He rubbed his face, looking tired and much older than his years. “I admit that the dark magic held a certain allure. It was an excitement I had never tasted, something rich, euphoric. It gave me power I never knew I had, but it came at a price—and whenever the bloodthorn asked for my assistance, I had no choice but to help him.”
“You helped him?” Heidel asked.
“I had no choice.”
“Yes you did,” his sister said. “You could have denied him at any time.”
“He would have killed me—he would have killed her!”
The princess shook her head. “Was it worth it? Was it worth it, now that our stone is gone? Was it worth betraying the trust of everyone who has helped us? Is it worth it now that I will lose my magic, and possibly my life?”
He couldn’t answer.
The princess turned to the witch. “I am ready.”
“Esmelda, please!” Terminus said. “I am sorry. I should not have done it.”
“You are right. You should never have done it. And now I must pay the price for your poor choices.”
The princess closed her eyes and exhaled a long sigh. Tears ran down her cheeks as the witch’s magic enveloped her.
I stood, watching helplessly. Was there nothing I could do to stop this? If I fought the witch and killed her… but my magic was not as strong as hers, and Fan’twar would not look kindly on the murder of one of his kind. Could I trick her somehow? There had to be a way to stop this. I’d come too far just to see the princess suffer, lose her magic—her essence—and possibly die.
Kull moved from the back of the group. The crowd parted as he marched forward, as if he held some power over everyone around him. His black-clad visage seemed to suck the light from the air. Even without magic, his presence struck fear into anyone who crossed him.
I didn’t envy the witch.
Kull unsheathed Bloodbane and stood between the witch and the fairy. He planted the sword’s tip in the ground, and the flow of magic between the two women stopped.
Silvestra looked with wide eyes at the Wult king.
“You shall not have her,” Kull said.
Whenever Kull spoke, it felt as if he could move mountains.
The witch drew back, fear clouding her eyes for half a second as she looked up at the dragon. “You said I could have what I wanted,” she shouted.
Fan’twar dipped his head, his golden eyes glowing as they reflected the sunlight. Somehow, I got the feeling he knew exactly what would happen and had planned for it.
“And so you shall. But choose wisely, Silvestra. Not all is as it seems. Is magic the payment you require? Or is there not something of greater value you desire?”
She searched his face, then turned back to Kull. With his hands resting atop the sword’s pommel, he stood tall, fearsome, and strikingly handsome. His gaze met mine for only a moment before he turned away.
The witch took a step toward him, scrutinizing him.
“I will have the king’s sword,” she said, “as the price of passage. I shall have the sword or nothing else. I am done with bargaining. He must give it freely and without hesitation, for this is the way the bargain must be struck.”
Alarm bells went off inside my head as magic intermingled with her words. I knew what sort of deal she was striking, and it wasn’t good.
“I will do what I must,” Kull said, kneeling. He held his sword reverently with his arms outstretched, the pommel resting on one hand and the blade atop the other hand, seamlessly balanced, an extension of himself.
A ray of sunlight, perfectly timed, descended upon Kull and the sword, gleaming over the polished metal and the golden strands of his hair.
True Kull. He was King Skullsplitter no more. The darkness had lifted, and now, with the sacrifice of his most treasured talisman, he had become the king he was meant to be—perhaps not the same ruler his father had been, but someone else, someone who inspired greatness.
The witch reached forward and lifted the sword from his hands, then backed away, clutching the blade as she retreated onto the bridge. Thick gray clouds spiraled overhead.
“I will allow only humankind into my lands. Dragons are forbidden. I care not what you trade, I will not allow another of my kind into my domain.”
Fan’twar only nodded.
Her gaze flicked to me. “The one you seek is nearly at the gate, but he will not enter until he has the magic he needs. If you wish to stop him, you must be prepared to pay the price—one that is far greater than what I have taken this day.”
When she reached the centermost point, the magical barrier flickered, and she stepped through it. Her body morphed. Arms elongated and extended into wings. Her neck stretched into a silver serpent’s neck, and scales covered her face as it, too, transformed.
The dragon clutched Kull’s sword to her chest as she took flight. Thunder cracked loud as she disappeared into the sky. We stood in stunned silence after she had gone.
“We must make haste to the mountain’s summit,” Kull said. “The creature has gained more ground than we suspected. We cannot be delayed any longer. Heidel, restrain the prince.”
“What?” Prince Terminus said. “Why? I have done nothing wrong.”
Fan’twar growled. “You have caused the near destruction of the entire fairy race. How can you say you have done nothing wrong?”
Heidel grabbed the prince’s wrists and tied them, although she kept the ropes loose enough in order for him to climb. Having spent time being bound, I didn’t envy him, yet letting him go free would be a huge mistake. I had trouble understanding his motivations for aiding the bloodthorn, but then again, I hadn’t been in his position. He’d lived his life in a fairy utopia, and perhaps the allure of something dark and different had blinded him to the danger it possessed. Whatever his reasons, I would never fully understand them.
We started across the bridge with a gunmetal gray sky looming over us, an ominous warning to the danger that lay ahead. Despite wanting to focus on the precarious bridge crossing, I could not keep the witch’s words from echoing in my mind.
You must be prepared to pay the price.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Patches of ice crunched under our feet as we climbed up Dragon Spine Mountain. The air grew thin, making breathing more difficult. The rocky terrain was challenging to traverse, and even the Wults, who were used to climbing, found the task harder than expected.
When we reached a flat outcropping, we stopped to catch our breath. I found a pair of snug leather gloves in my pack and put them on to get some relief from the cold.
“The summit is not far,” one of the elves said, pointing at the narrow trail that wound up the mountain.
“Aye,” Brodnik answered. “But it’s steeper than the trail we’ve been on. It won’t be an easy climb.”
I sat on a rock, chewing a mouthful of dried fruit as I scanned the rest of our group. Kull sat a distance away from me, his gaze a million miles away as he stared out over the precipice. We’d climbed so high that the clouds were now beneath us, stirring like an agitated soup about to reach their boiling point.
I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but he must have felt lost without Bloodbane. The sword was more than just a weapon—it was a family heirloom. What would Grandamere do when she found out he’d lost it? Still, I had to give the guy credit. I’d almost had to part with my magic box, and I wasn’t sure how well I would’ve handled it. Yet he seemed to be dealing with the loss of Bloodbane appropriately. After losing his girl, his father, and now his sword, I supposed he was becoming used to losing the things he loved. But this time, he’d given the sword willingly to help a greater cause.
No matter how much heartache he’d caused me, I had to admit he’d proven himself a worthy person—a worthy king—whether he realized it or not. His people needed a leader like him. He’d not merely given away his sword, he’d sacrificed a piece of himself so that others could live. I wasn’t sure how many people would be willing to make the same s
acrifice. In my eyes, he’d proven himself an honorable man.
We gathered our things after the meal and started up the trail. My feet grew numb with the cold, which I supposed I should have been grateful for as it helped mask the pain of the blisters forming.
The only one who spoke was Prince Terminus, who complained about his bound wrists. As the day wore on, even he grew quiet, leaving the sounds of our feet tromping over rocks and ice patches to break the silence. Several times, we scaled up one cliff only to traverse another.
The rocks were cold under my fingertips despite the gloves. The exertion, coupled with the thin air, made me lose my breath, and the sound of my own breathing was loud in my ears. Images of my couch back home kept plaguing me. What would I give to be curled up on the sofa under a soft blanket with a cup of hot cocoa in reach, Han in my lap and a book in my hand? I’d almost consider trading the mirror box for that one.
Going back home wouldn’t be so bad after all, I decided. In fact, I couldn’t wait.
Dusk descended, so the elves ignited their fey lanterns, lighting the world in an eerie blue glow. We scaled a cliff taller than all the rest, and as I pulled myself up and over the ledge, I noticed the others were huddled around something.
As I stepped closer, chills bristled my skin as the feel of dark magic caressed me. The group parted as I approached, and I focused on a cavern I’d seen before—the place where the bloodthorn had tried to make me take him when he’d held me captive in the forest.
I recoiled at the sight of the tall, gaping fissure, like a wound splitting the face of the mountain. Jagged rocks rimmed the edges of the opening, and fog slunk along the ground as it surrounded the cave. Approaching the entrance, I reached out with my magic and could sense Cyren’s blood ward blocking the entrance. Someone—most likely the bloodthorn—had recently used the fairies’ stone to pass through it.
Kull, Heidel, and Brodnik stood at the entrance. Brodnik began walking toward the cave’s mouth, but I stopped him.
“Don’t,” I said, “it’s protected with a blood ward.”
The elves also approached, as did the two fairies. Terminus looked with fear at the cave’s opening.
“What can you tell me of this place?” I asked him.
“Only that this is where the bloodthorn and spider beast first emerged. A portal exists inside this cavern, and without your help, the bloodthorn will not be able to use it to return to his realm.”
“Then how do we get past the ward?”
Terminus turned his gaze on me, his eyes dark under the light of the fey lanterns, making a shiver run down my spine. “We cannot. Only you can.”
“Me?”
He nodded.
“Your Earth and Faythander magics are unique. This is the reason the bloodthorn sought you. He killed the mortals to power the stone, but it’s all for nothing without your magic. He seeks you still, inside the cave. You must go to him if you wish to stop him.”
Kull spoke up. “But won’t he try to kill her?”
“Yes. Unless Olive destroys him first.”
“Is it possible? Can he die?”
“I do not know.”
“We killed the beast in the unicorn forest,” Heidel said, “so he must be capable of some sort of death. Olive, I don’t like this. It is clearly a trap, and I can only imagine what the monster will do to you once you find him.”
“She will not go,” Kull said. “We will find a way for us all to go, or we will not enter at all.”
The fairy princess spoke up. “But what of our stone?” she asked. “The creature cannot cross through the portal without Olive’s help, but that does not mean that he won’t send the stone through.”
“Is it possible for him to do such a thing?” Kull asked.
I mulled it over. “Yes. Portals operate with a basic set of principles—one of them being that sending non-organic objects through them is much easier than sending a person through. If the bloodthorn is intent on seeing the stone in his own world, then he may be desperate enough to send it through without actually crossing through the portal himself.”
“Would he do that?” one of the elves asked.
“Yes,” Terminus answered. “He used the unicorn stone as a power source for a machine in his world. I am not sure of the details, but he seeks to use the fairies’ stone as well.”
“A machine?” I asked.
Terminus nodded. “Yes. It is used as a power source, but I know nothing more than that.”
“And that is why he took our stones?” the princess asked. “To power a machine?”
I couldn’t mistake the hostility in her voice.
He didn’t meet his sister’s gaze. “Yes.”
“Whatever the case,” I said, “he cannot be allowed to take the stone from our world. I have to cross through the shield and stop him.”
Kull shook his head. His fisted hands looked empty without Bloodbane. “Olive, no. We will find another way.”
“Given time, perhaps we could find another way, but it will most likely be too late, and then we’ll have failed. I can’t live with that. I can’t live with myself knowing I had the chance to save the fairies and I didn’t take it. Living with regret is a hard thing to do.”
I knew my words would be difficult for him to hear, and I knew I hurt him when I said it, because the pain in his eyes was so intense I could no longer meet his gaze.
“I should go,” I whispered before turning to face the cave’s entrance.
A flurry of emotions welled inside me—hope, fear, confusion. What would I find once I entered the cave?
Magic prickled my skin as I walked through the shield. Kull said something as I stepped to the other side, but as I crossed, his words were too muffled to make out. I turned around to face the shield, expecting to see my companions on the opposite side, instead, I found only a glowing blue wall of magic.
I was alone.
With the light coming from the wall and crystals glowing along the path, the cave was better lit than I had expected. I walked with my hands curled into fists, my heart fluttering in my chest.
After escaping the bloodthorn in the forest, I’d sworn never to be imprisoned again, yet that was what I feared would happen once I found him. It couldn’t happen again. No matter how sporadic and unwieldy my magic had become, I called it to the surface, ready at a moment’s notice to be unleashed. I would not become his prisoner again.
He would never again have power over me.
The path sloped downward. I clenched and unclenched my hands as sweat beaded in my palms. Stay calm. Control your magic. He won’t have power over you again.
Reluctantly, I walked forward. The fear I experienced was so potent I found it hard to breathe.
I rounded a corner and entered an open chamber. The room wasn’t large, although a wall jutted out and obscured my view of the entire space. A portal glistened blue and silver, replacing the entire back wall. Bursts of light sparkled, casting light in shimmering waves like reflections in water. I’d never seen a portal as large as this one.
Entering the room, my footsteps echoed as I descended a set of broad, stone steps and then rounded the corner. The rest of the room came into view.
Officer Gardener knelt in the room, trembling, his officer’s uniform tattered and covered in mud and dried blood. His face was so pale I barely recognized him. Cuts mangled the officer’s body, some of them still oozing blood. The bloodthorn stood over him, a knife pressed to the officer’s throat. What had the bloodthorn done to the man?
“Stop,” the monster said, “and approach slowly.”
My heart pounding wildly, I took a cautious step forward. “What do you want with him?” I asked, nodding toward the officer.
“His life,” the beast answered, “in exchange for yours.”
Balling my fists, I felt my magic at the ready, almost overpowering me.
“Choose,” the bloodthorn said. “His life or yours. I’ve seen his mind. He will be missed by those he calls fam
ily. They love him still—they need him. Will you take him from them?”
“You would be the one to kill him, not me. His blood will not be on my hands.”
“Choose!” the bloodthorn said, his voice rising. “His life or yours?”
The bloodthorn’s knife tip pressed harder into Officer Gardener’s neck, breaking the skin. Officer Gardener winced. In his eyes, I saw desperation—his hope for a future with his ex-wife and daughter, his pain at having lost them, the love he had for them no matter what came between them. What would his death mean to his wife, to his daughter? He had people who cared and loved him, who depended on him. Who was I to take that life from them? Who did I have that would miss me? Did anyone need me the way his family needed him?
“Stop,” I said. “Don’t kill him.”
The bloodthorn’s inhuman eyes met mine. “You swear to give me your life?”
“Let him go first, then I will do what I must.”
My magic throbbed so intensely it hurt to keep it in. If I could only get Officer Gardener away from the bloodthorn, then maybe I would have a chance to attack the monster.
The bloodthorn pulled the fairies’ starstone from his cloak, its radiant red facets refracting the light from the portal, making glimmering beams dance around the room. He placed the stone on the floor beside his feet and then pulled a chain from his cloak.
Bile rose in my throat as I stared at the shimmering metal links.
“If I let him go, you will be under my power. Your life will be mine. Do you understand?”
I flexed my fingers. Sweat beaded on the back of my neck. How could this be happening again? Hadn’t I sworn never again to be imprisoned? But as I looked at Officer Gardener’s pleading eyes, I knew the choice had been taken from me.
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