Elana opened her eyes, blinked once, and promptly threw up.

  Oh don’t be so dramatic, Yustitsiya said from inside Elana’s head.

  “Thank you,” Elana mumbled, wiping her mouth with a hand that glowed cobalt with infused uzhas… Sila. She caught sight of the still form of Sofia, and her chest tightened. The sculptor’s mind was completely black. Dead. “May the Sovereign Sculptor guide your soul,” she whispered.

  The Sila, Yustitsiya, curled around Elana. You are wasting time.

  Resounding thuds echoed through the vault and Elana started.

  We need to leave before they break through my barricade, Yustitsiya said.

  “Ah, yes. Yes. Good idea.” Elana hurried to the control room door and placed her hand on the lock.

  “You…” a deep voice said from behind her.

  She spun, eyes wide.

  Chernov stood by the first chamber, a visage of pure rage twisting his features. Blood stained his coat, but the bolt was gone. Four phials tumbled from his hand and clattered to the floor—some, healing extracts, doubtless. He took an unsteady step towards her.

  Anger surged through Elana. She looked at Sofia, dead on the vault floor. She gazed at the bodies of the soldiers, the men Chernov had taken and broken to use for his own twisted purposes.

  Chernov took another step, steadier this time. He pulled more extracts from the pouches on his waist and drank them, then doubled over with a pained gasp.

  I will take care of him, Yustitsiya said. Throughout the vault, the alchemtek constructs crafted from dead Sila rose.

  Boom!

  An explosion shook the vault. With a cry, Elana clamped her hands over her ears and cowered as huge chunks of stone pummelled the ground around her with muted thuds. She quickly used the Sila to repair the damage to her hearing—

  —and instantly regretted it as throaty yells filled the air. Elana looked up, and the blood drained from her face as she watched a hundred soldiers swarm through a jagged hole in the barricade.

  “You take them,” Elana said, sprinting at Chernov, “I’ll tackle him.”

  Chernov roared and leapt. His eyes glittered solid black and his grey mind changed to a deep red.

  Elana faltered, she knew that look.

  Strength extract induced rage.

  Chernov rammed into her, driving her back until he slammed her against the vault wall. Air burst from her lungs, and she fell to her knees.

  Blinding pain seared her ribs as Chernov kicked her, lifting her into the air.

  She landed on her back, dazed.

  Chernov grabbed her collar and yanked her to her feet, a snarl twisted his lips as he released her and struck.

  Blows rained down on her, and she tried to shield her face. As tough as the Sila made her skin, his punches still hurt. A lot. One punch slipped past her hands and struck her chin, snapping her head back. Stars flashed in her vision.

  She shook her head, trying to clear the stars.

  Chernov gave her no respite. He threw a punch at her head, which she moved to block.

  But his punch was a feint.

  The real punch buried into her stomach and once again forced the air from her lungs.

  Elana gasped, her stomach throbbing as she tried to draw in air. It stuck in her throat, refusing to fill her lungs. Tears blurred her eyes, and a kick landed unseen, sending her crashing to the floor. A whimper escaped her lips as the agony in her side consumed her.

  Another kick lifted her, throwing her into the wall.

  She was going to die, she knew it.

  Elana! Fight!

  Blow after blow sought to break her, to reduce her to pulp. She tried to curl into a ball, withdrawing into herself.

  Kick.

  Do something! Yustitsiya screamed in her mind. Before he kills you!

  Elana groaned and sucked in a small breath.

  Kick.

  As the torment continued and her world faded to black, the faintest glimmer of hope sparked.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Kick.

  Elana let the Sila seep through her skin and form a layer around her torso beneath her coat.

  Kick.

  With her last vestige of strength, she severed from the Sila. Elana hardly noticed the icy chill of the Sila as it hardened around her. She uncurled, exposing her torso.

  Crack!

  Chernov screamed.

  The kicks stopped as Chernov staggered away, his right foot twisted and useless.

  Elana struggled to her feet, every inch of her body aching. The vault spun around her and she fell against the wall, barely catching herself.

  Behind Chernov, the soldiers battled the huge cloud of Sila that was Yustitsiya. Chernov growled, drool and blood dripping from his chin. He lurched forwards.

  Elana shielded her face, palms out, and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Chernov grabbed her, and her feet left the ground.

  Arms flailing, Elana opened her eyes to see the vault floor drifting below her as she flew through the air—

  —and smashed into the table full of alchemtek.

  She skidded across the surface and her head struck a steam engine. Blinding white filled her vision as she slid off the opposite side of the table.

  Dazed, she lay a second before trying to push herself off the floor, but her arms turned to sludge and she collapsed, rolling onto her back a few feet from the table. The blurry bulk of the steam engine teetered at the edge of the table to her left.

  Chernov appeared above Elana as he straddled her, his face manic with rage and lusting after her death.

  Help… Elana whispered to Yustitsiya.

  Kind of… occupied, Yustitsiya said, voice strained.

  Chernov pulled a fist back and drove it into Elana’s face.

  Her nose broke, leaving her blinded by pain and tears. She could see the dull red of Chernov’s mind mere inches from her face. His hot breath, tinged with the stench of blood, washed over her. Elana tried to squirm from below the heavy man.

  But he had her pinned.

  Helpless.

  His hands closed around her throat, his fingers digging into the skin beneath her roll-neck collar. She tried to blink back the tears, but more took their place. Panic welled in Elana’s stomach. Her hearts thundered in her chest as she thrashed, uselessly.

  Then, in her mind’s eye, she saw the deep, impenetrable black of the steam engine up to her left. A desperate idea struck her, and she managed to draw a small breath then began syphoning Sila from her body. Immediately, her throat started to cave, no longer supported by as much Sila.

  Her lungs burned as she continued to push Sila from her body. It curled up the table and lashed around the engine, she could feel the cold mass of dead Sila beneath it. Elana planted her right elbow on the ground.

  Elana gulped down one, final, breath, then shunted the remaining Sila to her right arm. Instantly, her throat collapsed under Chernov’s weight. Eyes wide, she fought the panic that threatened to overwhelm her as she gagged, breathless.

  Rage and malice glittered in Chernov’s pitch black eyes. He knew he’d won.

  Then Elana—boosted by the Sila in her right arm—pushed off the ground, tipping left.

  Chernov lost his balance and fell towards the table.

  Elana yanked the steam engine off the table with the Sila.

  A wet crack sounded beside her, and Chernov went limp.

  As the world faded to grey, Elana channelled the Sila from her arm into her throat, allowing it to repair her crushed windpipe.

  She gasped, sucking in a beautiful, sweet lungful of air then scrambled from beneath Chernov’s legs. Elana swallowed the sour tang in her mouth as she gazed at the lifeless body of Chernov. The steam engine hid everything from his shoulders up.

  Elana rose to shaky feet. “I killed him,” she croaked. “I killed a man.”

  Yes, Yustitsiya said, her voice laced with tension. But if you hadn’t, he would have killed you and countless others.

  Elana looked up, she’d forgotten about the army Yustitsiya fought. She gaped at the sight. Despite all Yustitsiya’s power, and all the uzhasgart constructs she could throw at the soldiers, barely a quarter of them had fallen. And Yustitsiya seemed… diminished.

  Then Elana saw why.

  Some of the soldiers held flaming torches and when Yustitsiya drew near them they threw the torches into the Sila, igniting it. In a flash, Yustitsiya severed from the burning Sila, turning the flaming gas into solid metal.

  Elana’s blood turned to ice. The soldiers had pushed Yustitsiya towards the fallen gaslamps. If one of their flaming torches hit the gas spewing from the broken pipes, the explosion could kill Yustitsiya.

  We need to leave, Yustitsiya said. I… cannot defeat them all.

  Elana drew a deep breath and pushed down the horror rising within. Yustitsiya was killing herself to stay alive, but Elana had one last thing to do before they could leave. She crouched beside Chernov and gingerly reached into his coat.

  What are you doing? Run!

  Not yet. Elana’s fingers closed around a sheaf of papers and she withdrew them from his coat. The formula for the telepathy extract.

  Pocketing the papers, she hurried to the control room, ignored by the soldiers.

  Yustitsiya made sure she held their attention.

  Elana reached the door and placed her hand over the keyhole. A second later it clicked, and she stepped inside.

  Large rumbling steam engines that pumped gas to the vault’s lights and heating units crowded the room. Elana hurried past them and found the small door in the back wall, a familiar panel sat on the wall by it. Using the Sila, she quickly unlocked it and opened the door.

  An almighty boom roared through the vault and Elena spun. The gas leaks! “No!”

  It’s all right, Yustitsiya said, they hit the gas, but I avoided it. I’m leaving, get ready.

  Before Elana registered what was happening, the giant cloud of Sila swept into the room and picked her up.

  Boots pounded behind them as the soldiers gave chase.

  Elana gasped as Yustitsiya bore her through the corridor at impossible speed. Moments later they reached another door and Yustitsiya set her down. Elana opened the door and a blast of frigid air rocked her. With a shiver, she pulled up her hood and fixed her half-mask in place.

  Beyond the door lay the dark, frost-lined streets of Kosgrad. Icy certainty gripped Elana’s hearts. The moment she crossed that threshold, she would never see Mikhail or Sergei again.

  I am sorry about your family, Yustitsiya said, but thank you for saving me.

  Soldiers’ yells echoed down the corridor.

  It’s time, Elana.

  A tear trailed down Elana’s cheek and froze before it reached her half-mask. “Goodbye,” she whispered, and stepped through the door.

  ***

  Elana and Yustitsiya will return in Crimson Dawn, Book 2 of The Dragon Striker Duology, coming soon to Royal Road.