Oath of the Alpha - Eva Dresden Page 0,21
of darkness in all that light. The glittering shards of starlight pricking the midnight shade seemed to soar across the liquid blackness of her gaze. More wild threads of magic connected her to the earth, tying her to the spot. It fed off the eerie cerulean glow, pulling at her as the energy grew, then collapsing upon itself only to redouble with the surge of Aida’s emotions. The anger, hurt, and betrayal tangled through her thoughts and sent vivid swells of light rushing through the air and slamming into tree trunks, exploding the spindly brethren of the mighty giants into kindling.
“This is your choice, girl,” Marilsa shouted over the howling wind of whispering voices. Stabbing her staff into the softening earth, she clung to it and the tree, struggling to remain upright.
It sprung from the ground with a vicious roar made of silence and death, grabbing hold of the brilliant light and snarling it in ragged fingers of darkness. Sucking it down between jagged teeth, it mauled the azure glow with blackened claws.
The thing from the dungeon. Aida tasted it on her tongue—the evilness, the hatred, the endless time of it. Its infernal claws raked over her skin, gnawing at her flesh. Forcing her head down, she watched in horror as the vivid welts of old appeared on her arms. Dark as pitch against the light, it sundered the brilliant illumination. Crosshatches of blackness grew wider, longer, swallowing up her flesh bit by bit.
Aida screamed as she clawed at her arms to rid them of the darkness, only to find yet more slithering its way up her skin. Fear, her constant companion and coming to hand so easily, lunged through her at the sight. Limning her heart in ice, freezing her lungs to steal her breath, it would kill her this time. Otaso was gone, no longer controlling it… if he ever did. There would be no rescue from it this time, no healing salve to wipe away the agonizing pain.
Brittle as old paper, the yell echoed through the clearing. In a display of strength Aida would never have thought the old woman capable of, Marilsa rushed across the clearing with her staff held high. Aida didn’t try to block the blow as the rounded end of gnarled wood soared toward her head. It would end now, and that was all that mattered.
The shock rattled down her spine, splintering into a thousand ragged bolts of pain and shivering down her limbs as Aida fell to the ground with a quiet groan that made it no farther than her lips. A trembling of arms and legs crumpled upon the dewy grass, she stared up at the sky, the cold glare of stars a fitting sight to her end. Blackness edged her vision, threatening to take it away. Hoping it would be swift, a line appeared between her brows as it began to clear. Though pain lingered, it was not the throbbing ache or splitting head she expected. Hauling herself upright, Aida looked around with wide eyes, uncertain and more than a little terrified of what she would find.
Marilsa lay in a heap within arm’s reach, her staff shattered into pieces no bigger than Aida’s pinky. Black blood trickled from the corner of her slack lips, the odd angle of her neck dredging memories of the soldier Otaso murdered to Aida’s mind. Aida’s whine was thin and shrill as she crawled over to Marilsa, grabbing hold of a gnarled hand. Bitter tears slipped down her cheeks as she willed the blue light back into existence. Groaning, she strained to push some measure of whatever power she contained into the crone who looked not half so menacing now.
“Don’t die,” Aida pleaded in a broken whisper, clutching Marilsa’s hand all the tighter.
“It is my time.”
Aida swallowed her shriek, pulling Marilsa’s hand up to clutch it against her chest. Shuffling closer, she smoothed back the tattered fringe of Marilsa’s hair. “But you can’t. Please. I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”
“Not your choice,” Marilsa whispered, her lips tipping up into a ghost of a smile. “I am old, girl. Older than I should be. No one should live with seeing all that I have. I have made right my wrongs as best I could.”
“No, please!” Aida whimpered, bending low over Marilsa. Her trembling hand smoothed over ratted strands, stroking Marilsa’s crown to offer some comfort to them both.
“Make it right. Save yourself.” Marilsa coughed, blackened crimson spattering over the pallid gray of