I pour more power into my limbs, aware that I’ll probably spend tomorrow sleeping off the magical use and bracing against the killer headache the exertion is going to give me.
Even with the added power, I can hear them closing in on me.
I hear one of them whisper a spell, and instinctively, I twist away toward the wall to my left. A ball of acid-green magic whizzes by me.
I right myself and continue. As I run, I call on magic from the earth beneath my bare feet. I feel it sift through the stones and touch my skin, and I yank desperately on it, hauling the gathered power up through my body like water from a well. I funnel it down my arm and into my palm.
“Immobilize!” I don’t even bother whispering the one-word spell before twisting around and awkwardly tossing it while still balancing the girl in my arms.
Awkward or not, it does its job. I hear a cry as my magic hits someone.
As fast as I can, I face forward and draw more magic into my palm.
Selene, are you okay? I nearly trip at hearing Memnon’s voice in my ear. Now he sounds more than just alarmed. What is going on?
I can’t talk to him and get myself out of this situation, so I ignore his call.
“Immobilize,” I say again. That’s literally the only spell I can think of beyond the screaming in my head.
Again, I turn and awkwardly throw it at my pursuers. The spell smashes into the group. I face forward again, hearing one of them curse behind me, followed by the sound of people falling. I don’t allow myself to rejoice before I’m calling on more power.
My muscles are trembling, my lungs are heaving, and I can’t think about anything beyond drawing up another spell.
The ones I’m making are crude, and as a result, I’m burning through an alarming amount of magic, but it’s the best I got.
I hear the whisper on the wind a second before a spell slams into my shoulder.
I cry out as the magic burns through my clothes and sears my flesh. It’s hot as fire, but it feels like acid on my skin, eating away at it.
Another spell is lobbed at me. The violet orb whizzes past my head, and I have a moment’s relief as it hits the ground ahead of me, the magic flaring on impact.
I barrel onward, ready to run past it when—
Bam!
The shifter and I slam into a magically erected wall.
I stumble back, then fall on my ass. The shifter girl moans in my arms.
I don’t even have time to assess how badly she’s hurt; our assailants are closing in on us.
I call forth my next spell.
“Explode.” I twist my torso and throw my magic as well as I can at the incoming cluster of supernaturals. It hits the closest pursuer in the shins—
BOOM!
I cover the shifter’s face and my own against the fiery heat of the explosion. I can hear the witches’ screams as they’re thrown back.
Before they can retaliate, I lift my hand, palm facing them. “I erect a wall from floor to ceiling.” The words come out in Sarmatian. “Protect me and the shifter from those who would harm us.”
Soft orange magic shimmers in front of me, thinning and stretching until it’s formed a transparent wall of sorts. On the other side of it, robed witches are getting up, though they sway and stumble, and I remember all over again that they were given something to drink.
My heart falls when I see there are at least ten of them. So many. And they’re all so determined to get this girl and help bind her to that priestess.
The thought sends a fresh bolt of terror through me.
Empress! Memnon’s voice is demanding and laced with panic.
I’m busy. I force the message down that river between us.
What is going on? he demands.
Ignoring Memnon, I turn from the rising witches and face the magical wall. It’s violet hued and semitransparent.
I kick at it with my heel. It doesn’t budge.
I draw on more magic, my limbs shaking from exertion. I try to pull it from the ground and into my flesh so I minimize taxing my own limited well of power.
The magic sifts into the soles of my feet, and when I start to hear witches banging on the barrier I erected, I coax the gathered power up my legs and down my arm.
A small pale orange ball of it bursts to life in my hand.
I throw it at the magical wall in front of me. The wall ripples, the violet sheen of it fading a little, but it holds.
At my back, the other witches are doing the same thing to my wall, pummeling it with spell after spell. So far, it’s holding out better than the one in front of me, but there are many of them working on bringing it down.
I spare a glance at the shifter. Before, she’d been dazed but awake. Now she lies limp in my arms. I shake her a little, willing her to wake, but though her chest rises and falls, she remains unconscious.