Page 157 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

“Don’t believe in magic then?” Kora sniped.

His mouth twisted. “I did what I had to. We live in a world where magic was forbidden. Keeping it from you was paramount to our survival.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve kept enough secrets from me.”

“I never lied. Only omitted the truth.”

She barked a sharp laugh. “This is a pretty fat truth. What else have youomitted?”

His jaw snapped, refusing to divulge any further secrets.

“Magic is still forbidden, we’re both breaking the law. The empire will kill us.”

“Not anymore,” Barron interjected, and Blake startled, as if remembering Barron was still there. He reluctantly stepped away. “These aremylands now.”

“And let me guess, you’re pro-mage?”

Barron’s smile quirked. “You could say that.”

His hand twirled in the air, and with sickening amazement, darkness bled from his skin. It writhed like a living shadow, tendrils leaking into the air. His power permeated her skin, its strength chilling her bones and setting her scar alight. Except this time, the pain snaked down her jaw and into her neck, and she winced.

This power was new. It hadn’t been recorded in any of the mage factions. No god had displayed this kind of . . . shadow wielding.

It felt familiar. She’d experienced this kind of darkness before, and Kora hissed as a memory surfaced and faded,warring against the frayed tendrils plaguing her mind. A memory of unbearable pain, blood, and a sad male telling her she was home.

“Is that what this is about? A world for mages? Just change the law, you have the power to do that.”

Barron shook his head. “No. It’s muchmorethan that. Changing the law is not enough. We need to wipe the slate clean and start again.”

Blood drained from Kora’s face, as his intentions settled across the grassy plain. “This war is wrong, Barron. You’re killing innocents! You can’t kill everyone who isn’t a mage!”

His face darkened at the mention of his name and he strode forward. She cringed away, his presence setting every nerve ablaze with horror.

“Weare the blessed.Weare the chosen ones. Mages are far superior to human scum. The witches are a mere copy of us. They’re humans who were desperate for magic, creating a pitiful, shameful replica.”

This male was insane.

“Their witch-seers are the only . . .thingsworth keeping around. They can predict the fates, the will that will be. And I have seen glory. And pirates? They’re the worst of them all. They can all rot in the Tryk.” Spittle flew from Barron’s mouth.

“The witches’ prophecy,” she wheezed against the branches tightening over her lungs. Blake hovered behind Barron, observing them both intently. “You think it’s about restoring the mages?”

Barron’s smile returned. “You’ve been busy, pet. I see your amnesia hasn’t stopped you.” Kora flinched. “Lost to the void, power ignites. Torn across the land, harbour the vessel. And sacrifice to the rift,” he recited.

That made no sense whatsoever.

“Prophecies aren’t truth. That could mean anything.”

“No, but they guide the hands of fate. A fate I aim to secure for myself. My power will ignite the tear in our lands, and I will sacrifice the scum to attain glory.”

Kora wriggled against Blake’s magic. The ends of his fingers were dusted brown, as if he’d plunged his hands into soil.

“And I want you by my side,” Barron continued.

He . . . what?

Blake’s magic faltered, vines loosening as he pivoted to Barron, shocked. Their words an echo of each other.

“What?” Blake snapped.