“You will relinquish all the power you have sought for so long? You were meant to rule beside me, you fool.”
A bark of laughter escapes Sten’s lips. “Please stop this pretense. You can’t dupe me any longer. I know how it would be. You—the empress. Me”—he bows again, this time making it a grand, sweeping gesture—“your humble servant.”
“Which is what you are. What you always were. Did you think I would raise you to my level, you foolish boy? Did you imagine I would ever truly love you?”
“Once, perhaps. But not for some time. And I am finally, thankfully, quite happy about that.” Sten turns from Dulcia and strolls to the center of the terrace.
He stops and surveys our huddled group. “Now, these rather bothersome creatures—why not let them go? They are not likely to survive, at any rate, since they must make their way through the chaos of the troops battling below. Honestly, they’re an impediment, if we truly wish to come to terms over the mirror.”
He catches my eye and I know, in that instant, he’s trying to save us.
Erik grabs my hand. “I’m happy to leave, if you guarantee my friends will not be harmed.”
“Not by me.” Sten meets Erik’s stoic gaze with a sad smile. “Just take care of her,” he whispers.
The Lady Dulcia crosses to stand at Sten’s side. “I agree. I have no use for these children. They should be gone. I will even help. However, since you are so attached to the mirror, perhaps you should sit with it, my pet.” She flings Sten backward with one sweep of her hand. A gale-force wind catches and carries him into the drawing room. In an instant the glass doors close and lock and a thick plate of additional glass materializes over the entrance, trapping Sten inside.
Dulcia raises her arm again, as if brushing away an annoying insect.
Erik’s fingers are torn from my grasp. I shriek and reach for him, but he’s flung into the air to dangle like a poorly controlled marionette.
“Stop it!” I shout, as Dulcia flicks her wrist and sends Thyra and Kai sailing upward.
The sorceress does not acknowledge me. She turns on Sephia. “Now, Lady of the Roses, save your friends, if you can.”
Dulcia purses her lovely lips and blows a tiny puff of air. The puff grows into a gust that blows my three friends off the edge of the balustrade. They hang, helpless, above the long, deadly drop to the beach.
Sephia wheels about, spinning a web of vines with her hands. The vines encircle Erik, Thyra, and Kai, wrapping them together. Just as Lady Dulcia flicks her wrist once more, and my friends fall from the sky, Sephia whips the living net tight about them and casts it higher.
I scream, certain they will be dashed to death on the rocks, but Sephia whistles and leaps up, grabbing the end of the vine that ties off her green web. She spins in the air like a ballerina turning pirouettes, keeping the net, and our friends, aloft. Just when I think she must fall, dragging the net with her, a bulky form appears, pulling a sleigh.
Bae, the reindeer enchanted by Sephia’s former lover, Mael Voss. I stifle an exclamation, as my thoughts acknowledge the irony that the sorcery wielded by a mage who fell to the darkness may be what saves her, and the others.
Thank heavens, the others too. I fall to my knees. If they are all safe, I can endure anything.
The flying reindeer sweeps up under Sephia, allowing her to drop onto his back. She grips the web of vines and swings it into the sleigh. Bae sails away, pulling the sleigh carrying Thyra, Kai, and Erik behind him.
They are safe, at least for now. I bend my head over my hands and weep with relief.
“I see the enchantress of flowers has some uses. Now, child”—Dulcia pokes at me with her slippered foot—“what shall we do with you?”
I leap up to face her. “You should know I also possess magical abilities. I’m not powerless.”
Lady Dulcia makes a tutting noise. “Silly girl, if Sten Rask cannot stand against me, what do you think you can do?”
“Whatever I can, even if it kills me.” Cracks form in the glass imprisoning Sten. If I can hold out long enough ...
“That can be arranged.” Dulcia examines me, her eyes narrowed. “He did well, though. He made you into a pretty thing, a lovely toy.”
“I am no one’s plaything,” I say, as a large section of the glass shears off and falls from the castle doors.
Sten strides out, pointing the scepter at Lady Dulcia. She grabs my arm and faces him, a little smile playing about her lips.
The crystal finial glows blue, spitting sparks of fire. Sten raises the scepter as if to cast its power, but halts his motion when Dulcia holds me before her like a shield.
“Go ahead. Destroy me. Just know you will be incinerating your little ladylove as well.”
I create fire balls that fizzle in my hands as I struggle in her grip. “Do it,” I tell Sten. “Free yourself, and our world, from this evil.”
He lowers the scepter. “I cannot.”
“This is the sacrifice!” I shout at him.
Sten shakes his head “No, it is not. There is one I must make, but it is not this.” He rubs his hand over the crystal until its blazing light dims and fades. “There. It is a dead thing now. A simple walking stick.” He lays the scepter on the ground at his feet. As he lifts his head to face us, the anguish in his dark eyes makes me gasp. “Lady Dulcia, I will give you the mirror. I will even accompany you when you travel to whatever country you wish to torture next. I will do this, will promise to return to your service, if you allow me to call my winged messenger to carry Varna safely from this place.”
“Such a pretty scene.” The sorceress’s taunting voice fills my ears, almost blocking out the roar of the cannon fire from the battles below. “Really, Sten, do you think I would allow this creature to retain your transformation? Why—so if you escape again you can run back to her? I think not.”
Dulcia thrusts me away, tossing me to the flagstones. “Yes, she is quite lovely now. Also, I am sure, clever enough to grow into a powerful sorceress. But without those things, what is she? Simply a plain village girl with nothing to offer. That is all she really is. Everything else is your creation.”
I hear Sten’s shout right before a blast of power engulfs me. I scream and roll into a ball, clutching my knees. My entire body is wrapped in a blanket of fire—it burns as if the skin is being ripped away. My bones melt and twist like silver hammered on a forge.
Pain blinds me until all I see is white light, as if I have stared straight into the sun.
I am dying. Here on this terrace, at this castle, without friends or family beside me. This is where I die.
No. My fingers encounter damp moss. I slide my hands over flagstones and push up, raising my body from the ground. Lifting my head, I realize I am still on the terrace. The sounds of battle rage below the castle. Still alive.
“There,” says the Lady Dulcia. “There is your precious apprentice, reduced to her true form. Just as you found her.”
I sit up, banging my knee into something. The scepter. My fingers tighten around the object. It must have rolled in my direction when Dulcia blasted me.
“I will allow her to leave, unharmed, if you swear you will honor your earlier vow.”
“I swear,” Sten says.
His face is an unreadable mask. He crosses to me and whistles. Calling his great bird to take me away, while he remains, chained to his mentor by his vow.
Even worse, the mirror will fall into the hands of one who will use its tremendous power for evil.
I attempt to stand, but my legs are too weak. Sten bends down and places his hands under my arms and lifts me to my feet, my fingers still clutched about the scepter. He slides his hands to my waist, steadying me.
Dulcia laughs and points at me. “She is not such a prize now, is she? Come, my pet. She no longer matters. Instruct your bird to carry her off and drop her wherever you wish. We will flee this place with the mirror. I may have lost these lands, but there are many more we can conquer. You and I, so well ma
tched. We belong together. I am sure you see that now.”
Sten turns me with his hands until my face is pressed against his chest. “I see nothing of the kind. I will honor my vow. Yet know this, my lady”—his tone turns this title into an insult—“I choose Varna over you, even now. You think your beauty and power make you more desirable? You are much mistaken.” He tips up my chin with one finger, leans in, and kisses me.
Still steeped in passion, but a sweeter kiss than all the others. A kiss goodbye.
As he lifts his head, he whispers in my ear. “Take the scepter. Break the mirror. I will buy you time.”
I stare into his eyes. She will destroy you, I mouth, afraid to speak aloud.
“She will try.” He brushes my lips with a final kiss. “Smash the mirror, Varna.”
“Enough of this.” Anger vibrates Dulcia’s voice.
Sten pushes me away and steps forward to face his former mentor. “I will keep my vow to travel with you, but I will never again touch you. Not willingly.”
Her lovely face twists. She hisses like a cat. “You will crawl on your knees, begging for one kiss.”
“Never,” Sten says, and casts a river of fire around her.
She shrieks and draws the flames into a ball she throws back at him.
He holds up one palm and the orb of fire dissolves into smoke. He blows it in Dulcia’s direction. Before it reaches her, it coalesces into the shape of a snake, its mouth open to display fangs dripping with poison.
Lady Dulcia laughs and grabs the creature behind its glittering head. She throws it about her neck, transforming it into a scarf that mimics the colors of a peacock’s tail. In an instant it shimmers and dissipates.
Sten sends another blast of fire in her direction, which she swiftly deflects.
He cannot win this contest, but that is not his goal.
I run to the shattered doors that open into the drawing room. Dulcia, focused on her battle, her anger overwhelming all sense, does not notice me.
Once inside the drawing room I race to the mirror. Before I lift the scepter, I pause and consider my reflection. My beauty is gone, as my power must be too. But that does not matter, not now. I lift my head and stare at the two embattled sorcerers.
Smoke and flame fill the terrace. Sten has been forced to kneel before Lady Dulcia. She laughs. She thinks she has won.
Sten turns his head and my gaze locks with his. Using both hands, I raise the scepter over my head.
Dulcia stops laughing. She has seen me, but even for her, it is too late. The scepter swings through the air in an unavoidable arc of destruction. In an instant, it smashes into the mirror.
I close my eyes. An avalanche of sound fills my ears as glass flies in all directions. Miraculously, none hits me. Opening my eyes, I drop the scepter and turn toward the terrace.
Sten Rask laughs now. Even though Dulcia still holds him on his knees. Even though in her fury, she has drawn all the glass shards from the drawing room and raised a whirlwind of jagged fragments around him. They cut his hands and other exposed skin, but not his face.
Of course not. The sorceress doesn’t wish to disfigure him. Her revenge will be subtler. She will force him to honor his vow. She will make him her prisoner.
Her servant. Her slave.
I step onto the terrace. Before I can run to him, Sten lifts a hand and I’m engulfed in a rush of feathers. Talons close carefully about me and I’m lifted above the terrace, beyond the swirling glass, far from the battles raging around the castle. The last thing I see is a dark-haired man bowing at the feet of a small, raven-haired woman.
There is no final goodbye, only this image, burned into my mind.
Chapter Thirty-Two: Many Paths
CRADLED IN THE BIRD’S curved talons, I am carried from the castle and the battlefield. We fly into the clouds, the mist obliterating any view of the ground. I curl inward, hugging my knees to my chest, and rock back and forth.
I’m right where I started—plain Varna Lund, who holds no magic.
No, that’s not true. I am not the same person at all. I press my fingers to my lips, where I still feel Sten’s final kiss.
He made the sacrifice I demanded, yet I can do nothing for him. I know he understands; that it’s all part of the choice he made. But someday, somehow, I will help him. Even if we can never be together, even if I must live the rest of my life alone, I won’t allow him to suffer forever.
I am a healer. I must find a way.
We descend, brushing the tops of trees. The bird lands in a clearing and opens its talons, tumbling me onto the pine needles blanketing the ground.
I roll over and stare up into a circle of dark sky. The bird’s wings blot out the stars for a moment before the creature disappears from view.
A cool, wet nose bumps my arm. Luki. I sit up and stare into the wolf’s golden eyes. “Can you lead me to the others?”
He yips once and waits until I am on my feet before heading into the woods. I follow him to another clearing, where a group of people cluster around a blazing fire.
Luki bounds over to Thyra and Kai, who sit beside each another on a fallen log. Gerda and Anders are nestled together on a blanket spread over the ground, while Erik leans against a pine tree.
Gerda’s the first to reach me. “Varna!” She hugs me tight. “I was so worried, especially when the others returned without you. Yet here you are, safe and sound.” She releases me and looks me over. “He changed you back?”
“No, the Lady Dulcia did.” I turn to the others, spreading my arms wide. “She let me go, at Sten Rask’s request. After he sacrificed his freedom for mine.” I take a deep breath. “And after she stripped me of any power or beauty.”
“No.” Erik walks forward “She did not take anything from you, Varna. Nothing that matters, anyway.” He pulls me close and kisses me.
Amid the claps and whistles, I clearly hear Anders say, “It’s about time.”
I SIT NEXT TO ERIK and listen to tales of espionage and escape from the others, including the good news that Thyra’s contact has secured pardons for Erik and Anders.
“They have aided our country, even out of uniform,” Thyra says, “so it wasn’t difficult.”
I look up into Erik’s smiling face. “So you can go home.”
He tightens the arm he’s draped over my shoulders. “Sooner or later, anyway. Anders is more excited than me, since he has a partnership with his old master waiting for him. My older brother’s set to inherit the shop, so I have less to look forward to.”
“You would own the shoemaking business?” I ask Anders.
“Yes. Co-owner for now, but my mentor has no children. Before I enlisted he told me he would eventually bequeath the shop to me, if I returned after the war.” Anders pulls Gerda a little closer. “So I will have a decent livelihood, for myself and a family.”
“Ah-hah.” I look at Gerda, who has lowered her lashes so I can’t read her eyes. “Are you thinking of starting this family with my sister, Anders Nygaard?”
Anders’s face flushes to match the fire. “Not until I marry her, of course.”
“That’s a good plan.” I wink at Gerda. “I’m sure Mother will approve, although she’ll be distressed to lose her mill manager.”
“Well, about that ... ” Erik scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “I wonder if I might be considered for that position.”
“You want to manage the mill?”
“I would like to give it a try. I thought perhaps you could put in a good word?”
“I will, but you’d better ask Kai as well.”
Kai waves his hand. “I’ve already said yes. It would be a relief, really. Thyra and I plan to return to the University, although we need a new place to stay. I don’t believe my landlady will allow a married couple to rent her garret.”
“It would difficult to explain a wolf, as well.” Thyra pats Luki’s head.
Kai grins at her. “Yes, and there is that.”
I tap Erik’s
knee. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t give you a chance. At least on a trial basis,” I add, wrinkling my nose at him. “Allow you time to prove yourself.”
He grunts. “See, nothing has changed. Same practical Varna.”
Everyone laughs and I join in, although my mind is elsewhere.
Things have changed. I have changed. I glance up at Erik’s merry face and wish this was not true, but I must be honest, if only with myself.
You love him, but feel no burning desire. And when he kisses you, memories of other kisses cloud your mind. What will you do about this, Varna? What does your heart truly desire?
“If you will excuse me,” I slip out from under Erik’s arm and rise to my feet, “I must disappear for a moment or two.”
“Stay close,” he says. “There are still troops milling about, even if the Usurper’s armies have withdrawn.”
I nod and smile and walk into one stand of trees surrounding the clearing. I don’t actually need to relieve myself. I just need a moment to think.
A rustle in the undergrowth—I pause and prepare to run. Then I see who it is.
“Hello, Varna,” Sephia says. “I hoped to find you alone, sooner or later. I thought you might need to talk”
“I do. How did you know?”
She smiles. “Oh, I can sense these things.”
We walk in silence for a minute before I can muster the courage to ask the question on my mind. “You know how I feel?”
“I do.” She takes hold of my hand. “You care deeply for Erik.”
“Yes, although more like a dear friend. But really, that should be enough. It’s more than many girls can expect. He’s good man, and kind, and will make a great mill manager, and if we were to marry, everyone, even my mother, would be thrilled. And he is even handsome, and I like being around him, but ...”
“But you love someone else.”
I stop walking. “Yes.”
“And you are not certain what you want to do about that.”
I lower my head. “I understand what I should do, what is probably best. I know what makes sense, and yet I feel ... conflicted.”
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