Page 142 of To Kill a King

Aliya

Aliya opened her eyes. The world spun. Good thing she was lying down. She felt weightless, but her head was heavy. Vapor wafted from her body and cascaded to the floor. It looked like the smoke from the fall festival. She looked at her chest. A small light sparkled there from within—her magic. She blinked. Her sternum was see-through. She tilted her head. Her arms and legs were transparent, too.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she frowned. She looked like a ghost. Bracing herself, she waited for her heart to race, for it to thump against her ribs, but it continued with its normal, steady beat. She couldn’t feel anything.

Maybe this was what it was like when someone took too much beggar’s blight? It was probably a good thing she wasn’t outside right now…she’d be laying in the gutters with the rest of the junkies.

Malkov stood off to her left, holding a book and chanting, but if she was translucent, he wasn’t her biggest problem right now.

Aliya turned her head to the side.

Oh.

Her corporeal body lay several feet below, her wrists still in those cursed iron manacles. Malkov had chained her to a stone table.

This cold nothingness must be what death felt like.

Malkov’s incantation cut off and he stepped closer to her, studying the trail of mist flowing from her toward him.

“No, you’re not dead. Not yet. But the drugs have finally kicked in,” he said. “I suppose you can think of this as your soul. Your essence. Whatever term you want to use.” He closed his eyes and went back to chanting, clearly not expecting a response. His voice grew louder, the words faster paced.

As Aliya’s attention focused on him, she bit back a cry. Like her, the King had a transparent image, but his directly overlaid his corporeal body. The smoke wafting away from her pooled around him. His robe, usually red to match the royal colors, appeared black. Hundreds of kernels of light identical to hers adorned his robes, like sparkling jewels tied into a noblewoman’s hair. Each speck seemed to cry out to her, curdling her blood.

More smoke wafted from her now. Her time was running out.

She reached out and plucked one of the bright purple kernels from his cloak. It twinkled between her fingers, like the stars had on Elessan’s skin that night she realized he had magic he couldn’t control, too. She released the gem. It drifted up in a curl of smoke and disappeared into the ether leaving a ragged hole in his robe. Malkov didn’t react.

She pulled another sparkle from his cloak, this one a stunning emerald green. That glow vanished, too. Getting bolder, she ripped another and another, as fast as she could. Absorbed by his spell, Malkov was oblivious. The lights vaporized as soon as she freed them. Without the stolen bits of magic, maybe he would weaken enough to give her a chance at escape.

When the side of his cape within reach was in tatters, bare threads still hanging from his shoulders, she shifted to reach more.

A loud explosion rocked the walls.

Malkov broke off his incantation with a growl and turned toward her. “Cursed elves. Looks like we’re out of time.” He stepped forward and held his hand above her.

The kernel of light in her chest jerked and pulled, rising to his call.

Her back arched as he yanked her magic out by its roots. Her muscles and bones shifted as if he was trying to rip her ribs open from the inside. Her vision went white. In the distance, someone was screaming.

By the seven gods, she hurt so much.

End this, please.

She reached out, wrapping her transparent fist around his diaphanous cloak and yanked with all her strength. A multitude of rainbow-colored lights swirled around her and faded.

A flush of warmth spread through her body. Take that.

“No!” Malkov spun in a circle, his eyes so wide they looked ready to pop from their sockets. He dropped the spell and leapt after the beacons, trying to catch them. “No! Come back!”

Aliya went limp as the pain in her chest disappeared. Her power sparkled, floating several inches away.

It didn’t belong there.

She grabbed for the light, catching it between two fingers. Bringing the spark to her sternum, she pushed. The incandescence slipped out of her hands and hovered over her once more.

Frowning, she tapped her fingernails against her torso. Despite appearances to the contrary, she felt solid. Maybe she should eat the gem to get it inside her?

She grabbed the kernel again, brought it to her mouth and swallowed. The power slid down her throat like a peeled grape, but re-manifested above her again.