Page 99 of The Fury She Holds
A shadow filled the doorway. “I’d love for you to enjoy your sweet little reunion, but we have to go, NOW!” Sybil demanded and then jumped back into the fighting.
“Faron,” she began. “Faron, it’s Ed. He—”
He brushed hair out of her face. “It’s alright.” He met her gaze with tears in his eyes. “I know.” He offered a second vial of elixir, and her knee started to reform.
Tal’s face crumpled in a broken and bloodied mess. Tears burned on the cuts along her temples. Every gasping breath felt like her ribs had been ripped open and her heart was laid bareon the table. But tension grew in her sternum accompanied by a warmth she knew so well.
Faron caressed her hair. “Can you walk?”
She shook her head. “It’s a spell. I’m paralyzed.” A tear escaped and dropped down the side of her face into her hairline. Her fury battered its cage. She was ready.
Faron swore and began rummaging in his knapsack. Tal could hear the tinkling of several glass bottles being jostled around. “I don’t have anything for that. Can I carry you out?” He tried to get his arms underneath her, but some invisible barrier connected her to the thick wooden table. “What in the hells?”
“I might be able to burn through it. I need you to step back. I don’t know if I can control the fury right now.” Her voice shook. Her strength had not yet returned. Once she released her magic, she would likely lose consciousness again. She needed to stay awake long enough to get her friends out.
Her magic clawed at her throat like a wild beast. She barely held onto it by the time Faron had stepped into the corner of the room, eyes glued to her. Rather than open the gate containing the magic, Tal instead inhaled and eliminated the gate altogether. She embraced her fury with a sigh as if it had been gone for eons.
Suddenly, a new sensation filled her—one she’d never felt before. Usually, when she used her fury, a tightness remained within her that helped keep some of her power at bay. This time, she didn’t have the energy to hold back. Instead of feeling like a foreign thing warred within her, vying for control, Tal felt at peace, as if she and the fury were one and the same.
It started in her chest and built like flood waters being released. A soothing warmth spread to the ends of each of her limbs and grew in intensity. It was a heat unlike any other she’d experienced, like sunbathing on a summer’s day. It clawed itsway to the surface and warmed the skin there while healing the body underneath. It grew hotter and hotter until it turned cold.
“Tal?” said a voice in the corner.
She sat up. The spell melted away, leaving a rotten odor in its wake. Her fury still burned, but she didn’t try to control it. For once, she felt comfortable in her own skin, like she finally knew herself. She swung her legs over the side of the table, and that’s when she noticed the flames.
Her entire body was covered in them. No, her entire bodywasflame. The broken bones and bleeding, bruised skin was gone, and in its place burned a brilliant, golden fire that flicked this way and that. There was no distinct line between where Tal ended and her fury began.
She set her feet on the ground and stood, expecting to find the table turned to ash. The wood was nearly unrecognizable under all the blood staining it, but not a single burn marred the surface. She held a hand up in front of her face. Five distinct digits wiggled. She turned her hand over and could just barely see the bones and tendons working.
She turned back to the table and placed her hand on it, then pulled it away. Nothing happened, not even a scorch mark. She did it again. This time, she pushed the flame into the wood. A perfect charred handprint appeared. She repeated the action, blasting her power into the surface with all her might and a stream of flame burst through the wood, burning a hole in the spot she touched.
“Tal?” Faron repeated.
“The mage. Where is he?” Her voice sounded distant, almost ethereal.
He took in the sight of her. “He’s in a back corner. Trapped behind a layer of apparitions.” He gestured in the direction.
Tal nodded, though she didn’t know if he could tell. Slowly, she walked out of the room. It felt graceful, like gliding. The sightout in the hallway would have terrified her if she had a mind to be. As it were, she felt at peace, as if all would be well.
Apparitions filled the open space, pushing to reach the six fighters scattered throughout the room.
A guard roared as his sword sliced through two apparitions at once. Tal blinked and thought she saw a ghost, only to realize the stoic Jens had joined the fight. Waylon, too, dispatched one foe after another. His usual jolly nature was replaced by a ferocity akin to Tal’s own fury.
Her friends yelled to each other, calling out strategies and warnings. Something flew across the room and apparitions fell in its wake. Egan landed on top of one and tore its head clean off with claw-like hands. She blinked and noticed how free he seemed, releasing the beast within. It was beautiful to watch, but another problem demanded her attention. Tal turned away and walked in the direction Faron had indicated. Carrick caught sight of her and did a double take. “Blazing pigs, what in the hells is that?!”
“It’s Tal!” Faron appeared in the doorway behind her. “It’s Tal!” he repeated.
“Tal?!” Carrick replied incredulously.
She continued her approach. As Talwyn walked past apparitions, she brushed them with a hand, and they burst into flame. She found the mage holed up in the last room, surrounded by more apparitions. She easily walked through his defenses, burning them to nothing with the slightest touch. A cape of flame and smoke followed in her wake until it disappeared upon the apparition’s death. As she drew closer, she could see the mage frantically spelling more apparitions into existence, but he wasn’t fast enough to block her approach. Soon, he gave up on the apparitions and began throwing curses at her directly. She felt the slashing spell hit her in the chest, but her flame burned it away. His arms waved this way and thatwith the spellcasting, but Tal continued her approach without disruption. When she reached the mage, he screamed in sheer terror.
What a shame. She much more preferred to kill him when he was the unfeeling man who tortured her. She lifted a hand and caressed the back of her fingers down his petrified face. He choked out a scream and his eyes glowed yellow, then flames burst from them.
Flames escaped his body from his eyes, his mouth, his ears, and soon they shot from his fingers. They ate away at his skin. Tal watched as her fury slowly consumed him. The screaming stopped and his burning form collapsed on the ground. The building grew quiet. She turned in time to see her friends running into the room, all apparitions gone now that the mage was dead, no bodies nor cloaks left behind. Her friends were in quite a state, all showing signs of an intense battle, but all thankfully still accounted for.
Their eyes went wide when they caught sight of her, jaws dropped in wonder and amazement. When Faron pushed his way to the front, concern lined his face. His eyes searched her. Whether he searched for any sign of injury or evidence that the living flame in front of him was still the stubborn woman from the docks, she didn’t know.
He had come for her. She had pushed him away, played with his emotions, and threatened him. But still he fought for her. There he stood, face full of concern for her. She walked toward him. With each step, she thought of his smile, his kindness, the feel of his hands in her hair, his kiss on her lips. And with each memory, she felt her fury retreat into her. First her hands and feet returned to skin and bone. Then, slowly, the flames returned to her chest, concentrating their form over her heart until a single blinding, beating ember remained.
