Starsinger

Void

Delia watched the gryffins rising from the deck of the Bloodhound and shouted for half the Apprentices to switch their targets to the dark winged creatures. They'd managed to hold the Drake against the flood of Ravens, but their primary mission was to stop the fatemongers from reaching Aster. One of the gryffins caught a fireball on its wing, barrel-rolling towards the sea and dumping its rider before it caught itself.

"Hell of a fall," Felicity muttered.

"Good," Delia called to the Apprentices. "A few more—"

Then the keening wail of the horn swallowed her voice.

The signal. It must have been. Delia tensed, whirled, scanning the edges of the second wall for Zareyman soldiers, armed with obsidian. No one came rushing to Vance's call. Maybe they're too far away. Maybe they're frightened.

"What's coming?" she demanded.

Felicity shook her head. "That's not for the squads."

A choked sob. Delia spun. The dark-haired Apprentice who'd taken down the gryffin was shaking, crying. He withdrew his hands from the folds of his robes and Delia's breath caught in her chest.

His fingertips, blue with frostbite, clutching an obsidian stone.

Along the wall, one of every ten Apprentices began chanting the Vlynnish words Delia knew all too well. Darkness rolled from their outstretched arms like a black fog. Cries went up from the other Apprentices, spells sparked and died.

The dark-haired Apprentice's eyes were wet, pleading. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "My family..."

He shook his head violently and began reciting the void spell.

"No!" Delia dove for the man, trying to knock the obsidian from his hands. Another Apprentice shoved Delia back. This one was beaming.

"We are not yours to command," the second Apprentice proclaimed. Pride and fear shone equally in her eyes. "We are the king's servants, and we will not allow our power to be used against his Majesty."

You fool, Delia wanted to scream, but already the world was darkening around them, the void growing denser and spilling over the second wall. The second Apprentice was adding her voice to the traitorous chorus feeding the black. She gasped at the thinning air.

Felicity took off in the other direction, trying to grapple the stones away from the Apprentices, and quickly faded from view. Delia pushed through the cloud of shadows, feeling for the rest of the mages. She could save them. She could save some of them. Hot tears cut across her cheeks, the only warmth Delia could feel as the void drained heat from the air. She'd escaped death at the hands of her village, crossed the realm, fought traffickers and pirates, freed her people from captivity, and still. All around her she heard the cries of mages buckling to their knees, grasping for power they could no longer feel, each scream a knife to her heart.

"Run," Delia yelled, her lungs burning. "Everybody run."

But they were too hurt and confused to know where to run. Delia hauled a young Apprentice to her feet, but the mage panicked and bolted, a stray fist catching Delia hard in the nose. A burst of hot blood streamed down her lips, tasting of salt and copper.

You couldn't save someone who didn't want to save themselves. You couldn't free someone who didn't believe they deserved to be free. You couldn't do it alone.

Suddenly Delia's eyes flew open. Vance had used the signal. That meant the rest of her team had failed. Aaron. Sapphire. Jace.

She turned and ran, heart pounding as she raced towards the cliff path that would lead her to the third wall. The Drake would have to fend for itself now, but Delia could still help her team. Together they could take back command of Aster, take control—

Something huge and heavy beat the air. Delia cursed and stumbled but forced herself forward, out of the black.

A gryffin sprawled across the second wall, blocking her path. Its eyes were black as night. The wrongness hit Delia like a wave of nausea and she doubled over, heaving.

A sturdy figure dismounted and stalked forwards. Delia forced herself upright until she could see his eyes, pale as ice, and the thin foreboding smile spreading across his lips. Ezra.

No. No, he was supposed to go for the third wall, for the king. She'd seen him circling above the tower, taunting them. It was a feint, she thought, a word she'd learned from Jace and his sword training. Jace. Godsdamn it, I have to move.

Ezra cocked his head. "You look familiar."

Delia grabbed her labradorite pendant with a hiss. Like a serpent. A firey blaze burst from her lips and engulfed the fatemonger. The gryffin screamed and stumbled back, wings flaring for balance.

Suddenly the fire withered, swallowed up by a black hole Ezra held between his palms. He was singed, his long black coat smoldering and the skin over his left brow was red and blistered.

Still he gazed at her with only mild interest. "Ah. The maidservant. And, it would seem, a reykelsa." Delia shivered at the sound of the name only Gavran had given her.

Ezra smiled thinly. "Stand still."

Then he raised his hands and a jet-black tidal wave smashed into her.

Delia was lost in a vortex of darkness. Shrieks of pain pierced her ears. The icy, empty nothing was pulling at her, pressing into her eye sockets and choking the air from her chest. This is how it ends? She imagined the void swelling over the wall, over Aster, into the bay. Imagined it pulling the life from every soldier, mage, and citizen, starving the life from the earth until nothing remained.

Then she felt a tickle. A curling tongue of void worming its way down her throat, reaching for the fire that burned in her chest.

He's trying to turn me, Delia realized with cold clarity. He's trying to turn us all into Ravens.

It was a battle he would surely win. While mages channeled the energy of the world around them, fatemongers pulled their power from a well deep within themselves. The Apprentices would tire long before Ezra, and any other fatemongers the gryffins must now be depositing on the top of the second wall.

But behind her there were mages screaming into the darkness. And somewhere was her team. Her team who needed her.

Delia dug deep, pulling at the last shreds of life floating in the darkness with her, and forced out a word.

A green light blazed around her. Delia gulped in air like a drowning woman. She could see Ezra again, his brow creased just slightly, perplexed by her resistance. She whipped her arm out and a burst of light shot forward, catching Ezra in the face.

Immediately the darkness closed in again, hungry, biting at the edges of her emerald sanctuary. Delia kept chanting, channeling the fraying threads of magic into the bubble of light that encircled her. The effort of casting the spell was draining her. She wouldn't last. Couldn't last. She lashed out at Ezra again, but he dodged the light easily, more annoyed than injured. It's only a matter of time.

Then she felt someone's hands on her, warm and searching, grasping. Rae. But no, that was impossible. Delia glanced back to see the dark-haired Apprentice struggling to his knees. His eyes were an apology. He clasped her hand.

Delia started to pull him to his feet but the blackness slammed hard against their bubble and she almost shattered. She cried out and her vision went spotty. Felicity caught her before she hit the ground. Another Apprentice helped her to her feet. They were coming to her, seeking out the light in the darkness.

It's only a matter of time. But that meant time mattered. 

Gratefully Delia held on, drawing power from the mages' beating hearts. She channeled the light until it was as sharp as her will, sharp as a sword.