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Memnon—Memnon, Memnon, Memnon.I don’t know why I chant his name. He cannot do anything more than I can.

Roxi, are you okay?Memnon asks, that edge still in his voice.What is going on?

Beneath my breastbone, pressure begins to build. It feels as though my mounting fear is pushing against my rib cage, determined to be set free.

Help, I plead brokenly, even though I know it’s impossible.I can’t get him off me…

Get him off…?Dimly, I sense Memnon’s alarm, followed by his anguish and a rising ruthlessness.

Listen to me, he says, his voice like iron.If you are being attacked, then by the gods, hurt that fucker.

Hurt him?The thought comes like an epiphany, even as pressure continues to build in my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs and pushing its way up into my throat and down to my abdomen.

Memnon continues.The eyes, the nose, the throat, the lower belly, and the groin are all weak points, he says.If you don’t have a blade, use your nails, your knuckles, or your knees. Strike fast and hard.

I go still as I listen, and Gaius mistakes it for compliance, releasing my wrists so that he can better lift his own garment.

Once you’ve landed a blow, Memnon says,don’t hesitate—run or attack again. Don’t give him time to recover from his surprise.

Land a blow, I repeat.

Okay, I—I think I can do that.

Only, the pressure inside me is becoming impossible to ignore. It’s rapidly expanded to every corner of my body—arms, legs, fingers, and toes—heating my blood and pushing at the underside of my skin.

I move my hands back to Gaius’s chest as he continues to fumble with our clothes, my thoughts churning.

Can’t breathe through the pressure—don’t know where to strike—need him to get off me?—

My fingers dig into Gaius’s chest and panic swallows up my reasoning.Need to get him off me.I latch on to that thought:Need to get him off me.

All of that dispersed pressure and heatmoves, gathering once more beneath my rib cage before flowing down my arms and into my palms.Get off me, get off me—GET OFF ME.

The pressure releases all at once.

Beneath my touch, Gaius is blown backward, his body enveloped in a cloud of pale orange smoke. He hits the ground hard, his head cracking against the marble floor.

For several seconds, all I can do is draw in ragged breaths. Gaius lies unconscious on the ground, that pale orange smoke filling the air between us.

Roxi, what just happened?Memnon asks.I felt something through our connection. Are you all right?

I turn my hands over, staring at my palms. I have to bite back a scream as more of that colored smoke seepsout ofmy flesh. It looks like burning incense. I curl my hands into fists, hoping to smother the smoke. Still, wisps of it slip out between the creases of my skin.

Gaius stirs on the ground, and I press my back into the wall, wishing it could swallow me up. Memnon told me I needed to react quickly at this point—either fight or flee—but I can’t seem to do much more than gape.

The young nobleman sits up and groans, touching his head. His fingers come away red. It seems to take him a moment to see me and remember the situation.

“Did you…push me?” Gaius says softly, glancing around the room and the distance between us. It’s his turn to be the disbelieving one.

I don’t have an answer for him. All I know is that my fear is twisting my stomach in knots.

Are you all right?Memnon repeats.

I don’t know, I say.

Are you hurt?he rephrases.

No.I’m shocked to say it because it feels like I should be, and maybe tomorrow there will be bruises, but…No, I repeat.