Page 259 of Burn Her They Said
I bend down and cover my head with my hands, as if that will help protect me.
The stone hurtles toward a section of pews, clearing the air around it as a group of telekinetic Guards rush to the outer edge of the stage. I scan their outlines to try to find Malin’s hair bound above his head in any of the silhouettes, and my chest constricts when none of them wear the same style as he does.
Their magic rises to stop the giant slab from crushing everyone scrambling and screaming to make it out from below, then brings it down once the last of the citizens have left the area to crush the dark wooden pews beneath it.
“Lars!” I scream as I spin around, trying to remember which direction I last saw them, fearing my voice will reach those whom I do not wish to encounter while I try to capture my Guards’ attention. “Malin!”
Fuck. The Emperor cannot be killed by any of this. Not even if a giant boulder were to crush his chest. Or so he claims. Though nothing feels certain in this chaos.
“Fray! Please. I need you!” Please come find me.
A sob wracks through my body, and I have to rein it in. I cannot allow myself to break down right now—no matter how intense my fear is. I need to stay alert. I must be prepared to fight in case the assailants try to take me hostage.
I gather all the air my lungs can possibly hold to scream, “Cirrin!”
Tendrils of curiosity burst from my chest and search in every direction for my Guards’ magical signatures. Yet my power gets tangled in the mass of emotions being emitted from every other being.
The weight of terror overwhelms my senses as I search for them. My leg muscles burn while I remain crouched over the ground. I retract my weary magic and shake with the sensation of the last ember of hope feeling just out of reach—until a distinct purple mist billows past my periphery.
I turn to where Lars’ red streak of speed magic blurs just before his arms lift me from the ground. He slams my face against his chest, and I pull in a shuddering breath filled with his fresh pine scent. He rushes forward through the haze until we both gasp as our sides collide with the edge of a hidden boulder.
He releases his hold on me as sharp pain radiates from my hip and shoulder. We sputter and swat at the air to make out the shape of anything aside from the rubble around us.
“Did you see Varic, Cirrin, or Fray? Are they okay?”
“Yes, they’re alive.” Lars dusts off his shoulder. “Or at least, they were when I ran here.”
“Then why isn’t Varic shielding me?”
Silence answers me, increasing the sense of urgency to climb up and over the jagged stone to find them. My head swivels around to see where they once stood when another crack echoes through the air.
Lars and I turn to Malin as he falls to his knees and clenches his eyes shut. He sends his purple magic to swirl around the stones to bring them down carefully, aiding the other telekinetic sorcerers risking their lives to save us.
“Do you think we should try to heal him?” I turn to Lars, imploring.
He shakes his head with a sorrowful expression. “No, I don’t want us to hurt him.”
My magic detects the level of fear and anguish filling Lars’ chest as he witnesses his love struggling. I seek what I can find inside myself and balk at the sense of something powerful infiltrating my being, thrumming like the spell I felt powering me in Annovia—allowing me to send Malin threads of focus and calm.
His cheeks quiver beneath the stream of tears cleansing the dust from his skin to the edge of his mask, and my heart quirks when he glances up at us in acknowledgement.
“Should we take her to the safe room?” Lars yells.
I break off a sliver of the hope they’ve given me and imbue it straight into Lars’ chest.
“No! I cannot abandon them,” Malin yells back, gesturing where the dust settles around small groups of healers attending to every telekinetic sorcerer lining the edge of the stage. “Not until we locate everyone. I need to stay and help.” Malin’s words pierce my heart, as his must be made of gold from the sheer care he displays for those we would otherwise leave in danger.
“My power holds much longer than theirs can. Just look at how many telekinetics are in need of a healer.” He breaks my heart with the plea in his expression as he looks up at Lars. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
The magic I maintain with Lars indicates his chest is bursting with enough trust and admiration to fill the room around us. “I trust you,” he yells, and tightens his hold on me, seeking the pressure he would normally require from Malin.
My stomach turns with the prolonged absence of amber and blue magic. At the way not even Fray’s light gray is discernible from all the rubble.
Nor the tell-tale heat of Varic’s gaze to prove he’s alive and can see me.
“Do you know what happened to the Emperor?” I ask, glancing around with concern that he could be the next to find me.
“His Guards dragged him to the other side of the stage while he screamed for them to bring him to you.” Lars pulls a spare mask from the compartment in his leathers. “Here, this should help you breathe better.” He tugs it down over my head and secures it along the bridge of my nose. Despite the fact I’ve already inhaled so much dust, every breath through the fabric feels easier.
