Layne

A scream woke me.

I jerked upright so fast the blanket slid into my lap.

For a second, I didn’t know where I was. My room was almost completely dark, the window beside the bed showing only a few scattered lights across Rovelle.

Then something crashed downstairs.

I froze.

A low snarl rolled up through the floorboards.

Kai.

Another crash followed, heavier than the first, and suddenly I was out of bed.

My feet hit the floor awkwardly. I nearly tripped getting to the door, caught myself against the wall, and pulled it open.

The hallway was dark.

“Lyra?”

Nothing answered.

I stepped out.

My body still felt heavy from yesterday. Every muscle wanted me back under the blanket, but another sound came from below: a strangled growl, followed by something scraping hard across the floor.

I hurried toward the stairs.

At the top, I stopped.

For half a second, my hand wrapped around the railing and I was back home.

One stair.

Just one.

Except there was no snowstorm this time. No mountain in my head. No Mom downstairs.

Kai snarled again.

I went down.

The common room came into view a little at a time.

An overturned chair lay beside a broken table, and something dark streaked the floorboards.

Then Lyra.

My foot missed the next stair.

I caught the railing before I fell.

She was lying near the hearth with one hand clamped against her throat. Blood had soaked through her fingers and spread down the front of her shirt. Her other arm shook beneath her as she tried to push herself up.

Kai was beside her.

Thin strands stretched over the wolf’s body like threads pulled impossibly tight, pinning her legs against the floor and forcing her muzzle down. They were barely visible until they crossed the firelight, where they caught it like strands of glass.

Kai pulled against them.

The threads tightened, forcing her back down. She strained against them again anyway, her legs trembling until she finally dropped with a whine, sides heaving.

“Lyra…”

Her eyes found me.

They widened.

She tried to say something.

Nothing came out.

Then I saw the person standing over her.

“Layne?”

He turned.

A chill went through me.

He was still wearing the clothes I’d seen him training in earlier. His blond hair had come loose around his face, and his spear was gripped so tightly in one hand that his knuckles had gone white.

There was blood along the blade.

He was supposed to be at the estate.

Why was he here?

“Layne, what…”

“Run.”

The word came out through clenched teeth.

I stared at him.

His eyes looked completely normal.

That somehow made it worse.

He was looking directly at me, and I could see the panic in them.

His arm jerked.

The spear moved toward me.

Layne’s other hand clamped around the shaft and dragged it sideways. His shoulders shook from the effort, one arm pushing forward while the other fought to pull the weapon away.

That was when I saw them.

Thin threads disappeared beneath each of his wrists. Another stretched from his shoulder into the darkness above him, with more running from his back and legs. Every time he resisted, they pulled tight.

“Layne…”

“I said…” His breath caught as the threads dragged his arm forward again. “Run.”

I took a step backward.

They pulled harder.

Layne lurched toward me.

I stumbled into the bottom stair.

“Wait. You’re being…”

His spear snapped forward.

I threw myself sideways.

The blade passed close enough that I felt the air move across my face before it struck the wooden post behind me.

Layne ripped it free.

“Get out!”

Lyra made a wet, broken sound from the floor.

She was still bleeding.

“I can’t leave her.”

When I turned back, Layne was already moving again.

“Aria, move!”

The force in his voice startled me into backing away.

He came toward me in uneven steps, his legs jerking each time the threads tightened. Both hands closed around the spear as its tip slowly rose toward me.

Layne tried to wrench it aside.

The threads pulled it back.

I retreated until my shoulder touched the wall.

“I don’t know how to stop this.”

His jaw tightened.

“Neither do I.”

The spear crept closer.

I reached for my mana anyway, though I had no idea what I could possibly do with it. I found nothing. My hands were shaking, my chest tightening while every thought crashed into the next.

Layne had told me being able to do something once wasn’t what mattered.

Tired. Distracted. Frightened.

That was when it mattered.

And I couldn’t even find my mana.

The spear jerked forward.

Layne stopped it inches later.

For one strange second, everything held there.

His eyes moved away from me.

Toward Lyra.

Then back to the spear.

Something changed in his face.

“Layne?”

His grip shifted.

Slowly, painfully, he forced the point away from me.

The threads tightened around his wrists.

He kept turning it.

Toward himself.

Layne pulled the spear across his body until the point rested beneath his ribs.

My breath stopped.

“Layne, don’t…”

The threads snapped taut.

His arms shot forward.

I flinched, throwing my hands over my face.

A thick, sickening sound broke through the room.

For a moment, I heard nothing except Kai straining against the threads and my own breath caught somewhere in my throat.

I lowered my hands.

Layne was still standing.

The blade had disappeared beneath his ribs.

He stared down at it.

Blood began spreading through his shirt.

His hands loosened around the shaft.

The threads vanished everywhere at once. The strands pinning Kai disappeared with them, and she tried to push herself up before her shaking legs gave out beneath her. She dropped back to the floor, panting from the fight against them.

Layne folded.

I lunged forward and caught him badly, his weight nearly taking both of us to the floor. I managed to lower him against me, one arm behind his shoulders while the spear jutted awkwardly between us.

For a second, I couldn’t move.

I’d been here before.

Mom’s face above me in the backyard. Her arm beneath my shoulders while she asked me to keep my eyes open. I’d wanted to answer her, to tell her I was still there.

Except Layne was in my arms now.

Had she felt this helpless?

My hand went toward the spear.

I stopped before touching it.

What if moving it makes things worse?

I moved my hands to either side of the wound instead.

Blood coated my fingers.

Layne’s breathing was shallow and uneven against me.

Healing.

I knew how to heal.

I’d done it.

Find the mana.

I closed my eyes.

Nothing.

I tried again.

A faint pressure appeared beneath my ribs so suddenly I almost lost it.

Move it.

I reached for my hand, but the feeling disappeared somewhere before my shoulder.

A scream tore out of me.

I reached again.

This time the pressure was simply there.

It slipped into my shoulder, down my arm, and into my palms before I had time to ruin it.

Green light spread weakly between my fingers.

I’ve got it.

I can fix it.

I pressed my hands closer around the wound.

Picture what should be there.

That was what Lyra had told me.

I focused on the wound beneath my hands, trying to picture it closed and whole again.

The green light trembled.

The edges drew together slightly around the blade.

My breath caught.

It was working.

For one tiny, impossible second, it was working.

Then blood welled between my fingers again.

“Please. Please…”

I poured more mana into my hands.

The light brightened.

Too much.

I knew it was too much.

I didn’t care.

The skin around the spear kept trying to close, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Whatever else had been damaged was somewhere my magic couldn’t follow.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Layne’s hand closed around my arm.

I looked down.

His grip was weak, but when I tried to bring my hand back toward the wound, his fingers tightened.

“Layne, let go.”

He shook his head.

“I can still…”

His eyes shifted toward Lyra.

She was still lying near the hearth.

Her hand had slipped lower from her throat.

Blood ran freely beneath it.

I looked back at Layne.

His breathing came in shallow, uneven pulls, his fingers still wrapped around my arm.

“But you…”

His grip tightened once.

Then his eyes moved toward Lyra again.

I stared at him.

He knew.

The realization hit hard enough that I stopped breathing.

I tried to move my hand back toward him.

He wouldn’t let me.

“Please.”

Layne gave the smallest shake of his head.

The green light around my fingers flickered.

Lyra made another choking sound.

My head snapped toward her.

When I looked back at Layne, his eyes were still on me.

His hand finally loosened from my arm.

I hated him for it.

For making me choose.

“I’m sorry.”

I lowered him as carefully as I could and scrambled toward Lyra.

Kai remained where the threads had dropped her, her breathing still heavy as she tried to lift her head.

I dropped beside Lyra.

“Don’t move. Please don’t move.”

Her eyes stayed on mine.

I pulled her hand gently away from her throat.

I wished I hadn’t.

The cut was deep, and blood spilled across my fingers before I could cover it again.

“Stay with me.”

Lyra’s hand fumbled against my side before catching a fistful of fabric. Her grip was barely there, but she held on.

She tried to say something.

Nothing came except another horrible rasp.

“Don’t. Don’t talk.”

My mana was still there.

Barely.

I pulled it into my hands.

The glow returned.

This was harder than the bruise.

The stupid bruise I couldn’t heal yesterday.

I pressed my shaking hands over the wound and tried to remember what Lyra had taught me.

Picture it whole.

The magic spread beneath my palms.

The bleeding slowed.

My eyes widened.

I held onto it.

The glow trembled.

For a moment, I thought I had it.

Then the mana slipped.

The wound was too much. I could slow one part only to lose another, and every time I tried to force more mana into it, my control got worse.

The light faded.

“Not again…”

I pulled more mana forward.

My head throbbed.

The green light returned.

Lyra tugged weakly at my clothes.

I kept trying, bringing the light back each time it failed.

The front door burst open.

Boots thundered across the floor.

“City Guard!”

I barely looked back.

Several armored men rushed into the tavern.

One stopped when he saw Layne.

“Gods, that’s Marlow!”

Another was already moving toward him.

“Secure the room!”

Two guards headed for Kai. She forced herself halfway upright with a growl, but her legs were still shaking.

“Keep clear of the wolf!”

A hand caught my shoulder.

“Move away!”

I twisted away from him.

“She’s bleeding!”

“Step back!”

“I’m healing her!”

Another guard grabbed my arm.

“Get off me!”

“Restrain her!”

“Wait! Please, I have to…”

They pulled me backward.

My hands tore away from Lyra’s throat.

Blood welled beneath hers again.

“Lyra!”

I threw myself toward her, but the guards caught me before I made it a step.

“Hold her!”

“Let me go!”

I kicked, twisted, clawed at whatever I could reach.

“She’s going to die! Let me go!”

Something cold snapped around my wrist.

Click.

My mana vanished.

My body went rigid.

Black metal crushed around my wrists.

My hands hit the ground.

Crimson light pulsed beneath them.

The tavern disappeared for half a heartbeat.

I jerked against the guard holding me.

“Take it off!”

“Stop fighting!”

Another cuff closed around my other wrist.

I reached inward desperately.

Nothing answered.

“Please, please, I need to help her!”

The words came too fast now. My breaths did too.

A second group rushed through the entrance with medical bags, and someone shouted for room around Lyra.

“Healers coming through!”

I stopped fighting just long enough to see them drop beside her.

One pressed both hands against her throat while pale gold light spread beneath his palms.

“Severe blood loss.”

“Keep pressure.”

The golden light strengthened.

Then flickered.

The healer leaned closer.

“Wait. Something’s wrong.”

“What?”

“The healing isn’t taking. Something’s interfering with it.”

“Keep her stable. We need to move her.”

They shifted around Lyra and blocked her from view.

“Lyra!”

I tried to pull free again.

My heart was pounding too fast.

There wasn’t enough air.

The cuffs felt impossibly tight even though they weren’t.

“I didn’t hurt her. I was helping her. I was helping…”

Nobody answered.

They didn’t need to.

The guards hauled me through the doorway and into the street.

Cold air hit my face.

“Wait! Layne…”

I twisted around toward the open door.

A guard was kneeling beside him, fingers pressed against his neck.

He looked up.

“No pulse.”

My legs gave out.

The guards caught me before I hit the ground.

I stared back at Layne.

His spear was still lodged beneath his ribs.

The thin strip of skin I’d managed to close around one side of it was still there.

I had left him alive.

“Layne…”

Everything around me suddenly felt too loud. Boots against stone. Voices from inside. People gathering along the street.

My chest seized.

I tried to breathe, but the next breath stopped halfway in.

Then the street dimmed.

I blinked hard.

It came back.

People were staring at me.

Someone was saying something beside my ear, but the words ran together.

“I didn’t do it.”

My voice hardly came out.

My knees buckled again.

The street disappeared.

When I could see again, I was still moving.

I didn’t remember taking the last few steps.

A guard had one arm beneath mine, practically holding me upright.

Then a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“Aria?”

I lifted my head.

Otto was running toward us from farther down the street, coat hanging open as he shoved past the people gathered around the tavern.

He slowed when he saw me.

His eyes dropped to the blood covering my hands and clothes, then to the cuffs around my wrists.

His face changed.

“Where’s Lyra?”

I tried to answer.

“Inside. She…”

The street blurred.

Otto was suddenly closer.

Then he wasn’t.

For a second there was nothing but voices somewhere far away.

When everything came back, Otto had already pushed past the guards and was running toward the Silver Hearth.

“Lyra!”

My knees folded again.

Someone caught me.

The cobblestones swam beneath my feet, disappeared, then returned just long enough for me to realize I was still being dragged forward.

I tried to lift my head.

I couldn’t.

Everything went away again.

This time, it didn’t come back.