The longer he watched, the deeper the pit in Rafe’s stomach grew, though he couldn’t pinpoint precisely why. He was used to the role of outsider looking in, and this was no different—perched on a rooftop, watching the revelry without taking part. And yet, as he watched his brother, for the first time uncertain of what was going on in his head, Rafe realized he wasn’t accustomed to this feeling, not at all, not when it came to Xander. And as his eyes flicked to Lyana, the image of the alluring girl in the cave—the one who had looked at him as though he might be the start of something—was shriveling away, replaced by a princess he hardly knew.
It was good.
It was how it was supposed to be.
Nevertheless, the gaping hole in his chest that no one else could see ached. Rafe glanced at the guards circling overhead, but didn’t move. He kept his wings against his back and gritted his teeth as he turned again to the square, forcing himself to watch no matter how much it hurt, because there was no other option but to suffer in silence, which he did, keeping his eyes glued to the happy couple. His diligence was the only reason he saw Lyana freeze.
A moment later, he understood why. The air prickled with magic. A static charge made the hairs on his arms stand tall and sent a tingle down his spine.
She looked up, searching the sky.
Her eyes found him instead, widening before quickly dropping back to the square and the people around her. He didn’t miss the frown creasing her forehead or the way her feathers bristled. He looked away, trying to shut out the world, if only for an instant. And that was when he felt the ground beneath him tremble—a small, subtle thing.
Rafe jumped to his feet, alarmed. The shingles on the roof vibrated ever so slightly. The water in the twin fountains on either end of the square rippled, not from a splash, but from movement unseen. He found Xander in the crowd, noticing how his brother smiled at a jewelry vendor, admiring his wares, unconcerned. Rafe turned to Lyana, but the princess had been pulled into a nursery game with some children, holding their hands as they skipped in a circle. He’d experienced earthquakes before, but this felt different, bigger, yet no one else seemed to notice or care.
The fizz of magic dissipated.
Then everything happened all at once.
A rumble turned into a roar and the ground violently shook, sending half the crowd to their knees as the stones along the floor of the courtyard ruptured. The statue in the center of one fountain broke, and a torrent of water spewed like heavy rain. Parts of the river splashed over the barriers, sending waves across the already slick cobbles. Laughter turned to screams. Through the chaos, a deafening crack split the air.
Where?
Where?
Rafe searched for the source of the sound, gaze jumping to the bridge connecting the two sides of the square, to the black arches of the spirit gates, to the stone façades of the buildings around the perimeter.
Then he saw.
All the buildings close to the river were set on low columns, no more than four feet tall, to escape the flooding that happened each spring. And one of those columns was now splintered down the center, a spidery fissure that crept up into the building above. The crack spread, foot by foot, higher and wider, like a snap of lightning cutting through stone.
The world continued to shake.
The stones began to teeter.
The surface wobbled.
A flash of white caught Rafe’s eye. Two ivory wings spread, but didn’t move, didn’t launch into the air like many ravens had done in the confusion.
She was still, shocked.
With her head angled up, she stared in horror at the avalanche of rock ready to crush her.
44
Lyana
Lyana couldn’t move as the building behind her started to crumble. All she could do was stare as the rocks spilled loose, slowly at first, one dropping and rattling across the street, then another and another, until all at once the entire façade toppled, dropping almost in slow motion as the wall of solid stone made for her head, falling, falling, falling—
Something slammed into her from the side.
Lyana rolled painfully across cobblestone. Arms wrapped around her, holding her to a hard chest and closing her wings. The world disappeared as onyx feathers arched overhead.
“I’ve got you.”
The words were rough, raspy, and gone in a flash.
They reminded her of a dark cave back home.
They made her feel safe.
Two seconds later, they were replaced by a groan as the stones fell. The crunch of bones and the snap of feathers filled her ears. Lyana closed her eyes as though she could make the sounds fade, but they didn’t. The fact that it wasn’t her pain that she heard made it worse. Rafe was crushed, but still, he kept his elbows bent so he held the weight of the debris away from her body, keeping her safe against the ground beneath them. He trembled with the exertion. Another scream tore up his throat.
It was her turn to whisper. “Hold on. Hold on.”
Lyana managed to twist her palms and press them to his chest. The dark shadows receded as the area around her hands shone gold and she pushed her magic beneath his skin, trying to give him strength.
“Hold on.”
He had no breath for words, but it didn’t matter. His magic rose to meet hers, sizzling beneath his skin, so familiar, so forbidden, so frantic, a long-lost lover coming home. Their gazes met fiercely across the subtle shine of power, a moment that extended into infinity.
Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed. The weight of a hundred men landed on her as his muscles gave out. Her chest burned beneath the pressure. Spots filled her vision. The last thing she saw was her magic extinguish before the world faded completely.
45
Xander
An ear-piercing silence filled the square as he and the others watched the dust settle—the sort of quiet that made hairs stand on end, that made the heart stop, that made the world slow as though even the open sky were too small to contain the mounting terror.
Reality came back bit by bit.
The ground fell still. Droplets sprinkled across the stones, the pitter-patter repetitive and loud as water continued to splash in the shattered fountain. Sunlight pushed through the ashy cloud, dissipating it. A single stone broke loose and tumbled down the chaotic mound and across the floor, coming to a stop a few seconds later.
Then the first scream sounded.
It took Xander a second to realize it had come from his own throat.
“Lyana!” The word burned, as though claws had cut their way up his neck. Lightning ran down his spine, a jolt so scorching he had no choice but to jump into action. “Lyana!”
Xander flew across the square. Others followed, screaming their own sets of names. Where only minutes before there had been so much light and life, now there was a pile of rubble ten feet high and no telling how many bodies were buried underneath, caught in the crashing tide before they’d had a chance to fly away. He knelt, grabbing a stone in his left hand, his right arm shaking in fury as he tried with no success to pull it rock away. His grip was tight, his muscles strained, but he couldn’t get a good hold with only five fingers instead of ten. Another set of hands quickly came into view, helping him shift the stone. Xander looked up, about to give thanks, when he met the eyes of his captain.