Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(95)

In vain, I wished for Aaru’s power. I’d turn the room black and run out. But I couldn’t. I was just me. Giftless Mira.

“You’re responsible for those deaths.” Dangerous words. Deadly words. “You brought Rosa and the trainees in here. You told them to fetch another noorestone. You are the reason they’re dead.”

Altan hurled the baton.

I managed to dodge, mostly; the blow aimed for my head clipped my hurt shoulder instead. Shocks of pain traveled through my arm and collarbone, but I gritted my teeth and dived for the weapon, pushing off with my sore foot.

My nemesis swore and ran for it, too, but I was closer. I threw myself onto the floor and grabbed the top of the baton, half feeling the memory of heat from its many impacts with me. I clutched the weapon, suddenly not sure what I thought I could do with it. Did I really think I could hurt him? Even if I was physically capable—

Altan was right behind me.

I took the handle, rolled onto my rear, and thrust the baton forward as though it were a long knife. It jabbed Altan in the chest, right on his breastbone, and slid up to his throat and caught him on the underside of his jaw.

He gagged and recoiled, one hand flying to his throat, the other grasping for the baton.

I gripped the baton with all my might, but I wasn’t strong enough to keep it from him, so when he pulled with enough strength to rip it from my hands, I let go.

Altan tumbled backward, but kept his grip on the baton, even as he scrambled to his feet.

All the self-defense lessons I’d ever taken fluttered through my mind, but only one stood out for this moment: run, and let Hristo protect me.

But Hristo was locked in his cell. He wasn’t going to rescue me.

I’d never been taught what to do if Hristo couldn’t come for me, or how I should go about rescuing my protector.

“What are you doing, Failure?” Altan seemed amused, almost. “Are you trying to get hurt?”

On my feet again, I dashed for the broken chair and took up the leg, though it was no real defense against the metal of Altan’s baton.

This was the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Still, I was committed. I’d inflicted enough damage to my relationship with Altan that it would never recover. My friends and I would never be safe after this.

Altan tapped the baton on his thigh. “Don’t be foolish. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“All you do is hurt people. Remember Rosa? Those trainees?” It was mean to throw that in his face again, but I needed to keep him off-balance—if not physically, then emotionally. “Wasn’t it just over there that they died?” I waved my broken chair leg toward the back of the room, where three people had lain dead on the floor.

When he followed my gesture, a fractured look crossing his face, I checked my position to the door. Finally, I was closer—but not for long. He came at me with his baton drawn back, ready to slam into my already sore left side.

I darted away and threw the chair leg with all my might; it thunked against Altan’s chest, useless. Still, I had to try. I had to commit if I wanted to survive.

That meant I needed a weapon.

Any weapon.

I retreated to the nearest wall and snatched a noorestone from the sconce.

“What are you going to do with that?” A sinister grin touched Altan’s mouth. “Burn me, like I burned your friend? I wonder what they’re all doing now. Probably trying to calm the dragon while she spits fire into their cells.”

Bile raced up my throat, because I could too easily imagine that.

But Altan was a warrior, trained to defend against the attacks his opponents threw at him. That meant every time I reminded him about Rosa, he’d hold my friends over my head.

“I’m going to stab you with it,” I said. “Right through the eye.”

“You’d never dare.”

The glowing crystal was cool in my hand, cut into a long, dagger-like shape with six major facets, and six minor at each end where they tapered into sharp points. A thrum of power surged through the stone, echoing through my hand, and the glow dimmed.

Altan’s gaze cut to the noorestone. “What did you do?”

Nothing. I’d touched noorestones hundreds of times before—just like anyone else—and this had never happened. This one was probably just old, nearly extinguished, but I didn’t tell him that. Instead, I smiled, like I’d dimmed the crystal intentionally. “Get Kelsine away from my friends.”

Another pulse rushed through my hand. Three, four, five. It matched my heartbeat, speeding ever faster, and I wasn’t sure how to stop it. Not without dropping the crystal, and right now it was my only weapon. A mighty weapon, maybe. With every beat came this swell of energy, making me stronger in unnameable ways.

“What are you doing?” Altan hadn’t exactly lowered his baton, but he watched me with more caution now. Girls who dimmed noorestones might be dangerous.

“Subdue the dragon,” I said, advancing. It was an act—a show of courage where there was none. “Do it, and I’ll let you live.”

That was, perhaps, too much. Altan saw through my veil of bravery and rushed me with his baton.

I ducked to the side, and the metal struck the wall behind me with a loud clang. Then, without my instruction, my fist clutching the noorestone flew at him, and the knifelike crystal pierced his side.