Golden Box Book Publishing One Picture: Thousands of Words | Page 40

Now it was my turn to quiver. “The surge of violent magic hit a
blink after. It was a blunt boom that was felt more than heard, then
the very walls began to shake as it echoed like a silent shock-wave,
pushing wild energy ahead of it, like a ripple across a pond –
expanding as it blasted through the kitchen like some reaping entity
of invisible construct. It hit me and flung me sideways, something in
my ears popping, then hot fluid leaked down my earlobe.
“Everything slowed. I could see the Weave spill through the
kitchen, the foundations of my father’s vast castle now groaning as
the floor buckled and the staff screeched; many lost their balance,
falling like dominoes. My ears were ringing. I tried to get up but
couldn’t; those who somehow stayed on their feet tried in vain to stop
the tables from upturning, the shelves from tipping, and the utensil
from rattling to the now mole-hole shot floor, but it was a lost cause.
“Then the second Weave took out the rest. A pillar buckled in the
corner, the ceiling crashed in: a deluge of plaster and white dust.
Screams erupted as pans of boiling water bounced from the stoves;
injuring. I watched as ovens split; the giant fireplace shook apart,
spilling hot coals onto the spit-dog and maiming Cook as she tried to
intercept. Mercy, Liam, I tried to counter the disaster with a flash
Weave to null the horrors, but it did not take as intended. It should
have worked. But it didn’t! Instead the Weaves behaved like lead
weights as I grabbed to affect a Persuasion that never took…”
Ang’Liamnar swallowed audibly, his pale skin almost see-
through. “I… I’m sorry.”
I cast him a blunt look and clutched my arm where my bracelet
rested beneath my black sleeve.