Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(57)

She tried to rise from the ground, but he held her down by the shoulder. She could see her shadow spasming on the ground beside her. The longer she choked, the grayer it became.

“All this time, I thought I wanted to hurt you. But I still want to save you. Just lie down,” he said softly. “It’ll be just like falling asleep, Mija.”

Finn could feel her body giving in. Her sight began to dwindle and blur. Ignacio’s mouth was moving, but she couldn’t hear him over the roar of her panicked heart.

Since the day she’d run away, part of her knew that this was how she would die. With him standing over her, smiling that maniacal, fatherly smile. Soft and jagged all at once. She’d known it. But her mind couldn’t stop protesting. Even at death’s door, she held her ground.

I don’t want to die. Not today. Not with him.

“Fuerza!” a voice called from behind her.

With bloodshot eyes, Finn watched Ignacio fly back into a vendor’s wooden shop. The force of the fall collapsed the ramshackle shop on top of him. Finn’s breath returned, and she gasped, her eyes tearing. Standing over her was a very haggard-looking prince.

“You were supposed to help me,” Alfie said, quickly kneeling beside her, his pulse roaring in his ears, “not leave me to bleed to death.”

He did not know if he’d killed the man or just incapacitated him, but he had a feeling that, had he waited a moment longer, Finn would be dead.

Between gasps, she said, “Just now—I was supposed—to be dead—give me—a break.”

“We need to get out of here,” he said, eyes wide with panic. The Brim was alive again. The gowns and capes in the market stalls swayed in the breeze. Merchants and shoppers loitered about as if a man had not put a stop to their every move with a flick of his hand.

Finn crawled to her feet, slapping his hand away when he reached to help. She staggered five paces before her leg gave. She flopped back onto her stomach with a pained cry. Alfie stared at the blood pooling around her heel.

“Be still!”

“I have to run,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Now.”

He pointed at her graying shadow. “You will die if you don’t stop bleeding.”

“I’m already dead,” she said, her voice threadbare. But she stopped trying to crawl. She fell still and pliant. He didn’t know her well, but it didn’t make sense for her to look this way. It was like taking a sip of cocoa only to find spoiled milk rolling down your throat.

The Brim fell silent once again, everyone freezing mid-movement.

Finn’s eyes flew wide with fear as she tried to crawl away again. The wooden rubble of the fallen shop exploded outward with a shattering crack. Alfie shielded his eyes from the debris.

“And who is this, Finny?” the man asked, his tone conversational as he emerged from the rubble, spotless. He smiled at Finn, a grin that looked more like a beast showing its teeth. “A resilient one, isn’t he? I thought that blow to the head would keep you quiet until I was ready to come for you. No matter, the more the merrier. I’m Ignacio, Finn’s fa—”

“Finn’s nothing,” Finn spat. Panic burning in her eyes, she looked at Alfie and whispered, “Run.”

Alfie wanted to. His body begged him to turn away from the smothering black magic that was pouring out of this man. But it would not have been released if not for him. If he had to die trying to stop it, then so be it.

“Leave her be.” Alfie knew his words would mean nothing to this man, but it was what he wanted to say. These might be his last moments alive, so he was going to say what he wished.

“You know how I feel about you making friends without my approval,” Ignacio said, his eyes never leaving Finn’s face. As if Alfie wasn’t worth a glance.

“Run, stupid,” she said again. “Just run.”

“Put pressure on the wound,” Alfie said to her, his eyes locked on the man in the gray cloak. “You still owe me a favor for the vanishing cloak. Live long enough to fulfill it.”

The dragon warmed against his chest. Was it responding to being this close to more black magic, more of itself? Alfie pushed away the thought and focused. He needed to stop this man.

A stall to his left sold blown glass vases, trinkets, and figurines.

“Romper,” he said. The glass items shattered. “Volar.” With a wave of his hand the shards shot toward the man. Alfie wanted to look away. He didn’t want to see the glass bury itself in the man’s skin. But nothing of the sort happened.

“No,” the man said. It was as simple as that. The shards slowed, stopping a hair away from him, suspended in midair. Alfie’s jaw fell slack. This man had stopped the glass without uttering a single word of magic. He had just said no. It should not have worked in the same way that breathing in water instead of air should not work. None of this could be possible.

The man smiled at him. “Have you ever felt as if your whole life has led up to a single moment, muchacho?” The glass quivered before shooting back at Alfie. Too shocked to defend himself, Alfie raised his arms uselessly over his face. A wall of rock shot up from the ground to guard him. He looked behind him to see Finn with her hand stretched forward. Their eyes met. He could not bring himself to speak, but he hoped his eyes spoke for him: Thank you.

“Finny, come now. Wait your turn, I’m talking to your friend.”