I can't, I can't, I can't,I thought brokenly even as I tried to twitch my fingers, to press my palm to the ashy floor, to getbackup.
Vann's death played on a loop in my head, and my cruel mind replaced his face with Mav's, with Void's, with Sang's. WherewasSang? Where was my Cheshire Cat?
It had been so long since I saw him, I knew he could have been dead. My stomach cramped. I didn't manage to twist away as vomit clawed up my throat and spewed out all over my damaged body.
Great, now I was going to die of infection.1
It took immense effort to blink my eyes clear enough to see the rest of the room. I'd been discarded and forgotten while—oh god, while the Origin and Vann pressed Mav into a corner.
No wonder he cried out in pain. His side was cut open, blood pooling at his feet, and one of his tentacles was burned as badly as my arms, the armour singed right through.
No.
The word echoed through my head as the Origin scalded another of his tentacles, knocking aside his attempt to strangle her.
No. Not Mav, too.
I could barely look at Vann, the stranger wearing my friend's body like a costume. Mav had been right earlier, hadn't he? We had to stop this. We had to … had to kill him. That wasn't Vann anymore.
I pressed my hand behind myself for stability and attempted to push off the floor, but I couldn't lift my ass an inch before pain weakened me. I slumped back against the wall with a gasp and—wait, the wall shifted slightly as I fell against it.
Turning my head dragged a scream up my throat, but I throttled the sound. I couldn't remind everyone I was here, not quite dead.
Oh. It was atableI slammed into. It must have been knocked on its side when the room exploded. Wait, but if the table was here…
My breath came in shards as I craned my neck, searching the floor for the weapons that covered the table. Every tiny shift of moment, every increment, made blinding pain catch fire inside me. The only place that didn't hurt was my side. But a dark, blocky shape sat by my hip, and another rush of tears stung my eyes as I inched my fingers towards the cold grip.
A flash of agony shot up my arm, travelling over burned patches and raw blisters, but I forced my fingers to curl, hauled the gun into my lap, and trapped a scream between my teeth as I pulled the trigger—
And nothing happened.
Please, please…
I squeezed the trigger again, but no rush of void shot out like I saw Mav's gun do earlier.Fuck, could it only be worked by a shadowkind?
If the Origin was right about me being 'corrupted' by the void matter I'd taken into my body, I should have had shadows inside me. But how could I bring them to the surface so the gun would work?
I reached for the pain that made my magic flare, hoping the darker magic was hidden there too, but before I could grasp anything, a frantic yell had my head snapping up.
"I'm coming, sweet human!"
That was Sang, my kitty mate, my Cheshire Cat.
Alive, and well enough to speak.
Weakness made everything hurt even more, and I could barely pull a breath into my lungs. Sang was coming. He could help Mav before the Origin and Vann hurt him even worse. Everything would be okay now.
I searched the huddle of weapons and keepers around Mav—they were leaving Void thankfully alone—but I couldn't see Sang. I couldn't shout back to him, or I'd tell them I was alive when they must have thought I was dead.
"I'll be right there," Sang yelled, and my heart soared, my hands starting to tremble. Everything was gonna be fine. "Just gotta rip this guy's intestines out and—"
His words cut off with a blood-curdling scream and my whole body jolted. I went so numb I didn't feel the burns on my body, didn't feel the torture pouring through my veins. Sang was being hurt, exactly like Mav had been hurt, and—I'd had enough.
Adrenaline and pure, lethal rage slammed through my heart, and I clenched my teeth, swivelling my head for a weapon I could use. Light glinted on metal, and I didn't give myself a chance to reconsider, to think about how painful it would be. I lunged for where a sword fell in the explosion, brushing dust off the hilt and grabbing it tightly.
My pain was numbed, but I knew when it came back, when the adrenaline wore off, it would be excruciating. I had to use this strength while I had it.
I allowed myself a single steadying moment to find my balance, to catch a breath, and then I sank into the obliterating pain of the day I lost Vann. He might have been across the room, fighting while Mav tried to fend off his brother with bleeding, burned tentacles, but my friend died that day. It hurt worse than anything. But I could turn that pain into power. I could use it to fight alongside Mav, to defend Sang and protect Void.