Chapter 30 · That distinction won't save us
"That distinction won't save us."
"It might."
Her breath caught again, softer this time.
The Judicator's cannons reached full charge.
Raven raised his ash-covered hand. "On three."
"No."
"You always argue at the worst time."
"Because your plans are terrible."
"One."
"Raven—"
"Two."
She shoved him sideways and threw her sword.
The blade struck the Judicator's chest and burst into white fire. The machine recoiled. Its cannons fired.
The twin blasts hit the altar.
Stone exploded. Heat ripped through the chapel. Raven felt Seraphina's pain before he saw her thrown across the floor.
"Seraphina!"
He ran.
The tether pulled him toward her, but the distance stretched as the blast knocked him back. Five paces. Four. Three. The red warning beneath his skin climbed toward his throat.
He reached her just before the limit broke.
His hand closed around hers.
The boiling pain stopped.
Seraphina dragged air into her lungs. "You said three."
"I changed my mind."
"I hate you."
"You keep saying that while holding my hand."
"Because if I let go, your blood cooks."
"Sure."
She shoved a broken shield toward him. "Get behind that."
"You take the left."
"You can't fight it head-on."
"Neither can you.
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