Page 54 of Heir of Broken Souls (HOBF #3)
Chapter 54
Knox
T he sounds of shocked gasps and cries flinging out around me as we all lay eyes upon a golden Delilah only encourage my heart to try and leap from the confines of my chest. She’s golden—if I tapped on her arm, it would probably ping.
“My gods, Knox, what is her power doing to her?” Harlow practically whines, fear twinging her voice.
Elysia looks on in wonder. “She’s incredibly powerful.”
“Too powerful,” I find myself murmuring.
I only have a moment, a split second in time where those eyes full of the soul I love snap to mine with such a deep fear that my lungs cease to exist.
They widen, and then silence descends.
It is not the type of silence you wish for after a long day. It’s the type of silence that has the hairs standing up on the back of your neck, that has your mind screaming for you to run.
The silence stretches, growing taut.
And then the tension snaps.
Delilah’s hands are shoved in the water. Her movements are jerky, not of her own.
A golden shimmery haze fills her usually blue eyes. Her jaw drops open, and a scream—something ancient and guttural—bellows from the depths of her soul. Golden power explodes in all directions.
The force of it knocks me off my feet, rocking the boats and halting the griffins. I’m sure the pod can even see it below.
Panic grips my throat as history repeats itself, her golden magic alerting everyone to where she is. But this time, it’s smart. Perhaps it always has been.
Instead of blasting across the ocean and lands, it stops, forming a golden dome.
A dome we’re under .
Lenox bellows beside me, barking orders to move farther back, but all I can do is remain stunned in the boat as everyone tries and fails to leave the golden dome.
Power floods out of Delilah with abandon, never ceasing its flow or strength.
“She’ll burn out,” Elysia croaks.
“This is just scratching the surface,” I say in awe.
Wave after golden wave pours from her hands, her gilded body remaining stiff as it does so. Her magic commands her, leading her.
At first, I don’t see it, too mesmerized by the sight of her, by how powerful she truly is.
Gods, her power is endless.
I peek at our bridge, finding it slowly turning from wood to gold, the power leaking from under her door despite it being sealed. But then a soft voice whispers from the boat beside me, and I finally take notice of what’s happening around Delilah.
“The water is lowering.”
My head snaps to Harlow to find her mouth gaping in horror.
Following her gaze, my brows furrow as I scramble to rise. “That’s impossible.”
Yet the truth of the matter is staring me in the face.
The water is lowering. Where it’s going I have no idea, but the rate that it’s disappearing is alarming.
I look between the disappearing ocean and the sight of Delilah surrounded by golden magic pouring out of every inch of her. The block of ice beneath her knees surprisingly holds steady.
A ripple in front of me has my back straightening as the pod rises.
“Oh my,” Naia breathes, awe tinging the ancient mermaid’s voice.
I should feel panic at what’s occurring, protectiveness even, and yet there’s a steady flow of calmness humming throughout my body. I have no doubt it’s coming from Delilah’s side of our bond—or perhaps I should say her magic.
Delilah looked just as shocked and startled as the rest of us, and something tells me that’s because none of this was her conscious doing.
Perhaps this is what the magic has been building for.
The endless flow and state of it preparing for this exact moment.
The prophecy comes true before our very eyes once more as Delilah straightens, her hands moving out to her sides and then rising, her golden hands taking a heaping of water as she does so. The ocean’s icy water flows between her glowing fingertips, but it isn’t the only thing she takes with her.
Waves roll out, our boats rumbling as the ocean seems to shift.
A groan echoes throughout the dome, deep and heavy. I tilt my head back to see the griffins trying to penetrate the dome—more specifically, Aurora going feral, her fangs and sharp claws thrashing against the golden magic.
The groan comes again, louder this time.
It isn’t a sound from a Fae or an animal. It isn’t from a living creature at all. This is the sound of the very planet we stand on shifting— rising.
Water explodes in all directions, spraying us in the process as something dark pierces the surface. With it, Delilah’s arms lift in one fluid succession.
It takes my mind a moment to wrap around what I’m seeing, to truly grasp what is happening before me.
The mermaids in front of me stiffen, their heads slowly tilting backward as Delilah, with one final lift and surge of power, raises a sunken island.
As the water rolls off what appears to be a small rocky terrain, Delilah’s arms fall loosely by her sides, her gaze unseeing as a small shadow of a smile graces her lips.
And then she collapses, the icy water claiming her golden body.