Page 32 of The Fractured Prophecy

“She said we can’t kill him yet. It’s what Rune said her mother told her before she died,” I said.

I glanced back at Balram who was now crawling slowly across the room. When he raised his hand, I realized the staff was his aim. I called on my air wielding, but the staff was already sailing into his outstretched palm.

“We have to go,” I said. Rivven’s mother did not look long for this world, and if she were caught in the crossfire…

Violet light built in the crystal at the top of the staff along with a pale blue in the stone below it. I shoved Rivven toward the exit, throwing myself between him and the stream of light just as it released.

Balram fought to his feet and approached me even as I heard Rivven call my name somewhere that felt very far off. My entire body lit with magic, but it was out of my control. No matter how hard I fought, it seemed to take on a mind of its own and rush forward to the surface of my skin, which buzzed with the sensation.

I couldn’t move as something tugged, then yanked on my power like it was the end of a thread that could unravel an entire cloak. Then I was unravelling. It spooled out of me in a rush, sucked out by something beyond my control. I watched in horror as the light connecting me to the stone in his staff grew brighter and deeper in color until the whole crystal glowed a deep, luscious purple. The energy spooled from my body faster and faster, making me dizzy. And I collapsed to my knees.

It couldn’t have been longer than a minute before Rivven set his mother down and lunged for Balram, striking out with a stream of fire so hot it singed the small hairs on my forearm. But it felt like a lifetime as Balram greedily drained as much as he could from me. The stream of light kept tugging at my chest as though threatening to rip my heart from my body.

It might have, had Rivven not forced him to cut the connection between us.

I slumped, catching myself with my palms on the floor, arms shaking with the effort to stay somewhat upright. He’d drained so much in so little time. I felt empty, violated, and tears sprang to my eyes.

Squinting, I lifted my head enough to take in what was happening. The strings of ether around Balram were alive, writhing around him so brightly I could barely look straight at them. That’s mine, you bastard, I thought, anger building. And he was aiming my power at Rivven.

“No,” I cried, too weakly. Then Rivven’s mother was at my side, hand on my arm, feeding me strength she didn’t have to give.

“You see it too,” she said softly. “The ether.”

I nodded, throat thick.

“You are the goddess’s gift. Your presence was foretold.” Her eyes widened as she grasped my face and forced me to look at her.

“I’m sorry, what?” I breathed, taken aback.

Releasing my face, she gripped my arms and leaned toward me. Her cinnamon eyes glazed over, the pupils growing until they nearly blotted out the beautiful color. And when she spoke again, her voice rang deep, almost otherworldly, sending shivers skating over my skin and leaving goose flesh in its wake.

“As the world begins to crumble, the daughter must rise against the three. Find the home of the gods—reunite the godstone. Only then can the damage be repaired.”

She squeezed harder, her grip bruising my arms and making me wince. Then her pupils retracted to a normal size. She shook out her long mane of wild hair and blinked before drawing in a breath. Then, in a normal voice, added, “You must take my son and go to the Synbari Isles. Promise me.”

“I—”

The sounds of battle exploded around us as the two men fought. But all I could see were the depths of his mother’s eyes, so like Rivven’s and his sister’s.

“I’ve seen it, Nyah. I’ve spoken to Revka herself, for she walks freely in my dreams. It is how she warned Leuruna’s mother of my prophecy not to kill Balram until the stones are united. You must do as I say. I beg you to trust me.”

“I do,” I said, surprising myself. She smiled, relieved, then released her hold on me, climbing to her feet.

“I will give you the time to escape. You must leave immediately. Do you understand me?”

“We can’t leave you behind,” I said, standing also.

“I cannot go on this journey with you. The thread of my story ends here. Look.” She lifted a finger, and I saw the crimson thread that wafted from her finger and ended a few feet out.

“I can change it,” I said, not really sure if I could manipulate that kind of power.

“You aren’t meant to, my dear.” She leaned forward and kissed the top of my head where Rune’s crown dug into my scalp. “Be ready.”

“But you don’t have the power—” I started, then saw her determined gaze settle on the large stone in the center of the room.

And I knew.

It was the powerstone. The one imbued with all three types of power, that Balram had won in the Imrati all those years ago, and that he was supposed to have passed on to Torvo.