Page 212 of Burn Her They Said
I did not endure all of this just to allow this fucker to hurt us.
My magic hums higher, louder, and brighter as I relish the sensation, overpowering His Majesty by influencing him past anything he would allow, were he even close to being capable of stopping me.
The dark gray spear protruding from Varic’s chest wavers, flickering as the Emperor draws on some deep-seated fury within himself. I watch with a small smile tugging in the corner of my mouth for his failure to recognize which of us is stronger, only ever lauding me when it is to his benefit, without seeming to understand how I might be bold enough to use my power against him.
Varic’s eyes fill with tears as he peers up at me, bent and hovering. His expression twists with concern, and I shake my head, sending him reassurance in the form of a fleeting glance—hoping he understands I will not stand by and allow the Emperor to hurt him.
I pulse contentment into His Majesty when my heart jolts in my chest as Varic falls forward. Then relief washes over me when the spear which pierced his chest vanishes.
But it’s not over yet, because His Majesty gathers his force to send it in an undulating blanket over the ground, hurtling toward me like a fast-moving cloud.
Varic’s amber shield expands from my skin to surround me just before the dark gray of the Emperor’s magic envelops the orb, circling it in a thick webbed pattern, allowing me to see their expressions everywhere it thins.
Emperor Aldritch glares down at Varic. “So, you can shield her without alerting others.”
Shit. My heart drops to my stomach. Wishing we could have kept this secret a while longer. Because of course Danor would have told the Emperor if he could have sensed it.
Dread settles over my chest when the shield curves over my back and pulls me forward. Gravel spits and sputters from under my soles as His Majesty drags his magic back, forcing me closer, using its ability to wind around Varic’s shield.
His magic relents when I stand just behind the strongest force sorcerer on the Continent. One whose back rises and falls to indicate he’s still breathing, giving me the strength to keep going. For us.
The dark gray mist rises in the air, then separates to form the shape of two battle shields, which he sends to collide on either side of Varic’s torso, crushing him as he groans.
Rage fuels my energy as I send the Emperor a mix of compassion and empathy. Though neither of the emotions takes because this fucker is incapable of either—even when given to him fully formed. So I weave and send him a rope bound with doubt and confusion, forcing them into his mind until the tyrant’s expression flickers.
Varic grunts so convincingly, I can’t be sure if he’s just pretending. My heart hammers, and I can scarcely pull in a breath. Then his force-shield falls away from protecting me, and I cannot bring myself to look at him, needing instead to get us vengeance.
Skin prickling, power pulsing, I imbue the Emperor with a cyclone of confusion. Narrowing my eyes as I stare at him, I take joy in his gray brows knitting together in the center, allowing me to turn away and study Varic—where I catch my breath because the Emperor’s force-shields warble on either side of him. I squint and swear the edges of it dissipate—appearing as if Varic is siphoning the Emperor’s magic. I shake my head, uncertain if this is possible.
All I know is this ends. Now.
I glare at His Majesty, with a lifetime of our sordid history bearing down on me. Inundated with every emotion he has invoked in me, I gasp with the effort of restraining myself from filling his chest with every ounce of fear he’s instilled in me since I was young.
Influence him. The ancient voices command. You have the gift. Use it, Tasch.
Those who came before us remind me of my purpose—of my sworn duty to calm his fury. Empowering me to test a theory I’ve dreamed of since the day he took me. An unfamiliar use for my power, where I might influence him more with the use of words.
I send him pride with the message, ‘I was smart to appoint Varic.’
Satisfaction, with the sentiment, ‘Everyone admires my brilliance in appointing Varic.’
Contentment, with the lie, ‘Varic respects me. I have nothing to fear from him.’
The Emperor recalls his power, releasing Varic from the pressure. “Get up.”
My heart thumps heavily with the uncertainty of his reaction, weighing down my limbs as I await his summons.
The Emperor crooks his finger, and I walk with practiced reverence, then bow before him. “Your Imperial Highness.”
“You bring me shame with the way you so obviously reveal your weakness.” His eyes flick over to Varic. “I taught you better than this.” A smug smile spreads across his lips, and he spins to stomp toward his carriage.
I stare at the ground when the stairs screech under his weight—apparently unconcerned that his Guards seated above him remain incapacitated by my healer’s magic. Mille slams the door closed and latches it once the Emperor is safely inside. Then I let out a breath when he closes the curtains.
I turn to Varic, and my heart constricts with his head drooping low between his shoulders. My feet carry me closer to where he hovers while tears prick my eyes with the urge to grab hold of his hand and drag him into the forest.
That, or to drop next to him and scream.
But I cannot do either. Not with so many witnesses.
