Atticus was pouring every ounce of power he had into the destruction spell, but still nothing was happening. The soul fragment was still completely intact, without even the slightest hint of change. Even the power used to annihilate the sinning cities of the Old Testament was not enough to make even so much as a dent in the slightest power of God.
"Bentley..." With a frustrated sigh, Atticus opened his eyes again.
Bentley was still standing in front of him, but something about her had changed. Even though he called her, she hadn't looked up. Inhaling sharply, Atticus noticed trickles of blood starting to run down from the end of her nose. The hands that were holding onto his so tightly were shaking ever so slightly, trembling beneath the pressure of the spell. —Oh, this was not good.
"Bentley!" He shouted, so loud in the silence of the spell that his own voice was deafening to his ears.