Oskar and Sig both step forward at the same time, but the sharp prick of a blade at my neck stops them dead. “Come any closer, and her blood will paint these hallowed grounds.”
I stare at Oskar. Freeze his blood. You can do it. But worry clouds his features. He’s probably scared he won’t be fast enough, that Aleksi will feel the ice magic and kill me. And for all I know, Aleksi is powerful enough to counteract it, especially since he’s wearing the cuff.
“There are so many things you don’t know,” I tell the elder, hoping to distract him long enough for the Suurin to strike. “The elders have been half-blind all these years. And how many has it been, Tahvo?” As soon as I say that old, evil name, the elder edges the blade up under my throat. The stinging line of pain feels like heat and cold at the same time.
“I know exactly who told you that name,” he says, his voice ragged. “And it explains so much. But it’s you who are half-blind.”
Oskar and Sig strike at the same time, their teeth gritted as they send dual blasts of magic at us. Aleksi’s broad hand clamps itself over my neck, and I feel the pull of his magic as he tries to use me to retaliate. Every muscle in my body turns to stone—the horror of being used to hurt Oskar and Sig is more than I can bear. As fire and ice burst around me, I fold in on myself, becoming as small as I can, shielding that bottomless well inside me that wielders use to amplify their own magic. I won’t give it to Aleksi. He’ll have to kill me first.
As if he hears my thoughts, the blade of the knife lifts, and I glance up to see it arcing down toward me. I throw myself back to avoid the slice of it just as Aleksi staggers under the heat of Sig’s fire. Scrambling out of the elder’s reach, I make it halfway between the wielders when Oskar’s fingers rake the air. Aleksi lets out a choked cough. He pounds at his chest and drops his knife.
Oskar runs toward me, Sig right behind him. My ice wielder reaches down to take my hand, but then he’s lifted off his feet and hurled against the stone wall opposite the Saadella’s wing. The force of it is so intense that I feel the impact shudder through the floor. I scream and launch myself toward Oskar, but Aleksi’s hand catches my ankle, and I tumble forward, losing my air as I hit the marble. Oskar falls at the same time, sliding to the side, his eyes closed and his arms limp, his big body shivering and shaking. My eyes meet Sig’s. That strike didn’t come from Aleksi.
“Help me, sire!” Aleksi calls out as a dark-robed figure moves in my periphery. “Elli—she’s an—”
“There’s no time!” says a familiar voice. “Hold them back!”
Sig wheels around as Elder Kauko jogs out of the wing, a struggling little girl in his arms. Her coppery hair is in tangled ringlets around her face, and her round cheeks are streaked with tears.
The Saadella. Lahja. My entire being vibrates with her need and terror.
“That’s him!” comes Sig’s broken shout as fire shoots from Aleksi’s hands, arcing through the air toward the Fire Suurin. I jump between the flames and Sig, letting them caress my bare back.
Sig staggers under the heat that manages to reach him, pointing frantically at Kauko. “That’s him, Elli! He’s the one!” he yells as the elder disappears into the catacombs with the Saadella. But then Sig’s gaze streaks from that dark passage, his eyes glowing. His voice becomes a guttural growl. “Don’t you dare.”
Aleksi screams, high and tortured. The knife he’d been about to plunge into my back falls from his blistering fingers. His skin sizzles and weeps as his robes catch fire, as the copper beneath his feet melts and bubbles. He crumples, and even then, Sig doesn’t let up. He seems determined to reduce Aleksi to ash.
I run for Oskar, laying my palms across his frigid cheek and feeling an avalanche inside my hollow chest. I pull the magic with all my might, wrenching it from his veins and bones and mind, and Oskar moans. But no sooner have his eyelids started to flutter than Sig is yanking me away. “We have to go after him,” he says, his voice flat with fury. “Oskar will live, and I need your help.”
To kill Kauko. Who has the Saadella. And who downed the Ice Suurin with one skillful strike. All these years, Kauko’s been the physician to the Valtias. He bled Sofia, and now I know why. “You’re right—he’s the one,” I murmur. “He’s been the one all along.” All that friendly patience, all that mercy, hiding so much evil.
Aleksi called him “sire,” as if he’s the father of all of them.
I force myself to turn away from Oskar and let Sig pull me to my feet. He rips his cloak from his shoulders and wraps it around me. “I can’t do this without you,” he says, his eyes glowing yet still full of pleading. “He’s getting away.”
The damp cloak ripples around my body as I turn toward the catacombs, where Kauko has descended into the earth, taking the future of our magic with him. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 25