The Rise of Fortune and Fury

by Sawyer Bennett

  Rune roars with fury and demands, “Let me out of here.”

  I try to stand, but I’m dizzy, and it’s not from having been knocked around a few times. The amount of power and vengeful emotion radiating from the gods is disorienting. But then hands are under my arms and Carrick lifts me, eventually supporting me with an arm around my waist. He pulls me backward several feet away from The Council as they face off.

  “You didn’t think you could keep your perfidy from us, did you?” Cato asks with fury, and a booming rumble of thunder is heard in the distance.

  Rune sneers through the golden trappings of his cage. “No, but I’d hoped you wouldn’t find out until the ritual was complete. Unfortunately, I saw sweet little Finley all by her lonesome. No one calls me a coward or mocks my pain without suffering for it.”

  I tip my head up to Carrick, astonished that this god—this powerful deity—has an ego as fragile as an egg. Simply my words from this afternoon caused him to do this?

  Carrick just shakes his head in disbelief, and we turn our attention back to the four gods who stand in judgment of their brethren.

  “You were not to interfere,” Onyx condemns in an ominous tone. “You were not to take sides. You did both.”

  “So slap my wrist and get it over with,” Rune drawls with a lopsided smile. “No harm has been done. Finley is fine, and she can still participate in thwarting the prophecy.”

  “No harm done?” Veda asks, her voice soft with admonishment. “You broke the very foundation of The Council and how we operate. You let your personal feelings betray the trust we had in you, and that cannot be forgiven.”

  For the first time, Rune’s expression becomes alarmed. He opens his mouth, probably to mount a more sincere defense, but, in a flash of blinding light that has both Carrick and me jerking backward, the gods disappear.

  I glance around, not really expecting to see them anywhere else. I know what Carrick knows. They’ve taken Rune somewhere else to deal with him, in whatever fashion that might be.

  “We need to go,” Carrick says, pulling me out of that surreal experience and catapulting me right back to our mission.

  Except now, the fear that had frozen me is gone. As I stood on the edge of the field and watched the battle rage, I had succumbed to my doubts.

  But something important just happened when the gods stepped in to keep Rune in check. I had thought they were all above the law and truly didn’t care about humanity. They just proved to me, however, that I cannot give up.

  In fact, perhaps I need to assume victory will be resounding.

  “Let’s go,” I agree, and Carrick and I race back onto the ritual field.

  The entire thing with Rune took no more than a few minutes, but, in that time frame, things had changed. It seemed more of our side was dying in bursts of sparkles or puffs of black ash.

  More importantly, the dust has settled around the collapsed pedestal and Kymaris gleefully watches as Maddox battles what has to be at least ten Dark Fae. The stone laying against her chest is pulsing in red flashes.

  Nimeyah is still glowing, but the blue has turned to white. It’s so bright I can barely make out her form. Kymaris walks through the battlefield, eyes on Nimeyah, who has coalesced all the ritual power into her body.

  Kymaris’ eyes shine with malice and victory. When she’s ten feet from Nimeyah, she thrusts her arms toward her angelic sister from long ago and makes a pulling motion.

  The light in Nimeyah pulses a few times, then draws inward into her body. It seems to completely disappear until there’s only a thin white glow around Nimeyah’s body. For a moment, the two sisters—one light, one dark, neither good at all—just stare at each other.

  Then light shoots out of Nimeyah’s chest, along with an anguished scream that’s wrenched from her. The light flies straight at the Blood Stone and enters it, turning it momentarily white.

  It lasts but mere seconds, the transfer of the power from Nimeyah to Kymaris, but when the last bit of glowing magic leaves Nimeyah’s body, she bursts apart in a showering fall of white sparks, which signifies her death.

  It’s enough to break Deandra and Pyke apart as they stare at the remnants of their mother floating to the ground. Their expressions are blank, as if they can’t quite understand that Nimeyah’s demise was necessary for Kymaris to complete the ritual.

  Then Deandra’s eyes flash red and her lips pull back into a feral sneer as she whirls on her brother. She says something I’m too far away to hear above the din of battle, but she attacks with a speed and vengeance I never imagined was possible.

  Relentlessly she beats him back. The only thing he can do is to get his sword up time and time again to prevent her lopping off his head.

  Pyke stumbles over a rock, landing hard on his ass, and it’s enough of an advantage that Deandra brings the point of her sword to his chest.

  He attempts no magic. Doesn’t even try to knock the sword away. Instead, he twists his neck to look up at his love, Kymaris standing just a few feet away. I can read his lips as he pleas for the help of the woman he sacrificed everything for.

  Kill her.

  Kymaris stares at Pyke, a calculating look in her eyes.

  Rather than smite Deandra as he requests, she turns her back on the scene and strolls away.

  Pyke screams, and I do hear him above the battle this time. “N-o-o-o-o-o!”

  It’s cut short when Deandra rams her sword through his chest, obliterating his heart with the iron. He’s a royal, though, and he’s not quick to die. Instead, he wraps his hands around the sword blade, desperately trying to pull it out before the iron can destroy his heart. Deandra leans her weight into it, holding it in place.

  The siblings stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, but, eventually, Pyke follows his mother into oblivion—in a burst of white sparks that float away on the wind. I know I’ll never forget the look of pain and betrayal on his face when Kymaris walked away.

  It was no less than he deserved, and I’ll actually cherish it.

  Deandra doesn’t even watch the last spark burn out, but pivots on her heel and jumps into the battle by charging at a Dark Fae.

  My attention is grabbed by Carrick, his hand taking mine. “Let’s end this now.”

  Our eyes meet, and I can do nothing but nod. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

  Holding tight to my hand, Carrick bends distance and flashes us to Maddox first. He lets me go to step in and help his brother, who had easily dispatched half of the Dark Fae in the time it took us to get there.

  I keep my eye on Kymaris, though, whose hand has tightened around the Blood Stone. She closes her eyes with a rapturous expression.

  As if she’s bonding with the damn thing in a weirdly intimate moment.

  When her eyes open, they seem to be staring blankly ahead and I wonder if she has fallen into a trance. Perhaps I should take her on right now while she’s distracted.

  But then my heart sinks as I see the air before her start to ripple. It shimmers, warbles, and pulses.

  And then a rip slices down the middle as our world peels back on each side until I can see the Underworld.

  Kymaris ripped the veil at The Pit, and the glow from the fires casts her body in orange. I see beyond The Pit to the stone mountain of cages I had seen when I had traveled there, and my stomach bottoms out as I note that all the cage doors are open.

  Her demons are loose.

  “Carrick,” I call out, not taking my eyes off the tear in the veil. When the first demon slithers through, I scream with all my might. “Carrick!”

  The demons are not what I thought they’d look like. I had expected big brutish beasts with tusks, slobber, warts, and weapons. Instead, they’re sleek, small, and run on four legs with sharply clawed paws. Their skin is smooth and black as pitch with an oily sheen to them. They have spindly tails that whip back and forth over their backs. Their heads have a long snout with razor-sharp teeth and their eyes are white, making them appear blind, though
I know they’re not.

  Though they may be small, they are utterly terrifying.

  The first few come through, looking unsure as they swivel their heads left and right and raise their noses to the air.

  It’s the scent of blood that gets them riled. As if they are pre-programmed to know who to attack, they take off in loping runs toward our forces. With powerful hind legs, they jump on the backs of our allies, sinking their jaws into flesh and bone. While they cannot kill the daemons and fae fighting on our side, they provide a horrible distraction.

  I watch as four demons attack a Brevalian from behind as he battles three daemons. They easily drag him to the ground, ripping at his wings and stomach while the daemons manage to plunge a spear through his chest. The Brevalian explodes into sparks, and I’m glad his death was quick.

  Something blows by me, two blurry flashes, and I can tell it’s Carrick and Maddox. They both flash to Kymaris, but she whirls on them before they reach her. With a swipe of her hand, she manages to backhand Maddox and he goes flying.

  When Carrick reaches her, she throws a blast of sparkling red magic at him, which drops him to his knees.

  I don’t hesitate. I pull my lariat out, thankful for some quick training by Carrick, my prior life as a cattlewoman, and a healthy dose of my magic now freed from Rune’s clutches, and I throw it at Kymaris. It sails gracefully through the air and lands right over her head. When I yank hard, the loop closes and the rope strangling her neck is the first indication to her that I’ve joined the fight.

  She whips around, one hand on the length of rope that is now held between the two of us, and attempts to pull it free.

  But I hold tight, and the mere fact that she doesn’t manage to free herself immediately tells me the magic within it has indeed dampened her powers a tiny bit.

  I use the distance between us—a mere ten feet—to my advantage, and, in quick succession, pull and throw four knives from my holster.

  She doesn’t block a single one, and they all embed in her stomach.

  Kymaris doesn’t even flinch, instead thrusting her free hand toward me. A bolt of power hits me and causes so much pain, I can’t even scream. I go stumbling backward several feet and fall to my knees. It feels like my chest is collapsing in on my lungs, and I claw at myself to try to pull away the invisible magic.

  Vaguely, I see Carrick and Maddox now battling Kymaris. The lariat is gone and she’s at full force, but the two demi-gods are keeping her off balance with a coordinated attack of magic and weapons, their bodies moving so fast, I can’t really follow the action.

  I call on my light magic to repel away whatever it was that Kymaris hit me with. Just as my lungs loosen and I suck in a deep breath, I get knocked forward by something hitting me in the back.

  My face hits the dirt as sharp teeth sink into my shoulder.

  There’s a demon on me.

  I call forth a well of magic but before I can let it loose, the demon is knocked clear off me with a sharp yip of pain.

  I turn over to stare in astonishment at my savior.

  Zora stands tall and proud, glowing with magic.

  “You did it,” I exclaim breathlessly. She tapped into her powers to save me.

  She bends at the waist, a grim smile in place. Offering her hand, she mutters, “I couldn’t have you dying by some hell dog, could I?”

  I laugh as she yanks me up from the ground. She’s the one initiating affection as she pulls me into a hard hug. There’s no stopping the tiny moan from the pain in my shoulder. I glance at it to see blood seeping through my shirt from the demon bite. Zora releases me and I give the shoulder a roll, noting it still seems to work.

  “Let’s take this bitch down,” Zora grits out, her eyes moving to Kymaris.

  Carrick and Maddox are holding their own with her, but the power she’s pulling from the Blood Stone is giving her the advantage. They are now backing up defensively.

  “Let’s do it,” I tell my twin, and we rush forward to join the fray.

  Kymaris catches our advance from the corner of her eye. With an airy wave of her hand toward Maddox and Carrick, she freezes them in place.

  Just like that, without hardly a thought, she rendered them useless. Suddenly, I realize the entire time they’ve been battling her, she’s been toying with them.

  Kymaris takes in Zora standing next to me, her eyes lit with confusion. “What is this?” she demands imperiously. “Two of you?”

  “Identical twins,” I say proudly.

  Zora reaches out and grabs my hand, and I can feel the power between us flare brightly. Mine is white while hers is tinged in dark, but when mixed together, it feels the most right I’ve ever felt when it comes to my powers.

  Behind Kymaris, I see Maddox and Carrick starting to move, able to break free of her spell with their own magic might.

  Carrick catches my eye, and I nod.

  At once, all four of us shoot blasts of magic at Kymaris—Zora and I from her front, and the demi-god brothers from her rear.

  It tears through her, causing her to stiffen as her back arches in pain. She screams and struggles, but we hold her in place.

  And for a moment, it seems that this is it. We are taking her down.

  I consider making a run for the Blood Stone. She’s fifteen feet away and I can tear it free, I’m sure.

  Except I don’t get the opportunity as Kymaris gives a grand display of the power of the gem at her chest. With a mighty heave, she shrugs off our magic and repels it back on us. All four of us go flying away from her.

  Zora and I land hard on our butts, but we both jump up and try to blast her again.

  Carrick and Maddox do the same.

  Kymaris is simply faster, and she blasts the four of us again.

  We go flying again, this time further away from her.

  We do this two more times and Kymaris sends us flying each time, this time until Zora and I are right back at the north end of the ritual field.

  Our only reprieve is that a contingent of annihilators rush in to take on Kymaris, and they’re joined by several Brevalians.

  I watch in horror, however, as she manages to destroy each one with relative ease.

  All the while, Carrick and Maddox keep coming at her, but she manages to keep them rebuffed. Depression starts to swallow me as I push off the ground and watch Kymaris easily keep two demi-gods at bay and kill several immortals one by one as they rush her.

  More demons pour through the veil, along with several more Dark Fae loyal to their queen.

  When I look around, I realize we are losing everywhere.

  It seems to go into slow motion for me, perhaps because I can’t quite process that I’m staring at true defeat.

  My neck twists slightly until I see Boral and Zaid still battling Amell, but they’re losing as well. Both the Dark Fae and his daemon son are covered in their own black blood. Zaid can barely hold his sword up. While Boral’s strength is faring slightly better, it’s not by much.

  All of it plays out slowly… as if I had time to rush in and stop it, yet also knowing there’s no way I’d make it.

  Amell blasts Boral back with magic, then whirls on Zaid with his sword. He brandishes it parallel to the ground, the hilt by his shoulder and both hands wrapped tightly around it. He lunges forward, intent on sinking it straight into Zaid’s heart.

  My eyes fill with tears as I know the death of my friend is imminent, but then… right at the last moment before his end comes, Boral appears, throwing himself between the iron sword and his son.

  It pierces right into the left side of his chest, hitting his heart and coming out the back. Amell swiftly pulls the sword free, then starts to aim it back at Zaid.

  I’m frozen, tears now freely pouring down my face.

  But a blast of magic whizzes past my ear, straight at Amell, and hits him square in the chest. It’s not much and doesn’t even make him stumble back but a few feet, but his head shifts to look our way and his eyes connect with Zora, who sta
nds behind me.

  She’s the one who threw it, and Amell is astonished.

  At the same time, I see pride on his face.

  Zora’s voice rings inside my head, but she’s not talking to me. She’s talking to Amell while choosing to let me hear it.

  If you ever cared for me at all, she says, let him live.

  Amell stares at her for a long moment before giving a slight nod. He lowers his sword to the ground, but rather than turn to battle someone else, he casts a forlorn look at Zora.

  Then he blinks away, disappearing.

  I catch a glimpse of Zaid on the ground, cradling Boral, whose body starts to turn black and break apart into ash. He bows his head and cries freely over his father. I make a move to start his way, comfort the only thing I have to offer.

  Zora grabs my hand and jerks me back to reality, then things speed up once again.

  No more slow-mo.

  Just Zora standing before me with determination.

  She takes my other hand in hers. “Nothing we are doing is working. We cannot defeat her and the Blood Stone.”

  I don’t need to look around at the carnage again or see the demons pouring forth from the Underworld to know she speaks true.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I’m so sorry.”

  Zora’s expression hardens as she shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry. Do something about it.”

  “I can’t,” I moan, and I hate how whiny I sound.

  “You can,” she replies softly, then steps in closer to me. She squeezes both my hands, pinning me with her eyes. “I wasn’t truthful with you about why Amell came to the condo to see me.”

  I frown, slightly disoriented by this radical change of subject. “What do you mean?”

  She answers me, her words coming out with urgency. “Amell came to tell me that when the magic was held back and retained inside of me, it actually kept part of Kymaris’ life force within me as well. And part of my life force went into her.”

  I feel dense. This doesn’t make sense to me. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Our lives are tied to each other,” Zora explains quickly, because she knows we don’t have much time to sit here and chitchat. “The reason he tried to talk you into containing Kymaris rather than killing her is because—”