Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame E.C. Farrell (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📖

The pound of shoes on stairs echoes through the door behind me. Before I can shift, magic slams into my back, forcing me forward, locking my arms against my sides as Iris gets farther and farther away.

20.

I LAND HARD ON MY KNEES, trapped by invisible chains, easily surrounded by more guards in suits. Two of them grip my upper arms while the third lists off all my crimes. Including, but not limited to attacking a member of the Tribunal. They haul me to my feet and drag me back toward the door.

Panic rakes through my chest with talon like force. Every second here is another second Iris gets closer to Max. I have to get out of this so I can get to him, but it’s going to be tricky. If I shift, the magical bonds will simply adjust to my new form, restraining any escape attempt. But with the right spell, I might be able to break it.

Eyes sliding shut to block out the guard’s chatter, I gather every ounce of magic living and vibrating inside me. Sweat evaporates off my skin as it heats up. Pressure thrums against my skull, aches along every bone, begs for release. I restrain it until it threatens to rip me apart.

Then I let it go.

Power bursts out of me in a massive orb. It disintegrates the binding spell and forces the guards backward with enough force to knock two of them out. Using Iris’ vibrations as a guide, I wheel around and sprint across the roof, shifting into phoenix form as I dive into the sky, hoping to the Fates I can catch up before Iris exacts her revenge on Max.

Beams of magic explode in the air around me. I dodge them, dipping and swooping as I speed away from the roof of the Tribunal Building. One scrapes over my back, almost knocking me off course and sending waves of pain up my spine and fear through my body. I have to be careful. Dying this time will mean the end.

As I follow Iris’ vibrations, my thoughts scatter, each landing on the worst things that might be happening to Max. I have to assume he’s still alive if Iris is going to meet them. Unless she’s going for confirmation of death. After all the delays, she might have changed the bounty to a simple hit.

Fear pulls a mournful sound from my chest and phoenix song spears the sky around me. I release it in a rush, not caring who hears my call. Even if I can reach them before Yaritza or Iris hurts Max, how can I possibly save him? I toss my head to shove that thought away.

I gave up a chance to get rid of my curse for this. Wasting that isn’t an option. Which means I need to work every angle. If I didn’t have to concentrate on tracking Iris, I could try to send a message to Aline, appeal to her one last time to end this in a way only she can. With Zeph’s shell helping me, there’s a strong chance I’ll actually reach her.

But why waste my magic? She cares enough to send a gargoyle to protect her son, but not enough to resolve the problem entirely. Like my dad, her concern only goes as far as it doesn’t inconvenience her, and the chances of that changing are slim to none. No reason to hold out hope.

Movement on the horizon steals my attention entirely from this depressing line of thought. I speed up, narrowing my sights on what soon appears to be another phoenix. When the vibrations confirm it’s Iris, I slow down, keeping her in my sights, but not trying to catch up. If I can just follow her, I might be able to attempt that potentially worthless message to Aline.

It’s probably a waste of time, but again, I have to work every angle.

Mentally, I recite my spell, focusing on the seashell as I add Aline’s name at the end and resisting the unbearable urge to rip into her. Aline Avila, this is the bounty hunter working to save your son’s life. I’m asking again that you put an end to the price on his head. Only you can give him the peace he deserves.

Silence settles in my mind. An oppressive, restrictive kind that inhibits my breath, stokes the flames on my wingtips, and tempts an angry cry at the back of my throat. I snap my beak but avoid making a sound. Aline has caused enough trouble. I won’t let my anger with her give me away.

Iris soars just beyond the bounds of Memphis, swooping down toward a skeletal building in the middle of an abandoned construction site. I trail her at a distance. My muscles burn with a desire to speed up, but I tighten them to resist the urge, refusing to give myself away.

Our shadows skim across lonely construction equipment as we near the dusty ground. The last dregs of sunshine catch scattered bits of metal, dark mud cakes tractor tires and splatters security glass. Nearby streetlights blink on as darkness falls, but their cool glow does very little to chase away the night.

Iris flies into the pitch black through one of the gaping windows. I pull up short, shifting as I settle on the dirt in human form. Gulping down a deep breath, I sink into a crouch, running on the balls of my feet for the nearest door. Even with my keen eyesight, I can barely see as I slip inside.

I doubt very seriously Yaritza will risk much light, at least not where it might be seen from the outside of the building. Careful of every step, I move forward gingerly, listening for voices. The metal supports around me creek as they settle, a sound like frustrated groans, and wind hollers through the windows. It gives life to the dark around me. My imagination animates every black pocket and shadow.

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