I wish there was something I could say to ease his suffering. But I don’t have words for my friend crouching on the stairs, looking like he’s about to be sick. Because I failed him. Maybe Valoria did, too. From the sound of things, a lot of us did. I should have spent more time with him. I should have—
“Hadrien,” Karston says sharply, interrupting my thoughts. I wonder if he’s yelling at the other voice in his head. But as his eyes begin to shift from violet to brown, I realize it’s a warning and raise my blade.
XXX
Holding his short sword carefully, Karston staggers to his feet.
I hesitate. What if there’s some other way to get Hadrien’s spirit out of him, one that won’t kill him?
Karston blinks, pressing his mouth into a grimace, and when he refocuses his gaze on me, his eyes are violet again. “He’s too strong,” he murmurs as sweat drips from his forehead. “He has too much control now. I can’t fight him anymore, but I have one last thing to try.” He gives me a shaky smile. “Odessa, if this doesn’t work, promise me you’ll save the kingdom. Again.”
“Karston, what—? No!” I shout as he quickly turns the blade on himself and shoves it through his chest. Other shouts join mine, almost drowning out the sound of Karston gasping at the impact, at the pain. He sinks to his knees. “His . . . hatred has no place here,” he grits out, the last words soft as a breath.
The most striking eyes I’ve ever seen quickly close.
I rush up the few stairs between us, kneeling at his side as his head falls forward and blood gushes from around the wound. I call for a healer, for Danial. He hurries to join us on the narrow staircase.
Right behind him comes Jax, somehow making room for himself between me and Danial. “Don’t do this. Don’t go. I’m sorry I was such a jerk,” he says, gripping Karston’s shoulders as if trying to shake him awake. “I just . . . you’re a fighter.” He swallows, gazing into Karston’s now-peaceful face. “You’re me.” He shakes his head, his eyes shining, unable to say more. But I know what he means. The person Jax is hardest on is himself.
“Hang on, Karston,” I choke out, grabbing his broad, warm hand. “We can fix this. We’ll find a way to send Hadrien back to the Deadlands without hurting you.”
Danial gently nudges me in the ribs, shaking his head. “There’s nothing I can do.”
Karston is gone.
For a moment, I can’t hear anything but the sound of my heart beating, cruelly reminding me that Karston’s isn’t anymore. I sink against Jax, who crumples against me at almost the same time. Howling with grief, we cling to each other.
Even knowing that Karston must have taken Hadrien with him doesn’t make me feel any better. Another friend is missing from our world now, and there’s an army mere hours away that will take full advantage of our weakness. Worse, we’re standing in a room full of powerful figures with spirits inside them, spirits who seem to still be awaiting orders—for now.
All the time and effort we put into the metal soldiers, and we were creating a weapon for the enemy all along.
All Karston’s efforts to help his kingdom were turned against him, thanks to Hadrien.
“It’s my fault,” Valoria says darkly. “I should have been paying closer attention to the students. Besides, I banned raising the dead, and—”
Karston’s head snaps up. His hands grip the sword hilt and begin to slowly draw it from his chest as his rich brown eyes survey the dungeon.
Hadrien casually drops the sword. He smiles as Danial, Jax, and I stagger back, nearly falling down the remaining stairs in our haste to retreat. Karston’s body dying should have meant Hadrien’s spirit leaving, too, just like when we would run a blade through a person’s body to send their spirit back to the Deadlands.
But this is unfamiliar magic. Dangerous magic.
Already, the blood is drying on Karston’s necromancer’s uniform. And though the wound in his chest still gapes, it doesn’t seem to be slowing his body down in the slightest with Hadrien pulling the strings from inside.
He leaps over the stairs, soaring past us as Danial, Jax, and I try to stop him with our blades. He bumps into a stunned Valoria, knocking the crown from her head, and hurries into the embrace of his metal soldiers—those spirits from the Deadlands apparently loyal to him. They close ranks around him, shielding him from view.
“Go,” he booms out from behind his wall of iron. “Flee. I’m not stopping you. In fact, you’ve all become so boring and pathetic, I’ll give you a head start before my army gets to work. Sound like fun?”
Already, Danial and Jax are ushering Valoria up the stairs still slick with Karston’s blood. Her crown rests on the floor near one of the metal soldiers’ feet, apparently forgotten.
We can’t fight Hadrien’s iron army. Not with our hands. Not with our weapons. Not with fire. I’ve experienced what it’s like to fight the metal soldiers firsthand, back when I thought Karston was in control of their every move, and even that would have proven fatal had he really wanted to hurt me. They’re too strong.
Much as I want to stand my ground and stab things, our only chance for survival right now—our only chance to save Valoria—is to flee as fast and far as we can.
“There’s nowhere in Karthia you can run,” he calls after them, as if sensing my thoughts. “Whatever you do, however far you go, it won’t matter. The kingdom is finally mine again.” A few of the soldiers shift creakily at that, as if in protest, and he hastily adds, “Ours. Karthia is ours. You tried to banish the Dead, Valoria, but we’re here to take this world back! This is our rightful home, and now it’s you who will have to suffer a dull eternity in the Deadlands. Death to the living!”
The soldiers applaud stiffly before beginning to march forward. Lysander leaps between them and us, and though he’s trembling all the while, he guards our backs as I grab Meredy’s hand and we race up the stairs together.
“Lysander!” she screams, turning back to check on him as I try to keep her moving after the others.
The grizzly bounds up the stairs close behind us as another light, metallic sound begins to fill the dungeon. But the soldiers aren’t following us, I realize as the eerie sounds of their movements pursue us. They’re collecting their spears, preparing to march.
We tear through the palace, alerting everyone we can along the way, and finally emerge into a cold, misty night.
In the gardens, I listen for the clanking sounds of Hadrien’s soldiers and try to catch my breath as Valoria explains what just happened to the remains of our volunteer army, those who gathered here and have been waiting since sunset on her orders.
Someone produces a lantern—Danial.
As he raises it toward the sky, shining light across our faces and the cliffs, I glance warily at the horizon. There aren’t any ships cutting through the night yet, but there will be soon. I hope Hadrien won’t have as easy a time dealing with them as he seems to anticipate. That would buy everyone in the city a chance to escape.
Jax whistles, getting everyone’s attention so Valoria can address the group. She has to shout to be heard over the sounds of terrified nobles in their robes and dressing gowns fleeing down the hillside, shrieking about metal monsters.
“We need to get to the school,” Valoria says quickly.
“Majesty, you need to go to the harbor. Get on the Paradise, and get out of Karthia,” Danial says, his voice low and urgent.
Valoria shakes her head. “I’ll go, but only after we fetch the students. They have to come with us. They’re Karthia’s future as much as I am.”
“Fine,” Danial agrees. “I’ll raise the alarm in the city and meet you at the Paradise after.” He stands tall despite having barely recovered from all the healing he did, despite the screams now issuing from the palace windows. Apparently not everyone heeded our warning when we fled the palace. Casting his gaze over the volunteers, he asks, “Who
’s with me?”
Almost all the new soldiers, young and old alike, follow him down the hill, toward the city. I can’t help but wonder if and when we’ll see them again as their retreating figures grow smaller.
“I’ll head to the rookery,” one of the remaining volunteers offers, her expression grim. I think she was a friend of Bryn’s and Sarika’s. “Someone has to warn the other provinces.”
“You’ll never make it out of there,” I say quickly. “You heard what they want—that death to the living nonsense.”
“But someone has to do it,” she insists. “I’ll send as many messages as I can before they reach me.”
I shake my head, looking to Valoria, expecting her to talk some sense into this brave girl. But Valoria merely bows to the guard, then embraces her. As they pull apart, and the girl dashes back into the palace, the crownless queen echoes softly, “Someone has to do it.”
The few remaining guards accompany Valoria, her little sister Ruthie, Jax, Meredy, and me as we begin the brief journey to the temple. Lysander brings up the rear.
There’s no time to wrap our faces against the wind that spreads the black fever.
Hoping for the best, we run, chased by the sounds of the metal soldiers streaming out of the palace and making their way toward the city. Following the path of Danial and his army. I hope Hadrien’s soldiers can’t run as fast as real people.
But as we near the temple, distant screams tell me everything I need to know, and everything I feared: Hadrien’s army caught up with Danial’s. And once he’s done with them, no doubt, he’ll use his soldiers to murder the living in their beds. Not because he wants to convince them of anything this time, but because he’s grown even more twisted in the Deadlands.
I don’t know what I’ll tell Simeon when I see him.
Valoria leads the way inside the temple, flinging open the door to find Simeon and Nipper in the library with a few of the students, all pulling on cloaks as if preparing to leave.
The moment she spots me, the dragon bounds over and wraps herself happily around my legs. I pat her head absently as I listen to Simeon.
“We heard the screams,” he says by way of greeting, glancing from face to face. “We figured it was bad.” Softly—almost unconcernedly, someone might say if they didn’t know Simeon—he adds, “I see Danial’s off doing something stupid.”
Valoria quickly explains everything that happened at the palace, and the students’ eyes grow wide with shock.
“Where’s Zee? And the captain?” a dark-haired girl only as tall as my waist asks Simeon. She glances around the shadowy library, illuminated on this cloudy night only by the dying fire in the great hearth, her eyes shimmering with worry.
Despite all that’s happening, my heart gives a leap. Captain. Kasmira must be here.
“Coming!” Azelie’s voice bounces down the hallway. She sounds slightly out of breath. She appears a moment later, several vials and notebooks in her hands, followed by—
“Kasmira!” I shout.
Heedless of the black fever, I meet her partway down a hall leading off the library and rush into her open arms. She chuckles softly as she embraces me, clearly not yet aware of the extent of the danger—and to my amazement, there’s not a hint of strain in her breathing.
“So you finally conquered the fever,” I say, drawing back to see that her gray eyes are as clear and alert as ever.
“Only thanks to my friend here,” Kasmira says, nodding to Azelie. “I’m cured.”
Azelie lifts her chin proudly as she holds up the vials and notebooks. “I was able to recreate Hadrien’s research on a cure for the fever. It was a lot of work—a lot—since I could only find a few scraps of his notes that weren’t destroyed. Still, it was enough. I would’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up until it was ready to test.”
For a moment, all I can do is stare, amazed by the power Azelie holds in her hands: an end to so much death and agony. A cure for the black fever. Finally. I’m so grateful for all she’s done for Karthia in her short time living here.
The three of us hurry to rejoin the others in the library, only to find them all standing by the doors, tense but ready to leave. Simeon and Jax hold some of the youngest students’ hands.
“We’ll take the Paradise, of course,” Kasmira says. “We’ll fit as many people as we can . . .” Her voice trails away as she scans the faces gathered by the doors. “Wait. Where’s Elibeth?” she demands.
“Danial and the others will warn her when they reach Noble Park,” Valoria explains.
“That’s right,” Jax says brusquely. “Now, we need to get the queen out of here—”
“Danial and the others might not make it to warn anyone,” I interrupt, unable to look at Simeon as I say it. “They were being attacked by Hadrien’s army, last we heard.”
“You’re right. I have to go to her. I have to make sure she’s safe,” Meredy says softly. Meeting my gaze, she adds, “She’s the only family I’ve got left. I’ll meet you all at the ship, if I’m able, but don’t wait for me.” She closes the distance between us, and the others step back slightly to give us room.
“I don’t like it, but . . . I understand,” I murmur. “At least let me come with you,” I add, though I see the answer in her gaze before I’ve even finished speaking.
Meredy shakes her head, her eyes shimmering slightly. “There’s no guarantee I’ll make it back. And besides, Valoria needs you.” She pushes a finger against the sapphire pin on my chest. “Trouble with the Dead has your name all over it, Master Necromancer. I know it seems impossible right now, but you’ll figure this out. You always do.”
“I could still come,” I press, even knowing she’s right. “You can’t stop me.”
“Of course not,” she agrees, leaning closer, our lips almost touching. “But you’ll do the right thing—getting our queen as far from here as you can—no matter how much you grumble about it. That’s part of why I love you.”
“I hate this so much,” I whisper as her face begins to blur.
“I know,” she murmurs against my mouth. “But we’ve survived worse.”
She kisses me, long and slow. Usually, her kiss tastes like strawberries, but this time there’s nothing lingering on my tongue but the ashen aftertaste of a goodbye.
“I’ll be safe. I have Lysander,” she says as we draw apart.
In the absence of her touch, I struggle for breath. The ending in that kiss hit me like a blow to the stomach.
“Protect our queen, love. Protect our friends. And the cure.” She gives me one final embrace before climbing atop Lysander’s back. He sometimes grumbles about being treated like a horse, but today, he seems to understand the gravity of the situation and accepts his rider without so much as a growl. “See you on the ship!” she calls over her shoulder as Lysander dashes out the temple doors.
Simeon grabs my hand, and I hold on tightly. Both our hearts are in other parts of the city now, out of our bodies, out of our protection, and out of our control.
With everyone else ready to leave at last, our small group of soldiers and mages—and one dragon—charges into the night, leaving behind the shelter of their new home.
There’s nowhere in Karthia you can run, Hadrien said.
So we flee to the harbor. To the sea.
XXXI
With only occasional moonlight to guide us when there’s a break in the clouds—a lantern would attract too much unwanted attention—it’s easy to pretend that the dark forms slumped on the ground here and there are just shadows. Not people.
But we can’t ignore or imagine away the screams as we run through the mists of the Ashes toward the harbor.
Despite the late hour, the whole city is awake and terrified. People hurry by us in every direction, some carrying belongings, others clutching small children, all fleeing Hadrien’s
army as it marches through the streets. All around us, metal soldiers lash out with their spears, spreading chaos and destruction as they stab anyone unlucky enough to stumble across them. Sometimes, they use their hands to snap a neck or toss someone out of their way.
Fury at Hadrien tries to claw its way out of my chest as a metal soldier breaks down the door of a darkened shop and saunters inside, carelessly scattering glass. A woman, who must have been hiding there, cries out and is quickly silenced.
The spirits inside those iron bodies, the ones doing the killing, are no better than Shades. They’re just as violent. Just as senseless. I suppose listening to Hadrien long enough would be enough to turn anyone’s mind into something almost as twisted as his.
A crash draws my gaze straight ahead. Two metal soldiers have toppled a clothing stall in our path, forcing us to change direction as they march toward us.
Valoria gasps and Jax curses, shielding her, as we nearly collide with a group of frightened-looking women in charcoal-gray habits. It’s the Sisters of Cloud, the nuns who maintain the temples of Vaia’s gray-eyed face. We follow them through a gap between two dark, seemingly deserted buildings. The one on our right, I realize after a brief glance, is the tailor’s shop where Karston and I found a gate for our trip to the Deadlands.
Simeon trips over a piece of a shattered door that’s been wrenched from a shop and thrown into the street. Still holding my hand, he nearly pulls me down with him. We stumble for a moment, then quicken our pace to catch up to the others.
There are more hazards like the broken door in our way—chunks of glass, pieces of wood, dropped belongings.
Grenwyr City hadn’t even begun to rebuild in the wake of its last battle against Hadrien. I have a feeling it will take even longer before recovery begins now, with hopes and funds already so low.
Song of the Dead Page 32
