Sweat trickled down her face, pain lacing across her features as Memphis’s blade cut through her arm. Her words were poison to his heart. No matter what Adair promised her, she still made the decision to go through with it.
Memphis gave himself one second to glance behind Nyx as she parried his blows. In the sea of black, Jaxson had multiplied by the hundreds, trying to overthrow the soldiers.
He was the only one left standing that Memphis could see.
“Jaxson!”
His desperate cry was lost in the madness around him. He had to get to him. He had to save him.
Nyx was backing herself into a corner, and Memphis didn’t wait to reach out into her mind. Filling it with screeching white noise, he watched Nyx instantly freeze, her brows furrowing before she caught on to what he was doing. He shoved forward, clenching his teeth. Nyx’s face paled, and she sagged against the wall.
Turning, he ran. Buzzing filled his senses as he cut down the soldiers around him, fighting his way to Jaxson. He was almost there, but from the sideline, a soldier threw a glass bowl into the throng, sickly blue gas swirling in it.
Memphis’s heart dropped into his stomach. The glass bowl quickly smashed, and the gas cascaded out, encircling them. Stumbling he tried to hold his breath. Jaxson locked eyes with him, fear making them shine bright. He slammed back into one person; the gas was stopping the use of their abilities.
Memphis screamed as the soldier behind Jaxson slid his blade into his friend’s heart. Blood pooled, and Jaxson dropped. Soldiers stepped over his friend’s body, surrounding him with soulless eyes.
Still screaming, he lunged toward them, unhinged and feral. A man from behind him grabbed his hair, shoving him onto his knees, where a soldier standing in front of him quickly landed a punch to his cheek. Blood filled his mouth, and Memphis spat it onto the man’s face - he laughed. The soldier put a knife to his throat, the steel cold against his flushed skin.
Voice laced with venom, the soldier said, “You’re lucky Adair wants you and your rebel girlfriend alive. Otherwise, you would be dead for that.”
Before Memphis could retort, the soldier slammed the pommel of his knife into his temple, and sharp pain shot through his head, his world starting to disappear. He greeted the darkness, allowing it to swallow him whole.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Brokk
The first thing he noticed was the smell of fresh mint overwhelming his senses. Groaning, he tried to open his eyes, the dried blood cracking from the effort. By fire and flame, he was groggy. Breathing deeply, Brokk tried to focus on his surroundings. Objects slowly started to come into focus: a small round table, a blue teapot sitting in the middle with steam still curling from its spout. Scattered chairs and books cluttered any other available surface, and a small kitchen was tucked in the corner.
“You sure did take a turn for the worst.”
A small woman materialized in front of him; she looked no more than twenty, her blonde curls cascading down her back. Flinching back, Brokk moved to get up...except his hands were bound. Fighting against the corded restraints, she smirked at his effort.
“You’re not going anywhere until you and I have a little chat.”
Her dark brown eyes shone playfully back at him as she poured herself a cup of tea. Clutching her saucer, she plunked herself across from him. He gave in for the moment, scowling.
“There, there! Now I get to ask my questions first, seeing as I saved your life and all.”
Saved me?
Memories came back to him.
Nyx and him heading back to the Academy; it had been late in the night. Adair’s men had caught them off guard.
Nyx had greeted them like old friends.
He had been ambushed.
“Trying to piece it together, eh? Your pretty friend left you for dead, she did.”
Numbness spread through his body like ice as he processed what this meant.
“How long have I been here?!” his voice escalated with each word.
“Well, I found you tied to a tree about four days ago, so you count that plus these... About a week then.”
A week.
The Academy would have been blindsided. How would Adair’s men have gotten in though? Nyx could have forced Bryd to expose them, and if she was down, they sat in clear focus for the world.
His thoughts raced with the scenarios, his heart clenching with every thought. He had to get out of here. Flexing his wrists, he fought against the restraints.
“As I said, I would concentrate on answering my questions. You’re not going anywhere fast.”
Twirling her dainty fingers once, the slick cord tightened, cutting off his circulation. Stopping, Brokk eyed her cautiously. Who is she?
“We were heading back to the Academy.”
She clucked her tongue disapprovingly.
“Now, now. We both know that was destroyed many years ago, and I don’t like liars, Brokk, not at all.”
“Is it impossible for you to think you’re the only one who survived? We have built and hid our resistance... That is, until recently.” He gritted his teeth together.
“No. I suppose not, but I am curious how you managed it.” She leaned forward eagerly.
“How do you survive?” he countered.
She slurped her tea loudly and smacked her lips obnoxiously while in thought. Grinning, she replied, “By the art of illusion.”
“Well then, you just answered your own question.”
“How many?”
“We had sixty.”
She deflated. “Your friend went to Adair.”
He didn’t answer, didn’t need to.
Pinching her eyebrows together, she suddenly jumped up running to the next room. Minutes passed as scuffling and muttering came from around the corner.
“Ah-ha!” Running back, she smacked a torn weathered book in front of him.
“Now I have a story for you. You see, I obviously didn’t find you by chance. I followed you. I have been following you.”
His skin crawled. “Who are you?”
“Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Peyton. You see, I have been around for a long time. I have seen and heard many things, and you, my
