I stood frozen before Ms. Vera, fear climbing up my throat like a living thing, choking off any words I might have managed. My thoughts raced so frantically they became white noise, useless static filling my head.
"How much did you hear, boy?" Her eyes never left mine, studying me with predatory intensity.
"I- I-" The words stumbled over themselves.
"Speak, boy." Her interruption cracked like a whip.
"I didn't hear anything," I lied, gambling on desperate hope.
"Tsk tsk tsk." She leaned closer, her face inches from mine. "Lying is no good, boy."
My eyes darted around the room, seeking anything I could use as a weapon. The movement didn't escape her notice.
"Don't do something stupid, boy. I'm much faster than you could possibly imagine." The casual warning carried absolute certainty.
I swallowed hard, running scenarios through my head, each one ending in failure. But I had to try something. "Who was that? What's the vessel? And the order? And why do you have to kill Maya? I- I don't understand."
Her gaze intensified. "There's a lot you won't understand in your future, boy. My job isn't to explain everything you don't understand—it's simply to secure you as the vessel."
The words made no sense. This woman who had cared for us, trained us, watched over us for months... nothing made sense anymore. "Vessel? What vessel?"
She sighed, her expression hardening. "That, boy, is one of the things I don't yet have to explain. I'm sorry, but what I'm going to do to Maya is in the best interest of this world." Her voice carried all the warmth of a midwinter night.
Understanding clicked into place: I had to protect Maya at any cost. Even my life. I wouldn't lose anyone else. My stance shifted subtly as determination crystallized into resolve.
"Don't, child. It's futile," she warned, her voice stern.
I was tensing to strike—to die protecting Maya—when a sleepy voice cut through the tension.
"Guys? What's going on?" Maya stood in the doorway, rubbing her tired eyes as she tried to make sense of the scene before her.
My brain kicked into overdrive as I watched Ms. Vera's expression change, felt the killing intent roll off her in waves. I need to strike first. Fast.
I launched a right cross at her face—she dodged it like I was moving through molasses. My left hook met empty air, but I pressed on, channeling everything I had into a right roundhouse kick aimed at her head.
She caught my leg as if I'd thrown a feather, her grip tightening until I felt bones grinding together. "I warned you, boy." Without apparent effort, she hurled me across the room.
I crashed through the wooden wall, consciousness flickering like a dying light bulb. My limbs refused to cooperate as I struggled to rise, vision blurring, ears ringing with the impact.
Through the haze, I heard Maya scream: "Ms. Vera, what are you doing?"
Ms. Vera turned to face Maya with terrible deliberation. One look was all Maya needed—she raised her palm, conjuring flames, but Ms. Vera moved with impossible speed. Before the fire could fully form, she had Maya by the throat, lifting her off the ground. The spell dissipated as Maya clawed desperately at the iron grip crushing her windpipe.
Somehow, I forced myself to stand, every cell in my body screaming in protest. Grabbing a knife from the counter, I charged. I felt Ms. Vera's awareness of me like a physical thing, knew I wouldn't connect—but I had to try. Had to do something.
Then everything changed.
Scythes of wind burst from our room, slicing through the air at incredible speed. They caught Ms. Vera across the ankles, forcing her to drop Maya. In that split second of distraction, I drove my knife into her back.
She screamed and whirled to face me, my attack serving only to enrage her. Before I could blink, she was on me, her fist connecting with my stomach. She caught my arm before the blow could send me flying, using my own momentum to slam me into the floor with bone-crushing force.
I lay there, helpless, as she turned away. My ribs were definitely broken, my body pushed well past its limits. Through blurred vision, I watched Rowan emerge from the room, launching two more air scythes. She swatted them aside like annoying insects. Even with wind-enhanced speed and an air-blade concentrated around his arm, Rowan fared no better than I had—Ms. Vera backhanded him across the room with casual ease.
Maya was struggling to her feet, but in an instant, Ms. Vera's hand was around her throat again. Maya fought with desperate determination, managing to summon weak flames even as the life was being squeezed from her.
Not again. First my parents, then the orphanage, now Maya—I couldn't protect anyone. I couldn't even stand after such a pathetic attempt at saving her. I forced myself to watch, to witness the consequences of my weakness.
Maya's struggles grew weaker, her eyes bloodshot and bulging. "P-pl-ease," she managed to gargle, saliva running down her chin.
Just when I was certain we were about to watch Maya die, Ms. Vera did something completely unexpected.
She let go.