The Last Spell 45.1

Mireya’s eyes went wide as Cyrin reeled back from the catch— before she had to close them in the face of the blinding light exploding out of their hands.

She saw the glow through her eyelids anyway, heard Dawn shout in alarm and the sound of a crash. When she opened them again, she was too shocked to realize at first that what she was looking down at was Cyrin, lying on their back with the air knocked out of them. The meteorite had slipped from their hand, sparkling innocently on the ground just a few inches away from their fingertips.

“Saints above,” Kaja swore.

“Are they okay?” Dawn exclaimed.

Clarity held up her hands, visibly panicked. “I didn’t mean for that to happen!” she shouted, and Mireya honestly believed her.

Shane staggered back a step out of surprise, staring at Cyrin with a look she could have described as… conflicted concern. Well, if he wasn’t going to help, she would.

“Cyrin?” Mireya called urgently, kneeling beside him. “Talk to me.”

She was really hoping he wasn’t unconscious, because then her command would be ridiculous. But to her relief, she saw him shift, a wince spreading over his face as he groaned in Ren, “Ow, fuck.”

“Valid reaction to whatever that was,” Mireya said.

“What was that?” Kaja demanded, barging over and looking to Cyrin as if he had all the answers.

“Can you tell me?” Cyrin muttered, pulling himself up after Mireya offered him a hand.

“You caught it, and it just— lit up like a second star,” Clarity said, baffled. “It didn’t do that while I was holding it.”

Cyrin grimaced, looking himself over, pausing, then folding his arms to his chest as if he were trying to take up as little space as possible. “I vote to make that rock someone else’s responsibility.”

“Are you feeling fine?” Dawn pressed.

“Yes,” Cyrin said, almost before she could finish speaking. “Fabulous, even.”

“Great, another lie,” Shane said plainly.

Obviously that was bullshit, but Mireya hated to see the way Cyrin flinched and looked away. Even worse, she hated her own hesitation to come to their defense. Of course they were just going to take it. They would, for as long as they believed they deserved it.

“Shane—” she warned.

She didn’t have time to decide what to say to him, how gentle or firm to be with her words. She staggered from the force of the arm that was suddenly flung around her shoulders, pulling her downwards.

“Fire!” Dawn shouted, dragging her under the cover of the desk.

Mireya heard it before she felt it— a crackle of moving flames and a familiar woman’s laugh that sent a chill down her spine just before the rush of heat. Disbelievingly, she watched as the dust on the floor ignited with a frightening speed, agitated into a rising firestorm. A firestorm that had taken over a third of the room and filled it with smoke in the time it took her to blink.

She scrambled away on her hands and knees, Dawn with her, speechless at the ferocity of it.

“Everyone out,” Kaja ordered, and then Mireya was being hauled to her feet.

She coughed— both from the kicked-up dust and the awful smell of the smoke as it burned—waving it away from her face in time to see Clarity dodge another fireball flung by none other than an already battle-weary but gleeful Pia. In a panic, she focused on the communicator around Pia’s wrist, commanding it to release the battery’s power. She heard the fizzle of electricity and a shout from Pia, and although she knew that wasn’t enough current to incapacitate her beyond a painful burn, relief crashed over her when she saw it gave Clarity enough time to take cover behind a large meteorite.

“I’ve got both scrolls!” She couldn’t see where Shane was shouting from, but his voice carried above the chaos.

“Good, now get out!” Cyrin hollered.

Mireya leapt over a tendril of flames snaking out from the main blaze, running for the exit as soon as she hit the ground. The heat hurt the bare skin of her arms, shins and face, even at a distance. Skidding to a stop on the platform outside, she turned back with a thudding heart, and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Kaja and Dawn burst out behind her.

“My path’s blocked.” She heard Shane’s voice catch with fear.

“I’ve got Pia under control!” Clarity called, from a distant corner of the room. “Cyrin, help Shane out!”

Mireya’s eyes stung from the smoke clouding the doorway, unable to see through the haze. What was going on in there? For all she knew, they were moments away from burning alive. She was about to throw herself back in the room when Dawn’s hand caught her wrist.

“Do you trust Cyrin to get Shane out of there safely?” Dawn asked, meeting her eyes with complete seriousness.

In her confusion, it was all Mireya could do to nod.

“Me too,” Dawn said, and there was a hint of something pleading in it. “So don’t put yourself in danger again.”

Swallowing, Mireya managed to step back from the door. Twenty seconds, she promised herself. That was how long she would wait before going in. Not one moment longer.

She only had to count to nine. Her spirits rose when the smoke dissipated in a Force spell’s whirlwind, and she saw Cyrin leading Shane out with the Heir’s arm over their shoulders, bearing some of his weight— and then fell again a little when she noticed how quick Shane was to scramble free of Cyrin, but only a little. As thick as the air still was, she managed to breathe deeply for a moment.

“Clarity?” Cyrin called urgently, turning back to the room.

Cursing herself for relaxing too soon, Mireya moved so she could see inside. Clarity was backed against a meteorite, fire to her left, the wall to her right, and an advancing Pia directly ahead. She was breathing heavily, eyes red from smoke, but all fear seemed to vanish when she looked back at Cyrin and Mireya. Expression steeled over with resolve, Clarity spun up a new spell of Force, flinging it before curling her fingers in a pulling motion— but it wasn’t aimed for Pia. It was for the door.

The last thing Mireya saw was a fireball glowing in Pia’s hand as the door swung in the blink of an eye, closing shut with an awful, final thud.

“Clarity!” Cyrin’s hands tugged at the handle, but it did not yield. They slammed their shoulder against the door, fist banging on the ancient wood. “Clarity!”

Hollow shock rang through Mireya, as electric as a shiver. She stared at the sealed door, lips parted in a silent prayer she could’ve said if she had any belief left in her. What good were Saints? They couldn’t save her friends, not when they offered themselves as the sacrifice every time. What good was she?

Every desperate strike of Cyrin’s fist only hammered in the truth she knew he wasn’t ready to accept, and the one she wished she wouldn’t settle on so quickly: Clarity had made her choice. They had to live with it now— and hope she lived, too.

Mireya stepped forward, placing her hand on Cyrin’s shoulder. “Cyrin,” she said quietly. “There’s no point.”

“I can’t just—” Cyrin tried to shake off her hand, but she held on. “I could—”

“You can’t open every door, Cyrin,” Mireya said, and she hated herself for saying it. “Not this one.”

She felt him crumple under her palm at the words, the fight leaving his body. Shuddering, Cyrin squeezed his eyes shut, letting his forehead fall weakly against the door. His palm slid down the wooden surface. And maybe Mireya did make a small, undedicated prayer right there for his sake and hers that they’d see her again, and not as a captive pawn in someone else’s game.

“Safe wandering,” she breathed in Ren to Clarity.

“Guys?” Dawn’s soft voice cut in through the haze of her aching heart. “I’m so sorry— I know she’s important to you both, and that this is a bad time. But Sparrow— Sparrow’s gone.”

As if on autopilot, Mireya spun around, turning to the edge of the platform. Her gaze landed on the library floor below, and through the towering walls of bookshelves, she could see the mess of bodies left behind from the fight she’d missed. She didn’t know how many people there had been, but there were definitely fewer now. Sparrow was not one of them.

She heard a growled breath from Shane that matched the one lodged in the back of her throat.

“That snake,” Kaja seethed.

“It’s not all lost,” Dawn said quietly, but even she sounded like she was grasping at straws. “We got what we came here for and then some.”

“You might have,” Shane murmured.

Mireya turned her head to give him a cautioning look— then stopped. Shane’s eyes were misty, and it didn’t seem like it was from the smoke. She knew the look of someone holding grief in one fist and anger in the other— she’d seen it in the mirror during those darker years. She remembered the punches she’d thrown at people who didn’t deserve it, and the too-late regret when she’d finally learned to unclench her hands. This was a cycle she recognized. It was not one she could fast-track for Shane, or save Cyrin from.

The only thing to do was to get them out of here before Sparrow returned, or before a member of the Houses’ security came poking around. But first…

“We don’t have the meteorites,” Mireya said, breaking the silence. “Which means we’ll have to cut our losses there and… deal with the fact that Sparrow will have them soon. We need to find Kasumi and Leilan and get somewhere very far from here.”

“Where could we go?” Dawn asked, anxiety fluttering in her voice. “The Houses won’t tolerate us fleeing twice, especially when they make connections to what happened here. It’ll be a global manhunt.”

“We can get transportation in the Gallery,” Mireya said. “A boat will be best. We could slip out of the harbor tonight before the dust settles.”

“Don’t you need a crew for a boat?” Kaja asked.

“I was a pirate once,” Mireya reminded her. “A damn good one, at that. I can run a small boat just fine.”

She hoped no one would point out just how much boats had changed since then. Fortunately, everyone seemed to accept this as an answer.

Slowly, Cyrin pulled back from the door, hand falling back to their side. When they turned around, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen this level of defeat on their face.

“I can find Leilan and Kasumi and bring them to a meetup point,” they said quietly.

“I was thinking I’d do that, actually,” Mireya said, tone careful. “And that you could take the others to the Gallery and get that boat.”

“Why?”

They already have their eye on your friend.

Mireya pursed her lips as Dante’s words came back to haunt her. If there was any chance that whatever had Leilan and Kasumi occupied was related to the Houses, she wouldn’t be putting Cyrin anywhere near the people who wanted to make them their next weapon.But there was no time to explain that to them here.

“They don’t know you survived,” she said instead. “It’ll probably be better if someone else is there to catch them up to speed on that.”

She didn’t think she’d fooled them, but if that was the case, they were evidently going to let it slide. Cyrin nodded after a second of hesitation, turning to the Heirs. “Are you all fine with this?”

Dawn and Kaja both nodded, but everyone seemed to implicitly understand there was only one person in danger of objecting. Mireya’s gaze went to Shane, who was looking right back at Cyrin, arms folded over his chest. Despite the lingering tear-like glimmer in his eyes, Mireya felt cold just watching the stony expression on his face.

“I don’t know if I trust you,” Shane said tightly.

“Is there an anymore in that sentence?” Cyrin asked.

Shane frowned uncomfortably, then raised his eyebrows, like he was suggesting they make their point.

“If there is, I don’t know what I did to earn your trust then,” Cyrin started softly, “but I hope you realize my commitment to your safety remains the same. And if there isn’t, I hope you trust your friends enough to go along with them.”

Shane was silent for a moment, and Mireya found herself holding her breath.

“Alright,” Shane said at last, and to her surprise, it wasn’t anger she heard in his voice. Only bitter, pained regret. “Then we’re all going to want to meet at Pier 62. It’s in a quiet part of the west harbor.”

Mireya spotted the hidden relief on Cyrin’s face as he stepped forward to give her a quick parting hug. She knew they both wished it could’ve lasted longer.

“You have no idea how glad I am you’re alive,” she murmured as she pulled back. “But you’re cut off. No more near-deaths for you.”

The faintest of smirks, the kind you couldn’t see unless you knew what you were looking for, lifted the corner of his lip. “No promises.”

With that, Cyrin was the first to take the stairs down, with one last heavy look at the door and that made Mireya’s heart ache all over again. Kaja followed, and Shane was next. But Dawn lingered an extra second, brushing shoulders with Mireya.

“Stay safe out there, okay?” she asked softly.

And before Mireya could respond, Dawn leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before slipping off to join the others. Startled, Mireya blinked, pressing her palm to the spot her lips had been. She thought she could still feel the warmth of her there— or maybe that was her face getting hot.

When she blinked again, coming back to earth, the four of them were gone, leaving her alone on the balcony.

Okay. She needed to get moving right now, or else she was going to spend the next hour standing here and grinning like an idiot. And then Pia would come out and smite her before she ever got the chance to take Dawn on a dance somewhere. She could not allow that to happen.

“Mission find those Heirs, here we go,” Mireya murmured, taking the stairs down two at a time.