Page 147 of Storm of Shadows

“You are indeed, congratulations.”

Once again, I’m taken aback, as she holds out her manicured hand for me to shake.

With a pride I haven’t experienced in years – which may be I’ve never experienced – I step forward and take her hand in mine.

Only she doesn’t shake it like I expect, she squeezes it hard in her own and yanks me towards her.

“And how exactly is that possible? Only a handful of students have made it to the center of this maze, Miss Storm. Only a handful – powerful shadow weavers with abilities you couldn’t even dream of.” She glares at me. “I think you’re hidingsomething from us, Miss Storm. I think you are trying to deceive us.”

“Wh-wh-what?” I say.

“An ordinary girl like you could not complete a maze like this. There must be something special about you,” she spits, like she can hardly believe it’s true. “What is it?” She squeezes my hand so hard my eyes water and her magic crackles against my skin. “Either tell me, or I’ll be forced to drag it from you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There is nothing special about me. I don’t have any powers, if that’s what you mean. I just got lucky.”

“Lucky?” she hisses. “You expect me to believe that?!”

She pushes me away. I stumble backward but manage to remain on my feet. Only for a moment though, because then something hard and heavy hurtles into my stomach and knocks me to the ground, holding me in place against the earth.

Her shadow magic.

It’s cold like Professor Fox’s, only far more so. Like ice against my skin; like needles piercing my flesh.

“Tell me,” she growls.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I growl right back up at her. Anyone could see that. Anyone who had been watching my progress through the maze would know that.

She raises her right hand above her head, then brings it crashing down. Lightning shrieks from her fingertips and streaks across the space between her. I try to twist away, but the shadows pin me down and the electricity smacks into me. It courses through my body, making every muscle fry with a cold heat. I scream in agony, writhing on the floor. Tears swim from my eyes down my cheeks and I smell burning in the air.

“You ungrateful, deceptive little bitch.” She drops her hand and the lightning stops. “Tell me!” she screeches, her eyes wild.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I croak, my voice raw and scratchy from screaming. Her hand rises into the air. “No!” I scream but it’s too late, more lightning comes snaking towards me. It’s even worse the second time and I start to disassociate once more.

I’m far away. Her words float towards me garbled and muddled but I catch elements of them as my vision swims in and out of focus.

“Why you? … I’ve seen the way he looks at you … he wants you … there must be a reason for it … you’re hiding something …”

Beaufort? Is that what this is about?

Or does she know what I’m really hiding? The object I’m hiding in my closet. The truth about Amelia.

Darkness swoops towards me, then retreats. I try to stay conscious. I need to get away. I don’t want her to kill me.

I attempt to crawl, to heave my body away. But it doesn’t respond to my command. It hurts too much and the weight of the shadows pinning me down are too great.

I’m like a cat, I think to myself. How many times have I blundered seriously close to death and yet survived? Well just like any other cat, it seems my luck has run out.

The darkness becomes more oppressive, her words ever more distant, until I don’t hear them at all.

And then everything stops.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Briony

Is this death?

Am I floating somewhere in the abyss of time and space?