Priscilla’s POV

My hands flew up to Sekhmet’s brutal grip. Oriana wasn’t tall enough to hold me off the ground.

A fraction of her strength would kill me, end the incessant chanting bubbling and coughing from my lips. I gasped for breath, my feet limp against the ground. I didn’t have enough oxygen to fight, but I couldn’t stop chanting. Whatever grabbed hold of me wouldn’t let me.

“Silence, witch!” Sekhmet screamed.

A fleck of blue shot through the ...