Scorched by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #7)(48)

“Very well,” Garrett said, his tone chilly. But I could tell I’d thrown him off balance, and that he was no longer so sure about the move he’d just made. “Lead the way.”

Since the roads had been completely torn up by the quake, we were forced to traverse the town on foot. To prevent ourselves from being constantly accosted, we disguised ourselves as humans, but it was incredibly hard to ignore the pain and suffering going on and continue forward. There were so many times I wanted to stop and help, to dig out more survivors, to heal more broken limbs. But Fenris’s body was still buried beneath that school, and I would not leave him there to rot. He deserved better than that.

“Here we are,” I said bitterly as we stopped outside the cracked sidewalk in front of the school. Someone had put out the fire, but the damage had been done. I stalked across the once-grassy field, now charred to ash, heading toward the side of the school where I had created that tunnel. The entire building had been reduced to rubble.

“Miss Baine,” Garrett said, his voice subdued. He hurried to catch up with me, pulling at my sleeve. “Miss Baine, I see now. There is no way anyone in that basement could have survived. I believe you.”

“Don’t touch me, you self-serving prick.” I smacked his hand away, staring straight ahead so that he wouldn’t see my tears. “You wanted to see proof. I’ll get you proof. Fenris’s body is buried down here.”

“Sunaya,” Iannis warned as I sank to the ground in front of the pile of debris blocking the tunnel I’d dragged Rusalia through. The tunnel I’d made using Fenris’s knowledge.

“Fenris’s body is down here,” I repeated, refusing to look at him. “We can’t leave him there.” Calling up a spell from my dead friend’s memories, I turned toward the tunnel and attempted to excavate it again. My magic burrowed into the ground as the spell yanked on it and, for a moment, I thought it was going to work. But something inside me snapped, like a wire stretched too taut, and I gasped as piercing pain sliced through the center of my body. The spell shut off abruptly, and my inner muscles began to seize up as intense heat radiated throughout my skull. Suddenly, I couldn’t draw breath; it was as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air around me…

“Sunaya,” Iannis shouted, his voice rife with fear. Strong arms came around me as I toppled sideways, and that was the last sensation I felt before the blackness claimed me.





18





When my eyes opened again, I found myself lying on the sandy beach of the island I’d once been stranded on, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. The white sand was powdery beneath my skin, and the warm water lapped gently at me, like a pet dog trying to rouse its master from a slumber.

But I couldn’t get up. Exhaustion had settled into my limbs, so pervasive I could barely keep my eyes open. The only reason I was even awake was because I was struggling for breath—my lungs felt like they were collapsed, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t suck in enough air.

Writhing in the sand, I tried to roll over, hoping a change of position might help. But my arms and legs were leaden, and I only seemed to dig myself further into the surf, closer to the tide that no longer seemed quite so gentle. The waves were growing larger, more menacing, the sea turning its hungry gaze toward me. It had deemed me not worth saving, and instead intended to drag me beneath its depths so I could join the myriad souls it had carried to the afterlife.

“Relax,” a female voice, low and musical, said. A warm hand settled on my damp shoulder, and I turned my head to see an exotic, caramel-skinned woman with golden eyes and flowing mahogany hair crouching next to me. Her teeth gleamed white in her dark face as she smiled down at me, and I stared dumbly up at her, struck by her beauty. She was otherworldly, her presence gentle but powerful. Somehow, I knew I was in the presence of a powerful spirit. “You are not going to die.”

The knot of anxiety in my chest loosened a little, and I nodded. The woman pressed a dark green leaf to my lips, and I opened my mouth. As soon as it touched my tongue, a wave of cool, soothing energy rippled through me, soothing my raw nerves. Power hummed in my veins, and I sucked in my first real breath as my magic flared back to life.

“Much better,” the woman said, nodding in satisfaction. She pressed her slender hand against my brow…

And then I opened my eyes to see Annia leaning over me, her dark eyes warm as she pressed her own hand against my forehead.

“By Magorah.” I shot upright, nearly slamming my forehead into Annia’s nose. “Annia, you’re back! How long have you been here? How long have I been out? What’s going on?” Heart thundering, I looked wildly around me. I was in the Palace infirmary, and I wasn’t alone. Dozens of metal-framed beds were filled with other patients, mostly mages, but a few shifters and humans, too. I’d never seen the place so crowded.

“Slow down, champ.” Annia laid her hand against my shoulder and pressed me back into the pillows. “You’ve been out a few hours, about the same length of time I’ve been back. Was a real shock to return home to this shit show.” Her elegant features drew tight as she surveyed the room. “I was on a boat for the last couple of days, so I had no idea what I was coming home to.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Tears sprang to my eyes, and I sat up so I could hug Annia, hard. Seeing her back, alive and well, was the balm my soul needed after this horrific day. Pulling away, I studied her, wanting to make sure that she really was intact. Her normally fair skin was a little darker, tanned by the tropical Southian climate, and her dark eyes seemed older, almost ancient. There were secrets lurking in those eyes—stories I would pull out of her when things settled down.