Chapter Text
Akkarin took a step forward, then another. Kariko’s face darkened. Sonea followed as Akkarin began to walk toward them. She sent her own strikes at the Ichani and felt a surge of satisfaction as they backed away.
Then, as she felt soft dirt under her feet, something slammed against her mind. She pushed it away, but it returned to hound her again.
—Mindstrike. Shut it out.
—How?
—Like –
Something sliced up the side of her calf. Sonea stumbled and heard Akkarin gasp. Looking down, she saw the leg of her robe flutter open to reveal a long cut. Akkarin grasped her arm. But instead of supporting her, he let his full weight fall onto her, trying to push her out of the way.
Too late. Letting out a soft cry, Sonea fell to her knees. She looked down. Bright red drew her eyes to her hands, which had subconsciously wrapped around the glittering handle of a Sachakan knife.
The knife was buried deep in her chest.
A sudden pain filled every fibre of her body. Never before had she felt something like this, not even that time a dwell had attacked her with his knife when she had refused to give him what little money she had earned that day. The blade must be specially forged to increase the pain for the slaves, she thought.
‘Sonea!’
Akkarin dropped to her side, then rolled her onto her back. He leaned over her, his hands fluttering over the knife she was still clutching with hers.
‘Heal yourself, Sonea.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Then let me –’
—No, she sent determinedly. Not yet.
He looked at her, his eyes full of pain. She let go of the knife and grasped his hand instead. Then laughter, cruel and humourless, cut through the silence.
‘So that’s where I left my knife,’ Kariko crowed. ‘How good of you to find it for me.’
Sonea suddenly understood how it had happened. Kariko had dropped the blade into the disturbed earth. As their shield passed over it, he had sent the knife upward. A trap. A trick. Not unlike what she had done to get into the shield of the murderess.
It had worked.
In the corner of her eye, she saw a movement on the roof of the University. From somewhere above, shouts reached her.
‘Akkarin, look.’
Flashes of magic lit the air around them, but he did not turn around.
‘I’ll Heal you,’ he told her, struggling to twist out of her hands.
‘No,’ she said again, tightening her grip on him as much as she could. ‘If you do, we could lose. Fight them first. Then Heal me. I think I can hold on like this for now.’
In fact, she was not sure if she could. Her heart was struggling to beat fast enough to maintain the pressure on her blood. She had already lost so much. But she knew he had to keep fighting, or they would both die anyway.
She locked eyes with him. ‘I will send you my power. You must –’
‘No!’ he shouted angrily. ‘I won’t lose you.’
‘But this is the only way,’ she told him firmly. She could see the panic in his eyes slowly ebb away as realisation hit him. He knew that she was right. He would tell her the same thing, if their roles were reversed. ‘Look!’ she said again, nodding towards the University roof. He turned around, noticing the strikes that came raining down on the Ichani. Looking up, Sonea saw two familiar faces next to Balkan’s.
‘You’re not shielding anymore, Sonea,’ Akkarin whispered.
She felt a chill run down her spine. If Rothen and Dorrien hadn’t attacked, she and Akkarin would both be – No. She could not let this happen.
—Take my power. Kariko is distracted. If you strike him now, we could still win this. At least then, I – this won’t have been for nothing.
He took a last, pained look at her, then nodded. He knew what she had meant to say.
As the strikes from the University lessened, Sonea heard him draw in a deep breath. There was no time for fancy tactics now. She closed her eyes and drew on all but a tiny rest of her power she needed to keep her body from shutting down from all the pain that threatened to overtake her. Slowly and as steadily as she could, she let it flow to Akkarin.
Then, opening her eyes, she saw Akkarin focussing everything at Kariko and his allies.
The Ichani leader staggered backward. For a moment, his shield held, then his mouth opened in a silent scream as heatstrikes burned through his body. The next man backed away, but managed only a few steps before Akkarin’s magic shattered his shield and burned through him. Sonea felt a surge of triumph. The last Ichani stood his ground. She felt Akkarin’s strength ebbing away. As the Ichani began to advance, a rush of fear came over her. She drew on the last remaining power she could find and sent it forth to Akkarin. The Ichani’s eyes widened as his shield wavered. Then, as the last of her magic flowed out, it fell. Heatstrike tore through him, and he crumpled to the ground.
All was silent. Sonea stared at the three bodies lying before the University. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She felt inside the room in her mind where her power was stored. It was as good as empty. A single remaining spark was all that kept her alive, and she watched as it grew dimmer and dimmer. So that’s what dying feels like, she thought. She felt no pain anymore. No fear. Just emptiness.
She sensed Akkarin, but could not see him as her eyes wouldn’t open anymore. As he moved, her hand about his wrist loosened and fell away.
‘No,’ she heard him cry, but it was only a faint whisper to her. ‘Sonea!’ Grabbing her hands, he sent his mind towards her.
The last spark of her power, of her life, went out.