felt tight, a darkness creeping into my soul. The trees were within sight, our escape right there, but a small voice inside was telling me to turn back. The wind pushed against my face, whipping my hair in tangles around my face. The effect of whatever force was driving me rippled out through the rest of my body.
"Cressida," he growled, nearly yanking me off my feet with his next tug. "We have to go. Now."
"No." I turned and stared at him. Something was really wrong. My limbs felt like they weighed hundreds of pounds as I took a single step towards him—away from the castle. "Something's happened."
Sorrell stared down at me as though I were crazy. Maybe I was. Maybe this was a trick—magic put on me by Tyr—but I couldn't deny that every single drop of blood in my body was vibrating with anxiety. My hands tingled with awareness, sparks dancing at the edges of my fingers, my magic making itself known.
"What are you—"
"I think we have to go back," I said, cutting him off.
"Are you insane?" He gaped at me.
"I'm sorry, Sorrell..." No matter what he thought, I was. I truly was. He had come all this way to rescue me, but I couldn't leave. Not just yet. I had to follow whatever this feeling was. I didn't want to think of what would happen if I didn't.
His brows crashed down over his eyes and he reached for me intending, I suspected, to simply lift me up and toss me over his shoulders to force me along, but I couldn't let that happen. I didn't let him get the chance. Without a second thought, I turned and dove back into the crowd—fighting against the stream as I moved through people running in the opposite direction. Whatever spell he had put on me appeared to still be working because as I made my way back across the courtyard, towards the burning tower, and into the first entrance I could see, no one stopped me or even seemed to notice my presence.
I hadn't made it up a handful of stairs before a large body crashed into me, slamming me into the stone wall. With a gasp, I fought back, bringing my elbow back and smashing it into the sternum of the man behind me.
"Gods damn it," Sorrell's deep curse stopped me. "I will knock you the fuck out and toss you over my shoulder, Changeling."
"No, you can't," I insisted. "There's something really wrong. Please." I turned and looked up at him, beseeching him with my eyes. "Please."
He regarded me with a scowl for several seemingly eternal seconds before he pushed me forward with a curse. "Be swift," he ordered.
Thank the Gods, I thought as I pivoted back the way I'd been going and raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. There was a string in my chest—a beacon that I followed, letting it lead me to whatever was waiting for me. The stairs grew more and more difficult to climb as the destruction of the tower was revealed. Several parts were completely covered by pieces of wall and roof and I had to crawl my way over them as Sorrell stomped behind me.
I didn't notice it until I nearly stumbled over the body in my path. My ankles slammed into something and I went down, falling hard and slamming my knees into the stairs. "What—" My words fell to silence as I realized who I was looking at. "Orion!"
He was half covered in rubble, several large chunks of the wall and wooden beams over his legs. I turned back, ready to beg Sorrell for assistance, but he was already there, his face sallow with horror as he lifted and tossed the beams to the side. I blinked when he took a large chunk of stone and threw it and, as it crashed into the wall opposite of us, it broke into several pieces, leaving a rain of dust and gravel falling from the crater-like hole he left behind.
"Orion?" He hefted Orion's completely limp body into his arms. I reached forward, running my fingers over his dirt streaked face, but as I wiped the worst of it away, I finally saw the truth. "Gods..." Sorrell's voice was horrified.
Dark, black lines were drawn across his body. Up his neck and over his arms—they covered every inch of his skin. My eyes rose to Sorrell's. "What does this mean?" I asked, shakily.
Sorrell's expression was pale and concerned. "Nothing good," he