Try can, she muttered, displeasure heavy in her mental tones.
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. Azriel might have implied that I could use the power of this place if I applied myself and believed, but the whole trouble with that was the fact that I had no idea where to begin.
In mind, Amaya said. Will do.
Meaning all I had to do was imagine? That sounded entirely too easy, especially considering absolutely nothing else on this goddamn quest had been. But I resolutely closed my eyes and imagined the ink was nothing more than a suffocating fog. Then I pictured a breeze coming through and scattering that fog, revealing what lay underneath. I fixed the image firmly in mind, put as much belief into it as I possibly could, and literally willed it to happen.
For several heartbeats, nothing did. Then a strong breeze began to play through my particles and there was an odd sort of shift, as if the whole place had somehow moved. I opened my eyes and saw darkness.
But it wasn’t the ink of before.
There were shadows out there now—some humanoid, some reptilian or animal, and some that bore striking similarities to the Aedh. And there were all sorts of flora, round spheres that resembled planets in miniature, and many other things that had absolutely no resemblance to anything I’d ever seen before. It was almost as if this place was some sort of monument to all the things that lived and breathed, as well as all those that didn’t.
Creation’s reference library, perhaps?
But why in the hell would Malin come here?
“To destroy creation, of course,” came the amused reply. “Or, at least, the part of it that references the temples and the gates.”
I swung around, my fingers automatically tightening against Amaya’s hilt. Malin strolled out from behind some kind of stone crustacean, her golden wings little more than gossamer wisps in this place and her body even less defined. But the malevolence that oozed from her being played across the shadows and made it hard to breathe.
You don’t need to breathe here, I reminded myself fiercely. You are energy, and of this place now.
Malin laughed, the sound cutting. “You can never be of this place, little Risa. Do not believe the reaper’s lies, because they will get you killed.” She paused, and I had an odd sense that she was smiling—a cool, cold, cruel smile—even if I couldn’t see it. “Of course, it is not likely you are going to survive this encounter anyway.”
“One of us certainly won’t,” I replied evenly. “But then, it’s not actually me you have to fear, Malin. It’s the remnants.”
She was still moving toward me, her pace even, measured. As if she had all the time in the world and absolutely nothing to fear.
I frowned. Something wasn’t right . . . I swung around and raised Amaya. She connected with something solid and sparks flew, briefly highlighting the long length of blade that had almost chopped me in two. Amaya’s flames crawled down its length, but there was nothing and no one holding the other end. Nothing but darkness itself. Amaya hissed, the sound of displeasure.
Cannot eat, she muttered. Of this place.
Of this place? The thought died as awareness surged. I shifted sideways sharply, felt the air recoil as a fist the size of a car smashed down on the spot I’d been standing in a second before.
A fist. Fucking hell, she was bringing the things that were held in this place to life.
“The remnants cannot hurt me,” she said. This time, her voice was coming from the left, even though her shadowy form still approached from directly ahead. “They dare not. Not in this place.”
I flung Amaya at the Malin I could see, then closed my eyes and imagined myself standing behind the one I couldn’t. There was a brief snap of movement; then malevolence hit me like a punch to the gut and it was all I could do not to exhale in pain. I clenched my fist and swung, as hard as I could. Felt the burn of electricity across particle fingertips as I connected with something—or someone. Heard her grunt before the sense of malice was abruptly ripped away.
I’d hit her. I’d actually hit her. And if I could do that, then I sure as hell could do more.
I opened my hand, felt Amaya thud into it, then imagined myself standing behind Malin again. This time, however, she was ready for me. Shadowed lightning arced toward me, the heat of it so fierce every particle burned. I flung out a hand, imagined a shield, and there was one. The lightning hit it and bounced back to its source. Malin swore and disappeared into the shadows again.
Behind!
Fear surged. I jumped high, flipped around, and swung Amaya as hard as I could. Black steel connected with bloody red and sparks flew, bright fireflies in which I briefly glimpsed Malin’s eyes.
And saw only madness.
She would destroy this place, destroy two worlds, and even all creation itself, if that was what it took to achieve her goal of freedom. I couldn’t fight that. No one could. No one but the remnants, perhaps.
But given that they were conspicuously absent, I had to at least try.
Malin disappeared again. I imagined myself standing to her right and swung Amaya. Once again, red steel connected with black. Malin’s cool smile briefly flashed, and her sword became two, then three, then four and more, each one linking to the next via a fiery thread. I swore and ran backward, attempting to get away from the rapidly multiplying web of metal. Felt the sharp caress of air behind me. I dove away, but not quickly enough. Energy smashed into my particles and knocked me aside, where it pinned me, bored into me, ate at me. A scream tore up my throat, but I bit down on it hard. If she could multiply her weapons, then I damn well could, too.
But nothing happened.