“The Library,” he wheezed, his lungs crackling.
Emory took off, her footfalls echoing down the hallway, not looking back once. Pumping his arms, he followed, seething low under his breath.
Low laughter echoed behind them through the doorway. He swore, stumbling as his knees grazed the unrelenting floor. He felt the skin on his kneecap tear, warm blood trickling down his leg. Pushing himself back up, his legs shook from the defiance of gravity, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
Do not look back. Do. Not.
A sharp tugging sensation caught his left wrist, and gravity left him once more as he slammed into the cold stone floor. Black dots tinged his vision, threatening to pull him into unconsciousness as the cutting taste of iron filled his mouth.
“Adair!”
Emory’s scream seemed distant, like he was below water being pulled further away from the world above.
Throwing his weight forward, he scrambled, nails breaking as his fingers tried to find something to hold on to. Pain, hot and consuming, surged up his shoulder and down his side. Someone cackled, and he vaguely realized that he was being dragged backward.
Rolling, he looked at the leather whip cutting into his skin, crimson blood trickling down his wrist. Adair looked to where the group of pirates waited for him. Their leader held the end of the whip, his smirk holding the promise of malice. His pale green hair was braided back, his deep eyes flashing as Adair stopped before him, gasping and shaking. A boy around seventeen peeked around his father, his emerald hair glistening like a gem, his pale freckled skin making his eyes look too big for his face.
Adair begged with his eyes, for mercy, for the boy to do something.
Jutting his chin out, the boy shook his head so fast Adair almost didn’t catch the movement.
Pain flared in his chest as Adair felt a heavy boot crunch against his sternum, pinning him flush to the cold hallway floor. Gasping, he tried to get up, to move, and the man only pressed down harder until Adair was sure he was going to break his bones.
“My, my, this place is very interesting, isn’t it?” The man’s voice was dry and full of authority, and he flashed Adair his gold teeth, searching his face. He leaned closer, “Now what should I do with you?”
Adair couldn’t breathe. The walls seemed closer, the hallway blurring. Shouts filled the hallway, and Adair looked up to those leering faces. Teeth snapping, laughter clawing at Adair’s edges. Their taunts. Their insults. And the boy standing in the middle of the throng, doing nothing but watching him as the distant words became a sharp humming in his senses. The humming becoming a madness.
And he snapped.
Adair’s ability shattered through him, and with its inky claws, he sunk them deeply in his victim, relishing in how quickly the boy’s mind bent to his will. Adair flashed open his new perspective and looked at his form still pinned on the floor; his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The man paused for the briefest of seconds at Adair’s lack of struggle.
The boy’s voice was smooth, and Adair started to laugh slowly. The man turned to look at his son, his back stiff. Only to find that his once emerald eyes were now pitch black.
“What the...?”
Adair didn’t wait; he didn’t care that he was outnumbered. He launched himself toward the man, aiming low and throwing all his weight forward.
The man dodged his attack easily. Chuckling darkly, he said, “Oh, boys, we have a fighter. Shall we entertain his idea?” Mocking laughter rippled around the group, and the leader lazily took in his son’s imposter. “You need to leave my son out of this. How about a fair fight in the body that is yours?”
Adair felt the boy’s thin lips pull upward. “You won’t fight fair, why should I? You wouldn’t dare hurt him. Now tell me why you’re here. What do you want?”
The man paused, tilting his head as he assessed him. Adair tensed, his muscles pulling as he prepared to fight. The man bared his teeth, making Adair flinch. Before he could say anything, a low hissing filled the hall.
Spears of ice flew past Adair, lodging themselves firmly in the man’s cloak, the force throwing him backward and pinning him to the wall.
“Try touching my son again, and I will make sure I don’t purposefully miss.”
Bresslin Stratton was a force to be reckoned with as she strode forward, the group of rovers trying to block their leader from her wrath. She smirked, her gaze as cutting as a sword, frost spreading down her fingertips and hands.
“Wrong answer.” His mother was fluid as water, as ice shattered their trance. Ducking, Adair let go and slammed back into his own body, scrambling to get out of the way.
“Adair!” Emory ran up to him, dropping to her knees and clutching his bloodied hands. “Are you okay? I went... I got...” Stopping, she gasped as she looked at his open wounds from the leather whip, his blood dripping onto the floor.
“Em, I’m okay. It’s going to be okay.”
Adair cupped her face for the briefest moment, breathing hard, before strong hands wrenched him up. His father’s face was contorted in anger when he said, “What did he do to you? Adair, what did he do?”
Spittle flew from Cesan’s lips. Emory blanched behind them, unaware that Adair’s blood was smeared on her cheek. Cesan shoved him back, his silent rage rolling in waves.
“Dad, no!” Adair’s voice cracked and landed on deaf ears as his father stalked to where the intruders were now pinned by his mother’s enchanted ice. Bresslin paced back and forth, her cutting gaze making their visitors wary and, for the first time since arriving, silent.
Lurching at his father, Adair found himself grappling at thin air, his vision spinning violently.
One more step. One. More.
