If my eyes were opened or closed, I couldn't tell. The darkness devoured any light, it captured all sense of direction as we tumbled through it. It clawed at me, wanting to swallow me whole. I tightened my grip around the prince, but the throbbing pain of his borrowed magic left my fingers feeling three times their size, making me numb and clumsy. My syphon continued to draw power, and I was reminded just how unstable this gift was, how dangerous it could be. I couldn't control it, and if I thought summoning it on command was difficult-willing it to cease before it finished feasting was near impossible.
My heart raced as the prince's magic became my own, and I thought of Alden's drained and lifeless body. Alden was human, like me, but his gift prevented him from aging. That's why he died the way he did, I always told myself. My syphon leeched his magic away, and with nothing left to preserve his human flesh and bones, time finally had a chance to catch up with him.
I was not truly dangerous, I repeated the thought over and over again, not to a powerful fae. But I could feel Aramel sputtering beneath my grasp, and I began to doubt. I found myself loosening the interlocked fingers I held around his torso, as if a lesser hold might spare him Alden's fate.
Without that firm hold, the force of the darkness became harder to fight against, like swimming against a strong river current. My legs swept out from under me, and then the rest of my form started to follow, drifting apart from the prince's slowly.
Aramel surely hoped I'd let go, to be released from my syphon's wrath. He would be happy to be rid of me and our troublesome engagement, to live his endless days smug, knowing I perished due to my own recklessness.
Worst of all, I couldn't even blame him.
The abundance of magic I held became unbearable. My muscles fatigued, my ears rang, my skin burned from phantom flames, and with a defeated gasp--- the last of my grip gave out.
Something locked over my reaching hand before I could scream, and I was forced to endure more of my syphon's torture, pulled right back into a solid frame. "Are you insane?" Aramel's strained breath hit my ear, his arms locked around my back despite his spasming muscles, securing me against him.
It was a fair question, but my shock kept me silent, and as my syphon finally tapered out, I had no energy to speak anyway, to do anything but enjoy the relief that came with it. Aramel's body slacked at the same time, a brief moment of allayment, before going rigid yet again.
When the light found us, it came with a reckoning. Aramel's arms tightened, one moved over my head, and I heard the wind leave the prince's lungs as we made impact with solid ground and began rolling downhill.
Dust kicked up as we bounced and scraped over a rocky mass of jagged gravel until Aramel flexed his arms. His magic sparked, and our momentum came to a sudden halt. In a blink, we were standing upright atop an enormous pile of broken sandstone. The prince exhaled heavy breaths as his magic grounded us in place, and I could hear his racing heart against my ear as I beheld the expanse of dryland below us. Stone and cracked clay took the place of Ishren's usual fields of grass and wildflowers, with only a handful of thin trees to offer occasional shade. It was dead and dry and flat for as far as I could see.
I hadn't yet calmed my shaking limbs before Aramel abruptly released me. I plopped onto the uneven stones in a thud, and the prince vanished and reappeared several feet away, his movements far less graceful than usual.
"What did you do?" he growled dizzily, almost to himself, but the murderous glare he shot in my direction said otherwise. "How did you...why did I..."
As he muttered and cursed, I forced myself up onto unsteady legs. I winced. Saints, my head throbbed like it might explode.
No, not just my head. Everything hurt.
