognize Maggie as she runs from the nearby building that houses the kitchen. She’s Null’s oldest resident. Her light brown hair is tied back in a single, long braid that thumps against her back as she runs.
Esther grabs Maggie before she can reach me. “That’s not Aura’s real name.”
Maggie yanks herself out of Esther’s hold. “What are you doing to her?”
Yesterday when I first met Maggie, she was hunched, aged, and sick with the Ebon Rot, but she was trying to hide it. I healed her. Now, she stands tall and strong, her hair glossy and her cheeks full of life.
“This woman saved my life,” she cries. “She isn’t like the other fae. Nathaniel trusts her. He loves her. Anyone can see that.”
Christiana reaches for her. “It’s not enough, Maggie. It’s my responsibility now to protect you—”
Maggie steps up to her. “You choose to ignore the truth because the truth makes you afraid. She is not our enemy.”
A deep, pained crease forms on Christiana’s forehead. “Until Nathaniel revives, we don’t know what she is.”
Maggie gestures at the pole and then me. “Aura’s in pain. She needs our help. Not to be tied up like an animal. She isn’t going to hurt us—”
“Didn’t you hear me? I can’t take that risk!” Christiana grips Maggie’s shoulders as the older woman stares at her, wide-eyed. “Until Nathaniel wakes up, it’s my duty to protect everyone. Including you. Even if I have to be a monster to do it.” Christiana is unyielding as she gestures to several trainees at the side. “Go back to Emily and the others, Maggie. We’ll call you when it’s safe.”
Maggie whirls as the trainees grab hold of her. “No! I won’t go. You can’t do this to her!”
She struggles and kicks, but she isn’t trained in combat and the more she tries to slip their hold, the harder they pull, forcing her back around the building and out of sight until her shouts fade.
I turn right into Esther’s fist.
The impact cracks across my temple, dropping me to the ground. Geordie catches me before I can hit the earth, yanking my arms behind my back at the same time.
I land on my knees.
My right shoulder pops.
Excruciating pain shoots through my chest and the world shifts, tilting in a sickening drop.
My scream fills the air and the ground moves beneath me as Geordie drags me back toward the pole. Sickening agony burns through me so fast that I dry-wretch into the dust. If my stomach weren’t empty, its contents would be all over the ground.
As soon as he draws me to a stop, Geordie loops the rope around my wrists and secures the rope to the chain. The chain through the pole means that I can’t attempt to fray the rope to free myself. It also means I’ll have to lift the pole from the ground if I want to escape—an impossible task while my shoulder is dislocated.
In the blurry distance, Hagan’s feet suddenly shift. His big body rolls off the table and he lands at a crouch, shaking his head as if he were trying to clear it.
Mathilda shouts for him to stay down, but he doesn’t appear to listen to her, rising groggily to his feet before he stumbles halfway down the stairs at the front of the hall.
“What are you doing to Aura?” he bellows, swaying on the spot, his gaze unsteady. He presses his hand to his head. “I heard her scream.”
His knees buckle as he tries to take another step. Reaching out to steady himself, he crashes against the railing, still shouting, “Christiana! Leave Aura… the fuck… alone…”
His eyes roll back and he drops where he stands.
Christiana is frozen, her eyes wide, but she quickly whirls back to me, bending to glare into my streaming eyes.
“What did you do to my husband?”
Gasping for air, I meet Christiana’s angry gaze. Last night, when Cyrian used his dark magic to swing me up into the air, she winced, as if she still had some empathy left for me.
Now, her expression is completely hard.
The edges of my vision blur and darkness threatens to overcome me. Inside the hall, Mathilda’s magic flares again, an inky black flash that spreads across my vision, widening and swallowing everything I see.
The silhouettes of the people standing guard around me warp and shift, indistinguishable from the dark light.
I don’t see humans anymore.
When I finally black out, all I see are shadows.
Chapter 6
I can’t breathe. The world explodes around me, white light rippling in every direction, filling the sky as I lie on the burning ground.
I’m facing upward.
I know I’m dreaming. The same dream I had yesterday in the greenhouse. But I have an impossible choice: I can continue to dream about my past or wake up to the pain that waits for me in the present.
I choose to dream.
Embers float across the sky above me, glowing pieces of ash and hurtling shards of wood that resemble tiny suns circling my location. The sun is my enemy. A fiery force that chases my power away every morning, but it can’t stop my energy emerging every night at dusk.
A raging fire burns behind me, its heat and light so intense that the crackling sounds drown out the footsteps of the woman who runs toward me.
I still can’t see her face.
Her features are concealed by a cloak of dark light that prevents me from seeing through it. Her silhouette glows crimson, but now I think the glow is from the fire raging behind me and the fiery embers flickering across the space above our heads.
She drops to her knees beside me, her dagger raised, its blade the only clear object in my vision. It is wickedly curved, a hunting knife.
The man darts across the space behind her, dodging the falling debris, swinging his own blade across the air, aimed precisely at her neck. Unlike the woman’s, his face is clear to me now. His features are drawn, dangerous, the anger in his brown eyes relentless. An older version of Nathaniel, but with lighter hair. His armor and blade are pristine, not a drop of blood on them, only ash falling around him, clinging to the sweat dripping down the side of his face.
Golden light pours from his blade as he swings it.
If the vision above me weren’t so horrifying, it would be beautiful. The man’s golden light crashes into the woman’s crimson silhouette and all of it is backlit with the brightest white skyscape. Three forces raging against each other.