My lips parted, but the shrill shriek of the spirits poured through my skull until thought dissolved into white noise. Thevortex swelled too fast, filling every corner of my being until it demanded a release I did not know how to give.
I clenched my fists, trying to reign in the violence I could feel brewing in the air, but the spirits were too strong, their movements increasing until they formed a blinding, silver light that seared across my vision.
“Stop,” I whispered, barely hearing my own voice through the cacophony, but they did not listen. Their sounds sharpened, rising to a fevered pitch that scraped against the obsidian walls.
“What are you doing?” Neya shrieked. “Stop it! They are under your command.”
I blinked, the world a blur of silver and shadow, and abruptly dropped my hands, hoping the power would collapse inward and retreat. But the thought fractured, and the power followed that fracture, veering sharply away from my intention.
Quicker than a lightning strike, the energy lanced out and landed directly on Neya’s chest, hurling her across the cavern like a leaf in a gale. Her body hit the obsidian wall with a force that made the stone itself shudder and groan, dust breaking loose from the ceiling in a fine, dark powder.
The spirits retreated with murmurs, settling into the mist as the cavern fell silent.
My chest rose and fell in frantic bursts, and the fire that had filled me was replaced by a hollow ache so sharp it made my stomach turn.
I stared in horror at Neya, her white robes now dulled and streaked with dust, her body crumpled like a discarded doll at the base of the shattered wall.
Regret washed over me, fast and hard, drowning the remnants of my anger.
“I did not mean—” The words caught in my throat.
Bater was at her side in an instant, his face pale as he bent low, his hands hovering over her chest. For a moment, he said nothing, and then he released a shuddering exhale.
“She is not dead,” he murmured, his voice tight. “But she is hurt.”
His head lifted, and his gaze met mine. “What did you do?”
“I do not know,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “The spirits crawled into my head and fed on my anger, and I could not force them out.”
I pressed a hand to my temple, the echo of their cries still rattling inside my skull.
Bater rose slowly and caught my arm, his grip suddenly harsh, his fingers digging into my skin.
“Let go of me,” I said, panic twisting through my chest.
His hold tightened, and his voice dropped to a low whisper edged with command. “You must leave. I will send a healer for Neya. You need to rest.”
My body was still vibrating from the torrent I had unleashed, every nerve buzzing with the aftermath.
“Go,” I said, letting my voice falter as I pressed my other hand to my forehead. “Go and tell Talon. I just need a moment alone. I did not mean to hurt her.”
Bater frowned, his gaze flicking between me and Neya’s crumpled form on the stone. For a moment he hesitated.
Then the severity of her injuries won out.
He muttered a sharp curse and took off at a run, his footsteps echoing down the corridor until the sound faded into the distance.
Only when he was gone did I brace a hand against the wall and steady my breathing.
My body was shaking, yes.
But I was alone now.
And I was not about to waste it.
The Umbral swallowed me as I moved through its twisting veins of stone, the corridors tightening and the air growing colder and heavier the deeper I went.
The carved markings on the walls vanished, replaced by bare, unwelcoming stone scarred with marks that looked as though desperate hands had clawed at the rock. The air carried a smell that turned my stomach—dust and damp mingled with something sour and metallic.