Page 167 of Vasmora

“Stop!” I screamed.

The sand around Zevander stilled, holding him suspended at his shoulders, and the pull at my arms faded.

Stinging across the exposed parts of my body lessened, and I turned to see the wall slowing, shrinking, sand falling in piles as it lost its momentum. The fallen sand created enormous hills at either side of us and we found ourselves caught in a wide interdune between them.

Lothare, his mercenaries, and the wolves remained submerged to their shoulders and necks, while only the pups and I remained on the surface.

When the fog of dust finally lifted, two figures emerged. The same figures I’d seen in Andalone’s vision back at the camp. A young boy with long, white hair and alabaster skin, alongside a tall, gaunt man in a robe, with a cloth covering his eyes.

Instincts dragged my gaze toward his finger, to the ring I recognized.

The mage whose eyes I’d burned with sablefyre.

“Akmyrios,” Zevander gritted out beside me.

Gasping, I kicked myself back.

“Faolan!” Lothare shouted. “Faolan, look at me! Help us!”

The boy didn’t spare him a glance, his gaze only on Zevander, while Akmyrios drifted toward Lothare.

“Get away from me, or by the gods, I will break every bone in your weak and malnourished body.” Lothare swung out at him, his fists falling just short of the mage’s legs. Lothare’s arm snapped straight with a sickening crack, as though his bone had splintered, and he released a growl of pain, muscles trembling. “Faolan! You are … one of us!”

Still, the boy didn’t divert his gaze.

The pups lowered themselves into a defensive crouch, growling and barking as they followed after the mage. When he spun around for them, the pups ground to a halt and scrambled in the other direction.

Akmyrios lowered himself to a crouch beside Lothare and drew a blade from his robe. When he sliced it across Lothare’s forearm, springing forth bright red blood that spilled onto the sand, I flexed my hand, refusing to move from Zevander’s side.

I gauged the distance between me and the mage. Would my whip reach? Was I fast enough against a mage? A master of glyphs against a novice. It seemed unlikely, but what choice did I have?

Lothare released a frustrated sound, helpless as the mage held a vial to his arm and collected his blood.

“Maevyth!” Zevander wriggled, trapped in the sand. “Run!”

Rapid breaths panted out of me, my heart hammering in my chest, but I swallowed back the fear. “No,” I gritted out. “I’m not running this time.” It would be futile, anyway. There was nowhere to run in the endless miles of sand.

Keeping my eyes on the two, I jumped to my feet and summoned my whip.

“Maevyth! Listen to me!” Zevander’s voice carried a sharp plea.

Before he could finish, I’d lashed the whip toward the two of them. Like a snake, it snapped against an invisible surface that flashed a bright white. A searing pain struck my palm, and I recoiled the whip, drawing it back. As it retracted into my skin, I stared down at a raw and glistening patch of skin across my palm.

“Run!” Zevander growled, wriggling beside me.

I twisted on my heel and darted in the other direction, only managing a few steps before a blistering shock of pain struck me like white-hot needles piercing my flesh.

Every muscle in my body locked in place, a deep, throbbing cramp sending a tremble through me. Mouth gaping, I stared up at the rolling clouds overhead, the pain clamping around my lungs and choking the scream in my throat.

“Maevyth!” Zevander roared, but I couldn’t turn, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, every muscle rock hard and contracting. Like Uncle Felix’s corpses that would often arrive in a state of rigor mortis.

“Come, Child,” a voice whispered too close to my ear. “It’s time to fulfill your destiny.”

“Akmyrios! Don’t do this,” Zevander gritted out, teeth clenched in what I could only imagine was a scorching rage simmering inside of him. “She’s innocent!”

“The boundary must be closed. Our bloodlines must remain pure, or we will die out, just like the Corvikae. We cannot become tainted by the mortals. The mixing of blood.” His lips curled in disgust.

The invisible boundary shimmered around me, enclosing me inside with him.