*Trigger warnings for a panic attack, some blood, and a minimal wound description*

We all ran at Clara at once, and for a moment, it seemed like she actually might win. But Jaret flicked his wrist, sending shadows to flick between her feet and trip her, and Cass tackled her to the floor. There metal flashed as Clara tried to stab Cass in the back with a knife. Before the weapon could make contact, Ista stepped forward and whisked it out of Clara's hands.

Clara laughed. "You're running out of time. The guards are almost here. Can't you hear their footsteps?"

There were footsteps, stomping down the stairs above us.

"What did you do to Lir?" Cass asked.

With a shrug, Clara said, "It's just a little poison on the blade. Enough to knock her out."

Quickly, Jaret pulled the stiletto out of Lir's side. He tore the sleeve off of his shirt and used it to staunch the thin flow of blood that came from the wound.

Cass checked Clara for weapons, discarding two daggers and another stiletto before stepping back and motioning for Brinely and Bran to guard her.

"Do you want me to tell Dren to get us out of here?" Ista asked.

Cass nodded. "Tell him to take Lark first, then the rest of us. She's in the most danger."

Ista closed their eyes.

Cass turned to the rest of us. "We're going to have to fight, but not for long. Dren will get us out of here as soon as he can. He'll need a short rest in between each transport. Whichever one of us is transported first will be responsible for telling Dren that he needs to transport Lir back, and helping him to do so. Got it?"

We all nodded.

"I don't have a weapon," I said. "And there's no way I'm going to be able to get my birds down here in time."

"Here," said Brinley, kicking one of Clara's discarded daggers to me. "This'll do."

I picked it up nervously. "I don't know how to use it."

"No worries. Hopefully we won't have to fight for long."

I turned and met Bran's eyes. He gave me a half-smile, but it turned to a frown as he began to fade at the edges.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"Dren's taking you," Cass told him. "Don't let him forget Lir."

"I won't."

The last bits of Bran's body faded into nothingness, and he disappeared.

Clara stared at where he had been, and she slowly reached up and wafted her hand through the now-empty air. "What in the-"

Cass cut her off. "And here they are."

I turned, and saw that the guards had finally arrived. They formed a line in front of us.

Clara laughed. "Surrender now, Blesseds, or be taken."

"Are you all right?" the guard in front asked her.

"I've been better. Are you going to stand there all day?"

He shook his head firmly, pulling the visor of his helmet down as he did. "No. Sorry."

Nearby, Lir rolled over and groaned.

"Watch her," Cass told me. "Keep her safe, and out of the fighting. Make sure she doesn't get trampled."

I nodded and ran to Lir's side.

The guards and the Blesseds charged at each other, although before they did so, Jaret sent a few tendrils of shadow to fasten Clara to the ground. The red-haired woman tried to pull herself free, but to no avail.

Beside me, Lir groaned again. I turned my attention to her in time to see her eyes shoot open. She grabbed me by the throat.

I clawed at her hand, wincing at the pain of her fingertips digging into the soft skin of my neck. Then she released me.

"What was that?" I asked. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours," she groaned, trying to sit up. Her legs and arms remained limp, and she frowned as they continued to refuse to cooperate. "I thought you were Clara." Again, she tried to sit up and failed. "What is going on? Why can't I feel the lower half of my body?"

"The knife Clara stabbed you with was poisoned," I explained. "It must be wearing off, though, now that we've removed it."

Her eyes glazed over for a moment, but, with a visible effort, she focused them. "Are people fighting? Is that what all the noise is about?"

I nodded. "Cass told me to keep you out of the way."

Lir rolled her eyes. "I'm powerful. I can help them." She strained to get up, but only succeeded in pulling her back a few inches off the ground before she fell, her back smacking against the floor. Her eyes were pleading when she looked at me. "Help me get up?"

"Why?" I asked. "You're drugged. What can you do?"

"Are the guards wearing armor?"

"Yes."

"Is it made of metal?"

"Yes." My mind whirled for a moment, wondering why this mattered. I absentmindedly ran my fingers over the aching places where her hand had dug into my throat. And then I paused, realizing. Metal. Her Blessing. "Oh."

"Oh indeed," she said, reaching up to move my hand away from my throat and wincing at what she saw. "Sorry about that. It's probably going to bruise. Now, will you give me a hand?"

I nodded. "Sure. How can I help?"

"I can probably use my powers perfectly well from a sitting position, so pull me up." She stared down at her hands, which had begun to dissipate at the edges. "And hurry."

I rushed to grab her under the armpits and pull her so she could see the battle. She made a strange motion with her arms, halfway between a swimming stroke and a punch. The armor of the guards who were attacking the Blesseds fused together. They fell to the floor with a series of clangs, unable to see through their visors, or move at all.

"Nice!" I said, unable to hold back my admiration.

Lir smiled, and then she was gone.

"Whew!" said Cass from the middle of the floor. I looked up to see her grinning wildly. "That was close!"

I stood. "Is everyone okay?"

"I think so." Cass turned to Brinley, Ista, and Jaret. "Well? Are you okay?"

Ista shrugged.

"I'm great," said Brinley.

"I'm hungry," Jaret proclaimed.

Cass shook her head at him. "For the love of-" She blinked and did a double take, then smiled. "Looks like you get to eat, then."

Jaret looked down at his hands, which were fading at the edges.

"Oh no!" he said in an overly dramatic voice. "I'm dying! Tell Brinley that-"

Then he was gone.

Ista rolled her eyes.

"I wonder what he was going to say," said Brinley.

"That he's in love with you?" Ista suggested. "Or maybe he's still annoyed about that time when you dyed all his clean pairs of pants various shades of bright green."

Brinley grinned. "Probably the last one. In fact, I bet-"

A blur of movement caught my eye.

I shouted a warning to Brinley, but it was too late. Now that Jaret was gone, Clara was free from the dark tendrils of shadow that had anchored her to the ground. In her hand she held a knife.

As I watched, it sank into Brinley's abdomen.

Something brushed against my mind. A deathbird was above me—far, far above me—and it could sense death in the room with me. It warned me to leave. It feared for my life.

Ista and Cass pulled Clara off of Brinley. Cass twisted her wrist so that her knife clanged to the ground.

I rushed over, kneeling over Brinley, trying to staunch the blood that welled up from the wound. I couldn't tell how deep it went. Blood was everywhere, slippery, and wet, and warm.

My breath caught in the back of my throat, and I plunged into a panic attack.

Ista's voice screamed into my mind.

FYRA. DREN'S GETTING US ALL OUT. YOU'RE OKAY. YOU'RE OKAY.

I felt hands on my shoulders, gentle but firm, trying to calm me down and slow the torrent of breaths that threatened to wash me away and lose me in their depths forever.

A strange, fuzzy sensation wrapped itself around all my limbs. I blinked. I was no longer in the tower. I kneeled beside Brinley on wet grass, which speckled with red as Brinkley's blood poured down my hands.

A deathbird's voice came into my mind.

Death is here. Flee.

I can't, I thought back. She's my friend. I can't let her die.

I saw—no, felt—the deathbird's head tilt to the side.

Live? it asked.

Yes!

"Fyra." The voice was beside me—Bran's voice. "Fyra, you have to move."

I opened my eyes. "Give me a moment."

"What?"

"Give me a moment, Bran! I can... help."

"Okay," he said, and sat down beside me to watch.

My power flowed through me.

I was one with my deathbirds as they swooped down from the sky and landed around me in a circle, one with them as they did... something else, siphoning my magic out of me until I was empty.

It's okay, the birds said. Your friend will live. You can stop touching her now.

I opened my eyes—I didn't even remember closing them—and looked down at Brinley's still body. There was still blood. But it had slowed, and Brinley's chest was falling and rising gently, as though she were sleeping. Maybe she was.

"What did you do?" Bran asked me.

"I don't know," I admitted. Dots flowed into my vision like a wave of insects. I felt suddenly dizzy.

I fell to the ground, my lungs pulling in air suddenly and quickly, sending me into the thick of a panic attack. My world turned black.

What in the world was that? I would never have guessed that was going to happen. (Jk, I'm the writer, of course I knew) Vote if you think this new facet of Fyra's powers is cool!