He’s right. The word somehow hurts worse than being called lazy. At least with laziness, there’s some agency about it.

Incompetence is something entirely more daunting.

My jaw works, and I can’t seem to find the words to answer.

When Orion speaks, there’s no pity in his voice, which I appreciate. “I brought you out here because if you ever want to cultivate your magic, you’re going to have to get used to failing. And failing where anyone and everyone can see.”

I nod, fighting the dagger that has lodged itself in my throat.

“Now,” says Orion. “Where were we? Oh, right. You were trying, and failing, to stop my attacks by bending my vines backward, causing them to attack me instead.”

I sigh, too exhausted to bother with a retort. Instead, I just crouch back into a defensive stance.

“Again,” I groan.

Orion’s smile is feral. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Then he sends a vine barreling straight through my shoulder.

CHAPTER 61

BLAISE

I have to physically dig my fingernails into the metal railing to keep from flinging myself in the middle of the fight between Nox and Abra.

My heart pounds as she sidesteps his attack, hearing him even with her back turned. Nox goes flying for the vat of sunlight, his cheek almost skimming the deathly liquid’s surface before he stops himself with his hands on the railing.

The weight of his impact causes the liquid sunlight to slosh over the rim, coating his hands in the stuff.

Nox lets out a strangled shout as a sizzling noise punctures the thick air, the liquid sunlight burning away his skin.

I feel as though I’m going to be sick. Though I want nothing more than to help him, though he’s changed the plan, I know in my heart this is the best distraction I’m going to get for freeing Piper.

I skirt around the railing at the edge of the room, honing my senses in on the fight that’s now broken out between Nox and Abra. Still, I don’t let myself look, just listen.

The sizzling of flesh, the wiping of the liquid sunlight onto his coat, the stretching of skin reknitting itself. Abra’s cry of anger as she lashes out at Nox.

Piper—I have to focus on saving Piper.

There’s a crash down below, but I don’t let myself look.

Instead, I use the sound as a cover as I sneak up behind Piper and whisper in her pointed ear that I’m here to help.

She startles, distracted by the fight breaking out below, but when I go to rip the restraints from her hands, I realize she’s already clawed her way through half of the layers.

She’s pretty good.

No wonder Abra tied her to the rafters. She probably hoped it would limit Piper’s movement, given if she struggled too much, she would fall.

The ropes rip with ease with the talons for fingernails I can now summon at will. As soon as I cut her free, she flips herself over, hands grasping at the railing to steady herself.

Piper gives me a nod of appreciation, but she doesn’t stop to ask questions as she scampers away down the long metal railing that cuts across the ceiling.

I try to hiss that she needs to wait for me, but she’s already halfway across the railing.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter how stealthy Piper is.

There’s no hiding that red hair.

Abra lets out a scream from below, one that signals she’s caught a glimpse of what’s going on above.

That’s when everything spirals out of control.

I allow myself one glimpse below as Nox uses Abra’s distracted attention to land a blow across her neck. She shrieks as his nails make contact, but it’s short-lived. Moments later, the wound heals itself, much faster than it should for the fae.

It’s then I remember the Old Magic’s story.

That when Abra, then known as Mother, was infused with magic from the Rip, her power wasn’t simply potions.

It was healing.

It is healing.

Oh no.

I go to call down to Nox in warning, but I catch myself. It’s too late for that, and judging by the surprise in Nox’s eyes, he’s realized the problem already.

I’m still scampering after Piper across the topmost rafter when the queen sends a dagger hurtling across the room. It delves into Nox’s shoulder, casting him to the floor, writhing in pain.

Poisoned. The dagger must be poisoned.

The scream that flows from my mouth is something primal. I’m going to kill her, but she’s already ascending the beams of the warehouse, ready to cut Piper off before she can get down.

Amazingly enough, Piper is scrappier than she looks. I’m quickly reminded of her fae heritage when she jumps across to a neighboring beam, catching herself. It’s not a graceful movement, like a vampire or a fae, but she manages the jump, which is more than a human could likely do.

Abra’s face lights with fury, but before she can launch herself after Piper, I get to the queen, slamming my fist into the rafter below our feet. It trembles enough to throw Abra off her balance, allowing Piper time to slip down from the rafters and out of sight.

“You stupid little child,” Abra hisses. Steam from the vats below causes her slick moonlight hair to curl in wet whips against her scalp as she regains her balance at the other end of the topmost rafter. “You should have stayed out of our way.”

Our.

My blood chills as I look into Abra’s eyes and find something altogether familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

“Am I speaking to Abra or Cindy right now?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice nonchalant, though I’m rather successful. Using the nickname I gave the parasite helps ground me, strange as that is.

“We’re one and the same,” Abra says, which is a dead giveaway.

“So the parasite then,” I say.