Page 48 of Of Blood and Banes (The Arterian #2)

As if it were my own memory, the dragon’s last seconds of life flash before my eyes, repeating again and again in a dizzying whirl until it slows enough for me to decipher it.

Men, women, and dragons clash into a chaotic sea of battle around me with dragonfire raging in hotspots throughout the valley.

Dragonblades glimmer and glow with bursts of blues as they strike, while other dragons and soldiers fall to the ground with a deathly stillness.

A man, dressed in silver with swirling circles on his breastplate, races toward me, a club poised and ready to strike.

My eyes narrow, and I rear back my head, calling upon the fire within my chest as the man runs into my range.

A shot of pain slices through my back, and when I turn to see the cause, I realize it was only a distraction.

Another man sinks his dragonblade through my wing, straight into my spine.

I can’t fly.

I can’t even run.

As I snatch the man’s head who impaled me and throw him back into the fray, a new blow shatters my jaw. I turn. Another shot explodes in my snout, caving in the ridge of my nose with a sickening crunch, and I gasp out a strangled breath. I can’t breathe. Can’t move.

The man with the club strikes again, bashing me in the eye. Half of my vision goes black, and I fall to the ground. But he doesn’t stop. Walloping me, again and again, as if it were nothing but a game to him. My flesh squelches under the strikes. Bones shattering. Muscles screaming in agony.

Help, help me please.

But not one human or dragon can hear me. They’re all suffering the same fate.

Before the blackness overtakes my senses and the scene and agony repeats, I watch as the man beats his club into my skull. Again. And again.

Tears streak down my cheeks as the images haunt me, replaying over and over in my mind in a dizzying stream of memories, even as I open my eyes and stare at the fragmented remains of the creature.

A sickening heaviness settles in my stomach.

Not only did it suffer it once but thousands of times over being stuck within this limbo, for however long it had lain here.

“I will help you,” I whisper into the screaming void, closing my eyes as another tear trails down my cheek, and I press my other hand to the skull. I’m here. You are not alone…

Summoning every bit of my strength, even as my arms tremble, I reach for the creature’s soul, pulling it into my palms as if I can cradle it.

Daeja’s presence hums around me, anchoring me to the earth so that I won’t get lost in the chaos and tempting madness.

I suck in a breath, pulling more and more of the creature’s lost soul into my arms until I have every piece.

Without opening my eyes, without letting my focus slip, I break my contact from the dragon’s skull and slam my hands down to the cold dirt before the soul can escape my grip.

As soon as my hands make contact with the earth, I force it back into the ground, as if I had to physically shove something as tangible as the skull through the layers of dirt.

“Rest…find peace.” My arms shake violently, tremors snaking up through my chest. Hanging my head, I curl over the ground and clap one hand over the other on the earth, putting all my weight into my palms to ensure its successful transition. To release it back to what magic it came from.

The trembling in my body transforms into something else.

Into a quaking beneath my feet, the very existence of the earth seeming to rattle.

The dragon’s screams fade slowly to a peaceful hum, and even though I have my eyes closed and see nothing but black behind my eyelids, a burst of white flares in my vision before fading to a comforting black.

I wait a few moments in the darkness, my hands still braced against the ground as I fight to regain my panting breath, my heart slamming into my chest and threatening to burst.

But it’s gone. All that remains is peace in the absence of its tortured presence. I slowly open my eyes, staring at my hands and dragging my attention to Sethan and Marge staring at me incredulously.

“You…you did it,” Marge breathes.

Sethan watches me, a hint of a smile on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

After I’ve released two other nearby ripples, we return to the group and continue through the ruins of Ashfall in silence.

A silence just as calming as it is unsettling.

The energy in my body is exhausted, and I hook myself into the saddle just in case.

Every sway of Daeja’s body beneath me has me sliding a little too far to the left and right, and I fight to keep my head up.

When we finally break through the mist, a collective sigh whispers amongst us—or is it from the mist itself?

The sun dips beyond the horizon, leaving behind orange and red streaks in the sky.

Sethan announces we’ll stay at the town of Silkwood a bit farther north, and we only need to keep pushing for another few hours.

Somewhere between sunset and night, I slump forward onto Daeja, and despite the two saddle horns digging into my chest, I fall into a heavy sleep.

Every once in a while I shift to relieve the pressure in my chest from the saddle.

We arrive at Silkwood. A thick, jungle-like forest stretches out north beyond the town.

The humidity is significantly higher here, and I swipe sweat off my brow as the other dragon riders dismount.

Once Sethan has spoken to the outside guards of the city and ushered us into its barricaded perimeter, we are led to the city’s main hall.

We spend the next hour acquainting ourselves with the citizens who’ve been waiting for our arrival.

I’m so drained, though. I sit at the table tucked back in the farthest corner of the grand room. Daeja sits behind me, watching the crowds like a hawk. My forehead rests against my crossed arms lying on the table, my brain drifting to somewhere between wakefulness and sleep.

Someone taps a finger on the table.

Blinking away the grogginess, I lift my head to find Marge. She walks around the table and slides in next to me. “You look dreadful.”

All I can muster is a snort, and I fall back into the comforts of my own arms. I flinch when I feel her hand rest on my back.

She rubs in small, gentle circles until I relax. “You did very well today. Very well every day. You always continue to surprise me.”

I lift my head to glance at her. “Careful, Marge. You might start to sound like you’re proud.”

She snorts and pats my back before her eyes flick down to my chest. I self-consciously pull my arms a little closer to hide the necklace containing the dragon’s breath I already used.

I plan on telling her at some point. But that point isn’t right now.

Especially with an audience. That, and I don’t feel like I have enough of a reason yet to share why I saved Darian.

Instead, I work to divert her attention to something else. “First time I pulled too much, you mentioned I slipped into The White.”

She tosses a wary gaze around us, ensuring no one else is in earshot. Or at least, no one she doesn’t trust. But all the Arterians and Vitalans mingle with the citizens of Silkwood out toward the center of the room. I catch a glimmer of red hair above the rest of the crowd.

I continue, whispering, “When I returned those dragons to the earth, was that where they went?”

“Yes. All creatures go to The White. Unless their souls are tainted beyond saving.”

“Why did you ask if my brother had said something to me when I went into The White last? What would have happened if I touched him?”

She blinks, as if weighing her answers carefully. “If you touched him…you could have essentially brought him back to life.”

The shock alone steals my breath, followed by the next one stolen from the idea of being able to see my brother’s face again.

“And you can’t do that, Katerina. You’re walking a very thin, very dangerous line. Not many can dip into The White like you have without already being dead. And certainly not without taking what their heart desires most. If I ever had any doubt you were the chosen one, it’s long gone now.”

Silence falls into the space between us.

“How do you see the spirits you want to see in The White?” I ask slowly, thinking of how close I’d come to seeing my brother’s face again.

How I could possibly see my mother again and my father for the first time.

Gods, is it so wrong of me to long for my family?

How I would give nearly anything to see them again?

Her eyes are trained on our surroundings before she responds, “You can’t quite control it. It’s a fifty-fifty chance because it has to be desired from both sides. A spirit won’t show itself to you if it doesn’t want to be seen.”

I sag at the thought. Had my brother not wanted to see me? Was it all just some fluke? “Why…why wouldn’t they want to be seen?”

“Magic like this is old, ancient, and dark. Many of the spirits are well aware of the temptation to revive someone familiar. Especially when it’s someone you love. So rather than showing themselves, they avoid contact entirely.”

“So…” my voice dies off. Aiden didn’t want to be seen, and that’s why he didn’t turn toward me? Because he was afraid I might make a wrong decision? “Then how come I could see my brother? His back was to me, and he called out for me?—”

“Have you ever heard of the saying ‘the eyes are the windows to the soul?’ Perhaps he was trying to communicate with you without tempting you to bring him back. No one should even toy with this forbidden magic…but you?” She turns her attention back at me.

“You’re not no one. I believe you can harness it, without losing control. ”

I smile slightly at her vote of confidence, even if it terrifies me.