Page 30 of Sword & Sacrifice

A single drop of blood dripped down Alistair’s nose and splashed onto his pristine white robes.

The tiny sign of victory filled Valerian with adrenaline. “You know what I think?” he taunted, pushing harder on the roots. The ice cracked around one of them, but it didn’t budge. “I think you didn’t allow me to continue anything. I think you can’t stop me. You aren’t powerful enough.”

A branch snapped above them and crashed to the ground. Valerian danced aside in time but almost tripped over a root in the process. He swore and hopped around until he landed on safe, solid ground again.

“I’ve been distracted,” Alistair admitted, his tone sleek and triumphant in a way Valerian couldn’t pin down. “With your body, I’ve made a new friend.”

Penn’s face flashed in Valerian’s mind, with the same naughty grin he’d worn during their last night together. Valerian’s teeth clenched and he snarled, “If you’ve hurt him—”

“Why would I hurt him?” Alistair asked. He tried to step forward, but one of the roots twitched toward him, and he put his foot back down. They remained at a standstill. “He’s been such delightful company.”

Does Penn even know that Alistair has taken over? Dread crawled up Valerian’s throat. He’d known Alistair could do quite a bit of damage while wearing his face, Valerian just hadn’t considered how close to home it might be. He shook the thoughts away. Penn was too smart to be fooled by appearance alone. Too inquisitive. He would notice the behavior change, and he was clever enough to not let Alistair know.

In his distraction, one of the roots almost reached him. Valerian stopped it with a thought and eyed Alistair, trying to form another plan. They were too evenly matched. Outside his own body, Alistair had lost some of his strength, but he kept his skills and knowledge from years of mental magic. They could face off against each other for days, neither of them gaining any real ground, until one of them succumbed to exhaustion.

Valerian wasn’t confident he could win the fight like this.

Before he could talk himself out of the stupid plan, he ran toward Alistair. The mage had been preparing for another mental attack, not a physical one. He didn’t even raise his hands to shield himself.

Valerian collided with Alistair and shoved the mage to the ground. Immediately, roots thrust up from the dirt and wrapped around them, tying them together. “Let’s see how you like it.”

The dirt swallowed Alistair’s reply as they were dragged below the surface and into one of Valerian’s memories.

Chapter Fourteen

Halfway across the bridge, the ice softened under Penn’s feet. One step it was hard as granite, the next, his boot sank two inches deep. He stumbled and threw his arms out wide to catch his balance. “Fuck, it’s melting!” He glanced over his shoulder at Valistair, hoping the mage could regain control over his spell before they had to run across the failing structure.

Valistair had stopped dead in his tracks, his hands limp at his side. The pupils of both eyes were blown wide, overpowering the hazel and blue with pure black. Blood trickled from his nose, staining his shirt and plopping down onto the ice.

“Val?” Penn called, momentarily forgetting the danger as he reached out to steady the mage. His hand closed on empty air when Valistair’s eyes shut, and the mage slumped to the side.

Straight into the icy water.

“Valerian!” The ice had grown slick under Penn’s feet. After two steps, he slid over the edge of the melting bridge and into the river.

The current that had initially slowed because of the ice dam now burst through the weakening blockade. The water flowed over Penn’s head, pushing him down to the riverbed. He kicked hard against the rocky bottom, pushing himself back up. When he broke the surface, he gasped in a ragged breath, then closed his mouth as the water splashed over his head again.

The second time he surfaced, he managed to stay above the water as he searched for Valerian.

Up ahead, he caught a glimpse of blond hair, a body being carried downriver with no signs of a struggle. From that distance, Penn couldn’t tell if Val was face up or face down. He swam toward Val, every frantic stroke accompanied by a desperate plea. Please don’t be dead. Please, please, do not be dead. That wasn’t how Penn wanted to save the world from Alistair—not at Valerian’s expense. You’re a damn mage! You can’t let something a stupid as drowning kill you!

The last image of Val filled Penn’s mind, the vacant stare, the bloody nose, and a new fear filled him. Was Val dead before he hit the water?

Penn finally caught up to Valerian and wrapped his arm around the mage’s chest, then turned his attention to the shore. Swimming against the current was harder than swimming with it and only having one arm didn’t help. They were quite far downriver before Penn’s feet finally touched the riverbed, and he could stand up and haul Val out of the water.

Penn laid the mage on his back and pressed an ear against his chest, listening for a heartbeat. Fearing there would only be silence, he was surprised to hear a heart beating like a loud, angry drum. As if the mage was fighting for his life even as he lay immobile on the ground.

Penn cupped Valerian’s cheek. “Come on, Val,” he whispered. “I know you’re fighting him in there. You can win this. You can survive. And then we’ll defeat Niall together.” The last time he witnessed Valerian fighting Alistair, before he ever understood what was happening, he had Val’s bag of spells to intervene. Now Penn had nothing and no idea what to do.

He could only watch Val’s face and desperately cling to the man as he awaited the outcome.

“Valerian!” a voice shouted across the bar.

For a split second, Valerian’s vision hitched and wavered. An echo followed, someone else calling his name in desperation rather than anger.

The moment passed in a blink and Valerian sipped his ale, pretending he couldn’t hear Everett stomping toward him.

A heavy hand gripped Valerian’s shoulder and jerked him around. Ale sloshed over the side of his mug and splattered against both of their shirts.