by AE Watson
“I no longer want to eat you,” Clarabelle added with a laugh. It was still like little bells on the wind. “Are you ready to go back? The army is nearing the city. Soon Anamay and Altaros will know we are here.”
“I am.” I glanced up into Grayson’s eyes and felt it, lust. Comfort. But was it love?
He kissed my forehead once and handed me my swords. “I don’t know if you need these—”
“I always need these.” I strapped them on, noting the difference in these breeches from my others. The clothing was formfitting and snug, likely because it was magical.
I walked to climb on Artan but they offered me a look, almost laughing at me.
“You can fly,” Mani mocked me. “Why don’t we take a doorway. It’ll be faster and we haven’t a moment to spare.”
“I can fly?” I looked at my back. The flame wings were no longer there.
“Of course you can.” Mani rolled her eyes. “Now make a doorway.”
“You want me to make it? How?” I asked.
“Listen to your instincts. Trust them. Think of the thing you want and the magic in you will find a way to make it happen.”
I thought of the army and Master Lindley. “Take my hand,” I whispered, trusting the rush of knowledge my body suddenly had. “You coming too?” I asked Artan.
He grunted and jumped, lifting off and flying away, not trusting me or my portal. I tried not to take it personally.
Everyone else touched me and I concentrated. I saw the portal with my mind and stepped forward and we were there, on the hillside outside Herra. The city was right below and the army was marching to us.
“Oh my,” Mani said. “That was better than I thought it would be.”
“She is a mage, not a witch. The first one in a long time.” Clarabelle smirked. She knew things none of us would ever know.
Grayson winced. “I want to tell you to stay safe or fight next to me but I have a feeling it might be you needing to keep me safe.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said cheekily, surprising us both. Was I flirting? All the warnings of no longer being able to love or feel seemed unnecessary. His smile made my stomach tingle and the idea of climbing him like a tree still interested me. Maybe being a mage changed how magic impacted my emotions.
“Master Lindley!” I called out softly, using the wind to carry my voice the way Clarabelle did. “We are down here.”
The sound of the feet marching quickened as he called for them to hurry up.
When he reached us, the moon was no longer high in the sky and the hillside was much darker against the light of the city below us. His eyes widened when he saw me. “Your Grace.” He gasped. “What happened?”
“I’m ready for battle, Master Lindley.” I nodded at the city. “What are your orders? Whisper them to Clarabelle and she will put them into the minds of every soldier without shouting.”
He scowled but did as I asked. He was scared of her and she no doubt thought about eating him, but he did it. She whispered his orders, even into my head. I was to go with Mani and Clarabelle and find the inner sanctum where the dark coven would be performing their magic.
Grayson took my hand and squeezed, clearly his orders had been different than mine. “I’ll find you afterwards. Try to free as many collared as you can.”
“Okay.” I squeezed back before letting go and turning back to Master Lindley. “Keep each other safe. Artan will be here soon.”
He nodded, no longer insistent on staying by my side. A side effect of Clarabelle I imagined.
I took Mani and Clarabelle’s hands in mine and thought about the gatehouse I could see. I imagined the portal in my mind and we stepped in.
A guard turned, confused and alarmed. He shouted something in a tongue I didn’t know but he had no chance. Clarabelle devoured him as Mani opened the gates and put a charm on it, locking it in place. I hurried outside and jumped from the right gatehouse to the left, pulling my sword midair and stabbing it into the heart of the man who was about to raise the alarm.
We met on the ground, Clarabelle covered in blood and Mani making her fingers spark. I drew my second sword and the three of us entered the city. The streets, though lit with torches were fairly quiet. It was the middle of the night and most of Herra’s citizens were sleeping.
We hurried through the streets, Clarabelle ran at a frightening pace, hunting like an animal through the dim lighting. The odd scream met us in the shadows. Mani offered me a look suggesting she was a bit uncomfortable with Clarabelle’s hunger.
I nodded, aware though I no longer felt it.
The city of Herra was stunning, a white stone city of small structures that had an elegance to them that reminded me of Florents. Their proximity to one another made sense of that.
My ears were sharpened, listening for the witches, but it was the tingle in the air that drew Mani and I to the right when the main road forked. There was magic being done and the moment it reacted to me, I knew, they were aware of us being here.
“Run!” Mani shouted as she burst forward, sprinting along the street. I followed, unsure what she saw or felt until I saw it too. A wave of dust had been summoned from the barren lands outside the city walls. Mani spun and moved her hands quickly. Clarabelle rejoined us, bloody and rabid, in time to be part of the bubble Mani created. The sand blasted the walls of magic she held as the city all but vanished in the storm.
Clarabelle’s eyes were slits, flickering left and right, hunting still. Her senses were sharper than ours. The sand stopped and Clarabelle bolted right, jumping and taking a guard to the ground as he ran out of a building. I followed her, slashing and fighting my way through the crowds. They weren’t like the guards in the north. They fought the way I did. Trained in Degha. We danced and glided, swords spinning and slicing with efficiency. They didn’t wear the huge armor of Enderoth, but rather leathers like Grayson wore. It was light and flexible. They moved fluidly. But I had magic and moved faster than they did.
We cut our way through the small group of them and hurried forward. The palace came into view. A large white castle with rounded rooftops and turrets with balconies and red flags. We sprinted up the stairs but Mani stopped midway and turned. She focused on a small church left of the castle. It was shabby and unsuspecting.
Clarabelle and I followed her there.
“I’ll go clean the castle,” Clarabelle muttered as Mani pried open the wooden doors of the old cathedral. She vanished, leaving Mani and I to stare at each other for a moment.
“Ready?” she asked and stepped on a pearl, signaling to the coven to come here.
I nodded, gripping to the hilts of my blood coated swords. I didn’t know what to expect but the fire inside of me hinted that it didn’t matter what we faced, we could handle it.
She peeked into the opening, seeing nothing. “It’s empty. I’d wager it’ll be like the altar at the Black Keep. Underground and secret.”
“Should we wait for the others?” I asked, waiting for the wall to begin rumbling next to us as the witches carved a door, but they hadn’t come yet.
“Let’s take a look first.” She tried to step into the dark doorway but a light shot out from the shadows and hit her. She flew back, jerking and seizing as if she’d been struck by lightning and dropped to the ground.
“Mani!” I rushed to her side, taking her hand in mine. Her mouth parted to speak but her eyes fluttered and she went still.
Mani?” I dropped my swords and clung to her but there was nothing. “Mani!” I shouted, shaking her. I placed my ear to her lips, listening for breath. My fingers trembled as I tilted her head differently, trying to find a sign of life.
“Mani? Aunty?” My eyes flooded with tears as the realization she wasn’t just knocked out hit me.
“Make them pay,” her voice was a whisper but it did not come from her body. I turned, gasping when I saw her there. A reflection of herself. A ghost. She glowed with light and smiled peacefully. “It was a great honor to guide you, child. I l
ove you and I believe in you.” The light dimmed and she blew away like campfire smoke on the wind.
“No!” My voice cracked as my eyes flooded with tears. “Don’t leave me.” But she was gone. Her body was still in my arms one minute and the next I held nothing but a pile of flowers. White daisies that the breeze began to pull away from me. They glowed with a light normal flowers couldn’t contain. They reminded me of the blossoms in the elven forest.
“No,” I whispered, clinging to the blooms.
The wall next to me rumbled and a door opened.
“Mani!” Katy rushed forward, already sobbing. She had to have felt it. She picked up a flower from the pile and dropped to her knees, tears streaming her pale cheeks. “We were supposed to be little old ladies together.”
“I’ll kill them all.” My tears turned to fury. I stood, not bothering with the confused and devastated witches arriving through the magical doorway or whoever shot that deadly spell at my aunt.
Rage and something dark and ancient filled me. I picked up my swords and turned to face the church.
A growl slipped from my lips as I burst, flames shooting from me. I gripped my swords and walked to the entrance. I faced the darkness of the entryway and screamed. It was a banshee’s cry into the night, making chaos wherever the sound touched. The ground rumbled and lifted and the church doors blew off, taking the wall with them.
My foot steps were soft and quick as I entered, blowing the debris of ruin out of my way with the swipe of my hands.
A storm followed me, raging winds and fire and rain. Vines crept along the ground, seeking my targets.
I didn’t bother with the stairwell leading to the basement where Mani assumed the altar would be. I screamed again and stomped, destroying the floor and sending me and all the stone floor to the basement, crashing down on an antechamber of sorts. I dropped down hard, breaking the stone around me. Again, I swept the floor clean and made a path.
The other witches landed next to me, floating down delicately. Even Katy who still held the flower in her hand.
I raised my swords and fires lit all around me, leading us to a doorway that sparkled with the light of magic. I screamed again, ripping the wall off and sending it shooting back, hitting the magical forcefield around the witches chanting in a circle.
Anamay was there, dressed in all black and holding her hands to the sky she couldn’t see.
They didn’t notice me or the storm of debris and flames and wind.
I screamed again, tearing their forcefield to pieces. When the wind finally hit them they toppled, losing their focus.
Anamay continued chanting as shots of lightning and death began to fly.
They burned when they hit me but not one caused the damage intended. Flames shot from my back in wings and consumed my body, even my blades were coated in fire. I glowed orange and red.
Screams of terror began as I moved with speed and accuracy, entering the altar and slicing and burning as the light witches shot spells at the dark coven, until there was nothing left. Bodies and burnt flowers and leaves. The stench of decay and rot was everywhere.
Anamay stood alone at the top of the altar, her protective shield waning as elemental magic flew from me. Her chanting drained her life force. I kept hitting and hitting. The vines surrounded her, squeezing her barrier.
When she was vulnerable and unable to hold me back, she staggered, hitting the stone walls of the church’s basement, nearly collapsing with weakness. “What are you?” she screamed at me as rain began to pour down on us. The entire church was gone, nothing but a hole in the ground remained. I’d stripped the earth of this place.
I burned with hate and rage and a need for vengeance.
One that had consumed me.
“You killed my family,” I muttered. “For that you must die.”
She laughed as I swiped with my sword, slicing her head clean off. She was still smiling from the floor when I turned around and walked away before she turned to a pile of black roses. I’d asked no questions. Sought no answers. I cared not for her reasons.
They no longer mattered.
I finally understood I didn’t need the truth or the why or how, I needed only for this blood trail to end.
There was no quiet life in the country or small inn with Grayson on this path.
But there was peace.
Peace worth fighting for.
Worth dying for.
Chapter 29
We walked onto the battlefield from the air as I made one of the portals with my mind.
A coven of light witches and me, an assassin.
The sun was rising in the east, lighting the hills next to us and revealing the bodies.
I turned to the harbor to see Artan flying over ships, lighting them on fire as they shot cannons at him and arrows. But like me the weaponry bounced off his dragon hide.
All around us was chaos and death.
The last of the collared fought Grayson’s army.
Grayson was in the middle of it, full monster. His shirt was gone. His back bloody. And his fangs huge.
Men stopped fighting and looked at us, the group of women glowing with our own light.
“You can destroy those collars, Amillia,” Clarabelle whispered to me from somewhere. “They’re made with a magic you can destroy.”
I heard her and watched as everything slowed down.
My flames burned brighter as I walked toward the middle of the battle, making everyone pause and move out of my way.
I held my swords out, flames flickering along the thin blades. I stared up into the sky and let the fire burn me, consume me, and create a burst of red light. It shot from where I stood and spread across the field in a heartbeat.
The sound was deafening and followed by silence. Not a single person even dared to breathe. The collars began to fall and turn to sand. The bears and wolves shifted instantly back to men and women, sobbing and collapsing onto the dirt and rocks
Grayson walked to me, standing tall. His eyes were slits and his fangs still hung in his mouth when, still out of breath, he shouted, “You are free. Stop fighting.”
The armies, both sides, knelt. The men and women who were not Vulkodlak stood, as did the witches and me. But every single Vulkodlak on the field dropped to their knees.
“Is she dead?” Grayson asked.
“Anamay is, but my grandmother was nowhere to be found,” I said and stared around at the thousands dead and injured. “You need to start setting up places to treat these people and burn the bodies of the fallen.”
“Let us help with the healing,” Katy said.
“I’m going to the castle to find Clarabelle. She’s likely hiding from the sun as the rest of the fanged ones are.”
“They’re in the mines to the west of the city. I’ve freed most of them.” Grayson glanced at me as the flames died down. “That’s a good look.”
But I couldn’t joke. Not yet. Clarabelle was probably fighting my grandmother and Mani was dead.
I thought of the stairs to the castle and walked through my mind portal to them. I gripped my swords and took the stairs two at a time, hurrying inside.
The trail of dead guards led me to the throne room where Clarabelle sat with a boy in her lap. I recognized him right away. Anamay’s son. He was enchanted by Clarabelle.
“You all right?” I asked her as I wiped my swords off on a dead man’s clothes next to me and sheathed them.
“We’re fine,” she said, smiling with bloody lips at the small boy.
“Do you remember me?” I asked him.
“Princess Amillia,” he said with a smile. I could see Clarabelle’s effects in his eyes. I knew that look too well. “Did you kill my mother?” he asked flatly.
“Why do you ask that?”
“She was going to steal your dragon and your throne and kill you and your brothers. If you’re here then she must be dead.” His voice didn’t even crack.
“I’m so sorry,” I said though I wasn’t sorry she w
as dead. The statement had truth in it only because I had robbed him of his last living parent.
“Have you seen my grandmother?” I asked Clarabelle.
She shook her head slowly.
“She said she was going to see the king,” Anamay’s son offered, again emotionlessly.
Clarabelle’s eyes widened. “Go!” She shouted and I knew what I had to do. The wings shot from my back and without even a thought of my fear of heights, I leapt into the air, bursting through the glass windows in the ceiling. “Artan!” I screamed.
He was already flying for me. He caught me in his talons and I thought of the Black Keep. We were flying in Altaros one second and the next I imagined the portal and he placed me on the balcony of my bedroom. “Find Michael!” I shouted at him and ran inside.
My feet were through the door and running down the hall before I had a chance to process what was happening.
“Michael!” I screamed and ran for the stairs. I leapt down them as Artan passed by windows, peering in. I jumped down onto the landing below. A dead guard on the floor, a man with no color to his frightened face, was the first sign she’d been here.
I raced for the altar where Michael had said they found it. The smell of burning suggested I was going the right way. I sprinted, drawing my swords and crying out, “Michael!”
But no one answered.
I arrived at the scorched altar to find her there. I could just see her head behind all the rubble where she was sitting on the destroyed stain where her dark magic church had once gathered.
She wore a black dress as her coven mates had and held Michael’s limp body in her arms.
“No!” I rushed forward, my heart seizing in my chest.
She lifted her tear stained face, snarling at me. “It should have been you,” she sobbed.
“What have you done?”
“I didn’t do this, you did. You forced this on him.” She let him down and stood, her fingers sparking with red light the way Mani’s always did. “You were supposed to take the throne. He should have been safe in the wolf grove with Ed!”
“What are you talking about?” I didn’t even draw my swords. I knelt at my brother’s side, taking his cold hand in mine. He’d been dead for a while. “How could you do this?” I buried my face in his chest, still savoring some of the smell.
