It looked like they were trying to cast a ward around the arena, to protect their sisters inside. But they hadn’t finished, and they were too close, way too close. Because I only saw through Svares
tri eyes, and that meant—
“No!” I yelled, stretching out a hand as a dozen women were blasted with a line of those energy spears, so hard that they were launched into the air still burning. The rest of the Svarestri reinforcements appeared on the plain a moment later, dropping the glamourie they’d been using so quickly and so uniformly that it looked like they’d stepped out of thin air. And I’d been right.
There were thousands.
“Say again.”
My head came up as someone’s voice echoed in the space around me.
“Say again. We didn’t hear that, sir.”
Sir?
For a moment, I just lay there, uncomprehending. Before noticing that a few of my outstretched fingers had slipped inside the image. Like dipping my hands into a pool. Only it wasn’t a pool, was it?
Like these weren’t TVs.
They were minds.
Svarestri minds, linked through some kind of spell. A communications spell, because they had to coordinate the attack someway, didn’t they? And their king was kind of busy right now.
Unlike their captain, I thought, staring around.
“Sir? Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” I rasped. “Yes, I can hear you. Pull back.”
“Sir?”
“Pull back! The king—the king has another plan.”
“Sir . . .” It was the voice’s turn to sound confused. “We’re under attack. Can you confirm—”
“It’s confirmed! Pull back!”
Something rocked the image, leaving me unsure whether the convulsion was on my end or theirs. Or both, I thought, as I was jolted around at almost the same time that the ground erupted under the fey, enough to throw them and the remaining witches off their feet. And causing the Svarestri to look to their leader for instructions.
“Damn you, pull back!” I yelled. “Now, now, now—”
“Pull back,” the fey in charge started yelling. “Pull back! Pull back! Pull—”
The voice cut out and I was snatched violently out of the image, and up to a face I couldn’t see, because it was made out of shadow. But I didn’t need to see it. There was only one spirit in here besides me, the one whose body I’d hijacked. And it looked like he’d figured out that he still had company.
Probably about the time I started yelling orders.
And then agony tore through me.
I staggered and went down, my vision blurring, my hearing fading in and out. And wondered if the fey had just made a killing blow. And maybe he had, but the severity of the attack was also my salvation. A glittering cloud of my power flooded the air, blazingly bright in the darkness, causing the fey to stumble back in surprise.
And giving me a chance to tear away.
I scuttled under some nearby images, power still gushing out of me because I didn’t know how to stop it. I was panting in pain and fear, ducking and dodging, trying to find a path through the constantly moving images, to see a pattern in their movement. But if there was one, I couldn’t tell.
Until I focused a little too long on one off to the left, where I thought I saw a familiar face. Only to have it suddenly speed toward me, like a freight train. No, I thought desperately. Not now—
And then it grabbed me.