Page 258 of Burn Her They Said
Feeling cold and alone, while left unprotected as my Guards continue their assault on Sal. Oblivious to the challenges now laid before us. With our plan of extraction lying in ruins, and the most dangerous sorcerer on the Continent even more so than we ever imagined.
My eyes flutter shut as an image flashes in my mind?—
Dust covers everything around me.
I shake my head, but the vision will not relent.
Giant slabs of marble falling. Scattering in piles of rubble.
My lungs sting with the amount of air I pull in.
“Tasch!”
Varic.
My vision clears, and I’m still here. It’s merely my imagination.
Run.
Something urges, something with the impression of a Dragon’s warning—Mirinea? But it wasn’t her voice. Though it was feminine and wizened, with the sense that it came from a Dragon. Even with a strong wish to follow the missive, I cannot seem to move my legs. Besides, where would I hide? The safe room, which only entraps me in the Palace?
Go to him. Now!
I spin around to find the messenger, though the voice comes from inside my mind, not anywhere I would be able to see who or what it is.
Then I turn to the left when a low humming sounds from the bottom of the stairs. I blink back tears pricking my lash line as I cannot believe what I am seeing—with Drusilla and Imelda standing hand in hand with a small circle of witches before the stage.
I tear my gaze away to stare at His Majesty, unsure why no one—not even the soldiers or witches along the perimeter, nor the telekinetics at the end of every pew—has thought to interfere with this aberrant behavior. Bewildered, I await the Emperor to demonstrate his ire with my not having followed where he stands when I stop in my tracks with my pulse pounding from the terrible crack lashing through the air.
Panic courses through my veins as the harrowing cries of citizens rise. My blood goes cold when I spin around to find Varic and encounter clouds of dust falling over everything, tainting the air with the acrid scent of burning wood.
I cough into my hand as I cover my mouth and nose, trying to keep more debris from invading my lungs.
The tell-tale sting of explosives takes hold in my eyes and throat as I let out a scream for the being who was meant to be next to me.
“Varic!”
Chapter Eighty-Five
Impossible
But the Imperial Palace is said to be impenetrable.
“Varic!” I scream again, shielding my eyes with my hand.
I blink against the dust caking my lashes and cry out his name. My feet slide over the stage as I spin with the hope he can hear me. My heart hammers as I scream for Lars with the hope that his keen hearing can pick my voice out of the chaos.
Another crack sounds overhead, and I cough and gasp as I wave my hands. Though it fails to clear the air enough for me to make out the black uniforms of my Guards.
Screams rise as more dust falls over us, enveloping everything in a thick cloud.
Why isn’t there any amber?
Why can’t I feel the heat from Varic’s gaze?
Wouldn’t I be the first one he would seek in a situation like this?
“Varic!” I scream as another section disperses the gray cloud as it falls.
