Page 263 of Burn Her They Said
I pull in a deep breath as my vision clears, and I stare at a large gray chunk of stone separating me from where she last stood. Confidence, or something like it, strikes me as I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my whole world must be on the other side of this boulder, and a spark of urgency courses through my muscles with the need to do everything in my power to find her.
Crumbling shards fall on my shoulders, and I pull in a sharp breath from the piercing pain of a larger chunk landing on my leg. I frantically scan through the thick haze as the sharpness and the weight of it radiate.
Why wasn’t I protecting her like I promised?
And why didn’t Cirrin say something?
He was right behind me.
Fuck. Where is Cirrin?
I twist around and grab hold of the jagged edge of the boulder behind me, pulling myself up until pain shoots up my leg. But I can’t see anything aside from more broken stone, obscuring everything below my knee.
I try to pull myself up again, but my foot is trapped. My knuckles scrape over stone as I reach in between those crushing my lower leg. I grasp what I can and try to lift it without any luck because it’s wedged in too tightly.
I straighten to look around, yet the dust is too heavy for me to see much of anything. My pulse pounds heavier, and I scream, “Tasch!”
A harsh ringing fills my ears as I strain, needing to hear if she says anything. I need to hear anyone as I bend and desperately try to lift the broken stone off of my leg. But there are too many fragments, and they’re wedged in tight. So I send my shield down within the crack and try to lift the one I can see—but it won’t catch. I can’t get leverage. Damn this fucking need to be able to see, or at least be able to imagine what I’m trying to lift off the ground.
My heart hammers as I wish I had practiced telekinesis since I cannot think of how to try conjuring it.
Another crack sounds from behind my head as a large piece of stone slams into the one piercing the stage where we stood. A shudder runs through me, and I release a breath as fury churns in my chest, pressing against my ribs like it might burst. Like it needs to be released?—
That’s it.
I pull on my love for her and still with the memory of how it feels when it’s just us—when we were flying together on Minea’s back—until I carve off a piece of my heart and send it to rove the rubble past the last place I saw her.
My pulse thuds heavily as the itch of energy builds within my fingers, and I try my best to listen as it blasts beneath the stone pinning me to the ground, forcing a small chunk to fall away. I release a breath and bend to grab the larger stone, then shift it from side to side, trying to work it off of me when it catches on a piece of debris, and more falls down around it.
Godsdamnit. I’ve only made it worse.
A spark of something embeds itself in my chest, feeling both natural and familiar. Feeling like her. Like the way she looks at me and considers my needs with adoration and devotion unlike anyone else I know.
The sensation of her love expands, trilling through my veins and settling my nerves.
A seed of doubt grows, and I swallow it, needing to believe this is real—even if it isn’t. Needing to believe this is her way of responding—of telling me she’s alive—and she returns the feeling. But there’s no way to know for sure. It could just be that asshole hope again.
The haze clears, and an Imperial Guard scrambles over the cluster of stones beside me. I grunt with the effort of holding my magic in as it swirls and tries to find a way out.
Because I can’t let that happen again. I won’t.
A hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I swivel around, then let out a breath when Cirrin stares back. The fabric of his mask shifts as if he is speaking, but I can’t make out anything he might be saying. I shake my head, then point at my ear.
He nods and leans down beside the stone holding my leg hostage.
“Did you see Tasch?” I yell, in the hopes he can hear me now that my own ears begin to clear.
Cracking and crumbling fill them now, bifurcated by the ear-piercing screams around us.
His warm brown eyes lift to mine, then he focuses his attention on trying to pry the smaller rocks away from the larger one. He reaches in, and I wince when he grazes my ankle.
I lean back to find a way to free myself without the use of my magic as his hand rises from the gap without any blood covering his fingertips. My lungs depress in relief since no healer can repair that which is no longer present in the body.
Cirrin tries to shift the largest rock to the side, and I cry out in pain as it slices into the side of my ankle.
“Let me guess—” I grasp my leg tighter to brace for the pain as he reaches in again. “Now it’s bleeding?”
Cirrin’s fingers swipe across the edge of my boot, and he nods. “I’m so sorry, Varic. I thought?—”
