He spun.
The dagger stopped an inch from his heart. Just stopped cold, hovering in midair, subtly vibrating. He watched it, unconcerned. Lyana’s jaw dropped. The blade did too, clanging uselessly against the ground. That was when she saw the mossy sparks glittering in the air to her left.
Lyana turned.
On her other side, a woman she hadn’t even noticed held her palm forward, dark olive magic simmering at her fingertips.
“Don’t be afraid,” the man who had been disguised as a priest murmured, drawing Lyana’s attention back toward him. Her gaze dropped to the body by his feet and the pool of blood already spilling onto the ground.
She was afraid of many things, but not of them.
“Get away from him,” she growled, voice throaty, possessive, and beautiful in its ugliness, as though torn all the way from her gut.
Lyana stood, whipping the strangers around her with her feathers as she flew the few yards to Xander’s body. Dropping beside him, she expanded her wings to hide them from sight.
“It’s all right,” she whispered into his ear, praying to all the gods that he would hear her. “It’s all right, Xander. I’m here. I’ll save you.”
Golden sparks flared on her palms, and she pressed them to Xander’s chest, sending all the magic and heat she possessed into the gaping hole above his heart. The power came fast, faster than she’d ever felt it before, a rushing torrent she struggled to control as it crashed into Xander. Lyana turned to glance over her shoulder, raising her eyes to their enemies as she kept her hands hidden behind her wings, half her mind on distracting them, the other half on healing him.
She addressed their leader. “Who are you?”
The man dropped his gaze to the curtain her feathers created, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”
Before she had time to respond with feigned ignorance, a violent wind whipped her wings, blowing her over with its force so she rolled across Xander’s body. The gust shifted, spinning and spinning until she was caught in a vortex, mind growing dizzy. Through the leaves and the branches and the dust littering the air, pale yellow flashes caught her attention. Magic. Unabashed magic. The power called to her like a living, breathing thing. Lyana pumped her wings, fighting the torrent as she dove behind a tree, using the branches like a shield as she dropped back to the ground. The wind continued to whip her, but with her wings closed and her arms holding on to the bark, it was useless.
The man in charge remained standing over Xander, the look in his eyes daring her to come out of the shadows. The other two stepped to his side, magic flaring at their fingertips, ready and waiting to be used.
“Who are you?” she asked, unable to stop herself.
The smile on the man's lips reminded her of the curved sliver of the moon, hovering on the edge of total darkness. He lifted his hand. Lyana gasped as golden sparks dazzled to life above his open palm. “There is so much to teach you, Lyana Aethionus. So much you don’t understand. But you will. In time, you will.”
“Where did you come from?”
“You know, Princess,” he said.
The gilded aura around his fingers lifted and pushed, crossing the distance between them to shower her in sunlight, a prickling brightness exactly like her own. Lyana found his gaze through the haze, realizing his deep blue eyes were now warm with subtle starlight. “In your heart, you’ve always known.”
Beneath the mist.
As soon as the thought came, she knew it must be true. Where else could they hide? Where else could they live with magic and without wings?
“Why are you here?” she insisted.
“For you.”
He stretched his hand like an offering—one she ached to accept. Because she wanted to go. Oh, she wanted to go. She’d never wanted anything more. Lyana had been waiting for this moment her entire life, all those days spent staring at the horizon, flying to the end of her isle, sure beyond a doubt that her destiny was somewhere else, something else. The promise in his words spoke to her soul. To embrace her magic. To leave this life and all its ties. To be free.
But she couldn’t abandon Xander.
Not like this. Not dying a slow death in the place where they were supposed to make their vows, supposed to promise each other trust and loyalty and faith before the gods.
“Let me save him, and I’ll come with you,” Lyana begged, her eyes on the shuddering rise and fall of Xander's chest. If the cost of freedom was his life, she would spend the rest of hers in a cage.
“No.”
He offered no reason, no explanation, as though his word was law, as though he was used to being obeyed.
Well, so am I.
“Then I’m not coming. And there’s no magic in the world that will make me.”
“You are coming.” The man squared his shoulders as he faced her. “Of your own free will or mine. That’s the only choice you have left.”
The magic in the air intensified. Lyana watched it blaze, trying to understand. The man on the left had made a voracious wind strike her. If she stepped out from behind the tree, he would simply blow her over like he did before. The woman to the right had stopped a knife in midair. If Lyana lunged for one of the discarded blades on the floor, she would simply fling it out of reach. Lyana was a healer, a simple, pure power she would never trade for anything in the world, but it was a useless power in a situation like this.
Or was it?
The golden aura around her thickened. The man in the middle watched her intensely, his magic curling around her arms and legs like bindings. He tugged on the power and she felt something push against her back, almost as though he were there, behind her, giving her a little shove. Her will to fight was strong, yet her body obeyed the silent command—to go, to follow, to surrender. Her feet skidded over dirt and stone. She walked forward even as she struggled.
Lyana stared at the man’s magic, unblinking, unyielding.
It was hers and yet different.
The longer she examined the shimmering tendrils, the more she saw not the rays of the sun, but the rainbow that came after the storm—wisps and specks of every color imaginable, twisting and circling together. A memory floated to the surface, of those same colors shooting from the god stone, wrapping her in its loving arms, and filling her spirit with a power that hadn’t been there before, a power that was there now, aching, yearning to be used.
The potent magic stirred within her soul, vast and churning, a deep sea that had once been nothing more than a puddle of fallen rain.
Lyana closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
When she opened them, the world was changed, awash in bright, pulsating colors, a whole glowing spectrum that nearly burned her eyes. She gasped, arching her neck to gaze in wonder, even as her body continued to shift relentlessly forward. The trees were no longer just leaves and bark, but bright green strands that oozed with life. And the ravens hiding in the shadows suddenly glowed with a golden light edged in darkness that followed them as they flew. The sky overhead glittered with yellow and white sparks that crashed and whirled together. The god stone was a deep and endless black, yet shone with a thousand beautiful hues like the surface of an opal. And the three people before her were magic come to life, skin radiant with the power hiding beneath. In the center of each of their chests was a golden starburst, humming with a force she recognized.