was a vast empty space. A metal railing was all that separated the narrow road from a hundred-foot drop into the valley.
The SUV would probably be able to break through the gate, but if he could block the road, the traders would have to stop or go over the edge. He could hear the engine’s rumble from above, barreling down the mountainside. He had just seconds before the SUV would hit the gate.
He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. His fingers closed around something cool and smooth. A silver ingot. It made him feel sick to use soul-silver for magic. Like he was no different than the traders. But he couldn’t think about that now. He closed his hand around the ingot and felt the magic inside surge through his veins, reminding him of Byrn, of air that scorched your lungs and orange skies split with lightning.
Fire.
Flames burst from his hands, twin columns of flickering orange, and he spread his arms, sending them arcing out to block the road on either side of him.
The SUV burst through the locked gate. The clang was earsplitting, and bits of metal flew everywhere. Nahteran’s vision was fractured, his body aching. Everything was air and metal and scorching heat. He saw the wheels of the SUV veer toward him, and for a second he was sure he was about to die. The traders were going to run him down, fire or no fire.
Then he saw the man’s face in the driver’s seat, the fear there. The fear of him.
The wheels veered away again, squealing. Too fast to stop. The breath vanished from Nahteran’s lungs, evaporating all at once, so that the words rising to his lips came out silent, meaningless.
No—
I didn’t mean—
But it was too late. The SUV and the traders and the soul-silver they carried went over the edge—the railing snapping like it was made of paper—and landed in a crash of flame far below.
Taya found him there, standing at the side of the road, staring at the charred wreckage below. She was back in her human form, sporting a few cuts and bruises, but not too much the worse for wear. She grabbed him, spinning him to check for injuries.
“What happened?” she demanded, concern underlying the anger in her voice. “Not that I couldn’t handle that guy, but you kind of left me in the lurch up there.”
Nahteran felt like his lungs were full of stones. He couldn’t remember how to form words. He pointed down at what remained of the SUV.
Taya followed his gaze through the gathering dark, and he saw her expression grow somber. “Are they …”
“Yes.”
A moment of silence passed between them. “They were killers,” Taya said after a long time. Then, seeming to realize that wasn’t helpful, she added, “It wasn’t your fault. They could have stopped.”
Nahteran swallowed. “I used fire magic. They were scared. And—” His own voice sounded distant to him. “He had a piece of silver on him. A piece with the last part of my soul bound inside.” He drew a ragged breath, ashamed to feel tears threatening the backs of his eyes, roughening his voice. “I’ll never be—” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
He didn’t look at Taya, not wanting to move his eyes from the horizon in case the tears spilled over. But he felt her move closer to him, grab his hand. Her grip was warm and almost too tight, like Gretel leading Hansel out of the forest.
“What do you mean?” she asked, a hint of a warning in her voice.
Nahteran swallowed. It was hard to get the words out, but he made himself say them. “I’ll never get all of my soul back.”
Taya was silent and still for a moment. Then she pulled him away from the ledge, toward the Jeep.
“There’s no never for us,” she said, her tone firm, brooking no room for argument.
She opened the passenger side door and gave him a gentle shove. Numbly, he climbed in as she went around. She sat next to him, but she didn’t turn the car on or speak for another long moment. The car’s interior lights faded, leaving them in dimness.
“We have scars, sure,” she said at length. “We have missing pieces, but who doesn’t? I think souls can heal just like skin and bone.” She turned on the car, a gentle rumble starting up around them. She backed up, flicked the headlights on, and then turned up the driveway toward the mansion again.
“What are you doing?” Nahteran asked, surprise jolting him out of numbness for a second.
She gave him a look. “Janna Reynolds is still in the house, tied up, no thanks to you. And the rest of the soul-silver. We still have work to do, even if you’re sad.”
Nahteran exhaled, imagining the darkness going out of him with the air. The hollow, painful wound inside him was still there. He thought he’d have erased it today. Now he knew it would always be with him.
But it had receded when Taya had grabbed him to make sure he wasn’t hurt. Still more when she took his hand, talked him down. Maybe the hurt wasn’t because a part of him was missing. Maybe he just needed more time. He drew a breath of fresh air.
“Okay,” he said, and this time the words didn’t feel like broken glass coming out. “Work. Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Taya agreed, picking up speed as they ascended toward the dark mansion. “There are still a lot of souls up there who need to get freed. You grab them, and I’ll talk Reynolds into coming with us.”
She turned to him, grinned. “And then let’s get home.”
BLOOMSBURY YA
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First published in the United States of America in March 2021 by Bloomsbury YA
Text copyright © 2021 by Glasstown Entertainment
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ISBN 978-1-5476-0382-4 (hardcover) • ISBN 978-1-5476-0383-1 (e-book)
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