Page 264 of Burn Her They Said
I clap him on the shoulder and shake my head. “You didn’t mean to.”
He casts his gaze downward and sends his cool healing magic down my leg. It settles over my ankle with a tingle, and I knit my brows as my hearing clears even more.
I turn my head and scan the area, though the dust obscures any sign of her, and there is nothing to indicate Malin, Lars, or Fray are okay.
“Have you tried to form a shield to pick up any of the rocks surrounding the largest one?” Cirrin asks, and I nod. “Try again. Try to lift them like you have Tasch.”
And a fucking bomb. But I keep the thought to myself and swallow against the knot forming and build the shield enough to shove it within the sliver of space between pieces of rubble, then stop when it hits something.
“I can’t get under it because I can’t imagine what it looks like. I can’t sense it the same way I can with Tasch’s skin.” Heat blossoms beneath my cheeks as I admit to sensing the warmth of her skin, which guides me when I cannot envision the covered parts of her body.
Up until now, anyway, when I fucking failed her.
“I’ll describe it to you.” His voice is filled with an optimism I cannot even begin to fathom experiencing. “On the left side, there’s a long gray rectangular stone.”
I close my eyes and shift the shield past my field of vision, trying to imagine it, then growl in frustration when it slams into yet another barrier. This is taking too long, and Cirrin can’t see my shield to guide me any more precisely than this.
“It’s not working. I can’t get beneath it to lift.”
Cirrin nods and turns to scan the area while my heart slams against my ribs.
We need to find her. I don’t give a shit what happens to my leg.
Fuck it. “Stand back. I’m going to try to blast it off.”
Cirrin’s eyes widen as he rises, then clambers backward over more of the rubble while the force magic sizzles in my fingertips until it builds to overtake my palms. I point at the pile just before it bursts from me, kicking up dust as it forces the smaller shards to fly off. Then my heart sinks as the weight of the largest chunk remains, pressing into my Godsdamned leg.
“Fuck!” I exclaim, with the anger pulsing through my veins amplifying my power until my heart lurches in recognition of this exact sensation.
No. No. No. I can’t let that happen again.
I force my gaze to the night sky above us. My eyes grow wide as sparks emanate from my body without my controlling it—the shape of which warbles and grows faster than I can contain. I can’t use this power anywhere near a limb. Not if I plan to keep it. So I stare up at the stars and send the burst of energy out through the gaping opening.
Cirrin turns to catch my eyes before directing his gaze back toward a large section of ceiling that is dropping directly toward us.
Did I just send my magic through the gap, only to condemn us to be crushed to death?
Cirrin screws his eyes shut as I throw my shield over us. My pulse throbs low and slow, and something feels off, with the shimmering outline feeling thinner than usual. The force emanating from my being feels unstable, and I don’t know that anything can be done to stop it.
We cover our heads—as if our arms could do anything to protect our skulls—while memories flash behind my closed eyes.
Tasch’s voice carries through the covers I hide behind, though I can sense her gaze fall over my form, with something tethering me to her presence already. My breath steadies as she so patiently waits by the bed, without asking or demanding me to reveal myself. And when she talks to me, she infuses a respect, an understanding. Helping me to feel ready. So I sit upright and allow the blankets to fall so she can see me for the first time.
Those aquamarine eyes land on mine with a magic unlike anything I’ve known. Settling my soul as it rests, no longer begging for escape from this misery like every moment before this.
Recalling so many firsts?—
The first genuine smile she shared with me. The one that stretches the corners of her lips and forces her cheeks to rise so high it crinkles the lines on the sides of her eyes.
The first time I made her laugh after a terrible attempt at being humorous.
The fire in her eyes every time she puts up a fight, her words drawn like daggers.
I blink back the past to see if my shield held and marvel at the enormous piece of stone shuddering through the air, as if whoever is saving us must be low on magic.
Something draws near from within my periphery, and I turn to where Malin steps down from the mound of debris. Tension in my chest relents as I wait for Lars to come behind him. Then my brows furrow when no one does.
Malin’s eyes flit around and study our faces. “Thank the Gods.” His voice holds steady, though a hint of concern hides within it.
