Page 43 of Her Shadow so Dark and Lovely (A Curse of Fallen Stars #1)

Sila

Lorel’s small form crumples as she loses consciousness, drained from the magic she has cast. My shadows catch and hold her and the sharp, mind-searing pain that had been lancing through my skull ceases.

Vika gasps as it releases her, too. She doesn’t stand yet, her breathing coming rough and harsh as she pants.

The glittering shards of her shadows move like embers, dark sparks bleeding away from her form and fading in a constant rhythm.

“What the fuck was that, Sila?” she snarls.

I grin at her, wide and sharp-toothed. “Struggling to handle a little pain, Vika?” I need her to stop thinking about my scribe. “Get up, or get out of the way.”

“You’re not leaving here, not with her alive,” Vika says.

She spits to the side. Blood coats her teeth as she snarls at me and surges up from the ground.

She throws her fist at me again, trying to force me to step around and away from Lorel.

I block her and the sharp shadow shards sink into my skin.

“How sweet that you would let me live when I have betrayed our queen,” I hiss. Blood splatters her face and it hardly makes a difference.

“She’s not your queen any longer, Sila,” Vika says, twisting her knuckles cruelly.

I laugh without mirth. “No, I suppose not.” My shadows lash out, grappling Vika, and she twists and slips from them, ducking back before she comes at me— at Lorel— again.

“Always so persistent, but you never learn, do you?” Vika breathes heavily, rolling her shoulders.

Her shards cut away at my shadows, where they try to push her back.

“You know,” she says, spitting blood from her mouth again. “I never expected to see you fade.”

“You won’t,” I tell her.

“No?”

“No.”

Vika stares at me, the sound of our uneven breathing bouncing off the walls, my half-hearted attempts to annoy Vika with my shadows constantly cut off by glittering shards.

I wait, standing firmly between her and Lorel’s prone form.

If there is one thing that is always true, it is that Vika’s patience is shorter than a breath.

“You’re always so fucking sanctimonious,” she snaps, darting forwards. She dodges my talons easily, shreds my shadows as I push her back again.

“Always so brash.” Vika tries to sweep at my legs, and my shadows react in kind. She tries to grab me around the waist to unbalance me, and I slip from her grasp. She lets out a frustrated growl and returns to her favourite technique— trying to beat me into submission.

I take each hit as she intends, and hold my ground, striking back whenever the opportunity presents itself.

“Losing your temper, Vika?”

“Just give her up. How can she possibly be worth giving up your queen and betraying us all?”

“There it is,” I say, kicking her in the stomach. She falls back again for a moment of respite. Her shoulders heave with her frustration and anger. Her hurt. “I haven’t betrayed you, Vika.”

“You have! You?—”

“I do not wish to kill you, Vika. Were we not friends?” I ask, soft in the face of Vika’s rage.

Her eyes flicker, looking behind me to Lorel. Her face is cold with fury.

“You would invoke that word, now, would you? To save your skin.”

“If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

“You’re full of shit, Sila,” Vika snarls.

She moves again, darting across the space at me. And fine, I am tired of holding back. Shadows surge and curl around her. Vika shifts and dodges. She cuts at me with her shards and I lunge, withdrawing my talons as I grab her by the throat, digging my nails into the skin. This time, I snarl.

“Let us go, or I will put my talons through your throat and tear out your heart.”

“Are you sure you’re willing to risk that?

” Vika says, grinning. Battle rage colours her features manic.

The soft, gentle sound of metal shards echoes behind me.

It would almost be a pretty sound, only it fills me with dread.

I glance over my shoulder, to where Lorel is kept up by my shadows.

All I can do is grip her tighter to prevent her from slumping into the choker of razor-sharp shards threatening her life.

“I could have them cut her thr?—”

I tighten my grip on her throat, drawing blood.

Fear, sharp and cold, grips my insides. “I do not want to kill you, Vika, but if you harm her, you will not survive what I will do to you. And trust me, my dearest, oldest friend, when I tell you that there is no one who knows your fears as well as I do. No one else who can make sure each and every one comes true,” I whisper, leaning in closer.

“We were friends once, and mutual destruction is not what I want for you.”

Vika’s grin fades. “She’s just a scribe. She’s nothing , Sila.”

“She is mine,” I hiss, feeling it in my bones and the shadows that envelop us. Vika flinches. “Now call them off. I do not wish to kill you.”

“You have more to lose than I do,” Vika snarls. We stay locked together, Vika breathing heavily, my nails sinking in a little more each time her body shifts.

“I do,” I say, trying to keep as still as possible.

I know her shards can react as quickly as my talons.

I have faced down a King today for Lorel, kept her alive through multiple attempts to kill her.

I can only hope now that whatever camaraderie Vika and I shared, it will be enough to let us all walk away from here.

Vika’s face twitches as if whatever she’s thinking is causing her pain.

“Fine,” she hisses.

All her shadows melt away from her, and another quick look behind me shows they’re gone from Lorel’s throat.

I let her go and she stumbles back, straightening sharply.

The whites of her eyes are no longer black, though that same dark thick blood we share drips languidly from her fists. Her’s or mine, I could not say.

“We were friends, once. So go, and know that if we meet again, there’s no walking away.”

“Thank you.” I let my own shadows fall away, until I am little more than a weary woman. My shadows lower Lorel to the floor gently.

Vika watches her still, eyes sharp. Closed off. “Go,” she says, setting her jaw. “Before I change my mind.”

I collect Lorel from where she lies, her face soft in repose with dark shadows under her eyes. A phantom memory of that sharp, mind-rending pain slices through my thoughts. Her magic carries a heavy cost. I can already feel the heat of her fever rising under her skin as I hold her close.

This magic is going to tear her apart if we do not get it under control.

Vika hasn’t moved yet. She stands as still as a sentinel, jaw clenched and staring down the hall. I cradle Lorel close and grimace as my blood stains her clean clothing.

“Goodbye, Vika,” I say softly.

For a long while after I pass her, it is only my footsteps that echo down the hall.

I breathe a sigh of relief because Vika will not see me fade, and for that I am grateful.