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My surroundings are blurring past me faster than my eyes can follow, and my stomach churns. I pinch my eyes shut, just to make the world stop moving.

“Lower us to the ground!” I shout the command.

Selene?Memnon’s voice cuts in.Are you…in the sky?

He must’ve overheard some of my thoughts.

Not for much longer.

My magic seems to trip over my command, weakly pulling at the broom. In response, the broom pauses in midair, then it begins to simply fall, taking me along with it.

What does that mean?The alarm in his voice pairs well with the screaming in my head.

Blessedly and through no attempt on my part, the broom seems to remember it’s enchanted to fly. Abruptly, it stops falling and levels out.

I grit my teeth as the action yanks at my shoulder joints, but it’s my hands I’m worried about. My palms have slickened with sweat, and my grip is sliding off the wooden handle, and fuck, fuck, fuck?—

“Seal my hands to this broom!” I command in Sarmatian, channeling my power down my arms and into my palms.

Despite invoking the dead language and funneling my magic to my hands, nothing happens. My power doesn’t leave my flesh, and the incantation doesn’t take root.

The spell fails entirely.

I’m coming!Memnon says.Just hold on.

But holding on is the one thing I can no longer do.

My fingers slip off the sweat-slickened handle, and I fall.

CHAPTER 33

Selene.Selene.

Selene!

Damn all the gods… Roxilana, answer me, my love!

I sigh out a breath, a pinch of pain blooming at the action, and I blink.

Memnon?I say, my brows coming together.

Thank the fucking stars. Are you hurt? I’m coming for you. Just keep speaking to me.

I blink again, staring at the cloudy night sky above me, which still appears to spin. Am I hurt? There’s something warm and wet at my back, and it’s hard to breathe…

I move a little, andholy mother goddess. Agony radiates fromeverywhere.

Yes, I gasp down our bond, choking back a sob that might further jostle my body.I’m hurt. I think…I think I fell.

It comes back to me then, the terrifying broom ride, the loss of magic,the fall.

I must’ve blacked out on impact, but now, unfortunately, I’m awake—as is my pain. White-hot sparks of it radiate from my legs. One leg in particular feels exposed, as though if thewind picked up, even its light caress would send shooting pains through me.

I have old memories of open wounds. I know the sensation of my insides kissing the air.

Assess yourself,est amage. Tell me what is injured.

I lift my head and glance down the line of my body. It takes several extra seconds to stop my surroundings from spinning. In the dim light, I can make out a white bone sticking out from the mess of my left leg. I bite back a whimper.