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“Stop calling it that. You’re a shadow-wielder, Thessa.”
He took her name and attached it to an unfamiliar title. She swallowed, digesting the words he’d strung together. “Just tell me what it does. I was taught it’s like a blanket of death, not much else.”
“Not entirely inaccurate. Shadow-magic can drain the life from someone, yes, but that’s not always a bad thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Offering the end to those who suffer has always been a neglected fact of our kind. Death can be peaceful.”
Our kind.
“Explain the multiplying serpents then.” She began tapping her foot.
“Explain how you blocked a fireball, and maybe I will.” He mirrored her tone.
Her nostrils flared at the mockery. “I don’t know! That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Fine. I’ll go first.” He started pacing the width of the cavern. “My magic is different for a reason. There was an experiment performed on my mother … one that was successful. It’s not a story I wish to share.” He shook his shoulders as if bugs were crawling on him before continuing, “But what resulted were my shadows shifting into serpents.”
“An experiment?” What in the world was he talking about?
“My father was adamant about restrengthening our line, it’s a long story.”
She leaned against the damp wall while memories of that voice coursed through her like a furious storm.
I conjured enough strength to plant a new seed, a kernel of my darkest energy, to restrengthen our line of magic. A power to end the culling, once and for all.
Thoughts reeling, she asked, “I thought demons were wiped out after the war.”
“Shadow-wielders.” His tone was sharp, slicing through her.
She never heard the term used so casually, as if it weren’tjust another way of saying demon. “How manyshadow-wieldersremained after the UnResting?”
“After the war, groups of us scattered north and south. As far from Gravenport as possible.”
It sounded familiar. She had the urge to escape Gravenport her entire life, and an undeniable disdain toward Elementals—as if her blood had known. A pit started forming in her stomach.
“Are you alright?” Soren asked over the silence.
She wasn’t. Crumpling to her knees, she lost her wit and wept.
Why, why, why.
Soren knelt by her. “How long have you had your magic?”
She couldn’t answer. The room was spinning, and her mind was about to burst. Curling on the floor, Thessa trembled atop the damp sediment in desperate search for air.
She couldn’t seem to find any.
Soren hovered over her as she fumbled for her necklace. “Answer me,” he said.
She ignored him. Every inhale was as short and sharp as her exhales, and the lavender wasn’t helping.
“Thessa,” he barked.
“I just got it,” she managed to say.
His sigh rumbled through the cave. He tapped the bony center of her chest. “Put your hand here.”