“Why? Has he followed a dark path?”
“Darker than the blackest, starless night.”
Sybil covered her mouth with her hand. “What has he done?”
“He’s raised an army against us.”
Sybil gasped as if it were her last breath, and her face contorted in pain. “The necromancer. No, tell me ’tis not him.”
Valoria’s heart broke apart. Regret, guilt, and shame piled on top of her. Whether it was because she’d inhabited the necromancer’s mind, or because she felt a connection to the old woman, Sybil’s pain was her own.
A single tear formed in the corner of her eye and ran down her face. It was enough to show Sybil she spoke the truth.
Chapter 30
Horizon’s Secret
Nathaniel surveyed a young man as he swung a gleaming sword in an arc above his head. “Remember, it’s heavier than the weapon you are used to. It will take more time to reach its target, but the blow will be devastating.”
“This armor feels like rocks are in my boots.” He wiped sweat from his brow.
“But it will protect you from the undeads’ teeth.” Nathaniel tapped on the arm plate. “One bite and you’re a goner.”
“They’re saying we’re all goners.” He swung again, this time hitting the scarecrow in the chest. Hay cracked and fell on the ground.
“That’s it!” Nathaniel clapped his shoulder. “With an arm like that, the undead are the goners.” Despite his encouragement, unease crossed his mind. These people were trained as thieves, not warriors. They didn’t even know how to properly wear armor. Some of them had never held a real sword in their hands.
“They’re goners to begin with.” The boy laughed and hacked again.
At least they had spirit. Nathaniel smiled and walked to the next trainee. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a head of hair. He changed direction.
The same young man who’d brought them to Gibson stood with a bow and arrow, aiming at a target board. Nathaniel approached him as he let an arrow loose and it hit the bull’s-eye. Perhaps they weren’t all inexperienced.
Nathaniel clapped, and the young man turned around.
“What are you looking at?”
Nathaniel crossed his arms over his chest. “I did not expect to see you here.”
“I didn’t expect to be here.” He scowled and leaned on his bow.
Some of the raiders who’d followed them had turned around, and others stayed for the hot meal and then fled. Still others had taken their swords and disappeared. But he’d remained. “You mean to fight?”
“I mean to make a place for myself.”
“What’s your name?”
“Flip.”
Nathaniel laughed.
“It’s a decent name.” He glared defensively. “Given to me by my late mother, Helena bless her grave.”
“That’s not what I find amusing.” Nathaniel stepped closer to him. “My name is Nathaniel Blueborough, but as a boy people called me Nip.”
The young man studied him with suspicion, but Nathaniel knew the truth would sound sincere. “My late mother named me after the blizzard she had me in.”
“So why did you give it up?” Flip scratched his head, looking younger than he usually let on.
Nathaniel shrugged. No one had asked him that before. “I suppose I wanted to be taken seriously by the castle folk. After I was adopted by the queen and late king, everyone asked what I was doing here at the castle. I felt out of place, and I missed my home. So I tried to leave the past behind and move forward. In my old life I was known as Nip, but in this one, I was to be Nathaniel.”
“Does that mean I’ll have to change my name?”
Nathaniel smiled. “Not if you do not wish to.”
“I want to keep it.” Flip picked up his bow. “I want to remember where I came from.” He aimed another arrow at the target.
“Then keep it, and do not let anyone convince you otherwise.” Nathaniel watched as the arrow hit the bull’s-eye once again.
A horn blew, and Brax jogged across the field to meet him.
“What is it?” Panic rose inside him.
“A warning.” Brax gestured for him to follow him to the battlements. “The queen is about to employ the blue fire.”
Nathaniel followed him, anxiety creeping into his gut. “Do you think it wise to draw their attention before the minstrels reach our front line?”
Brax tapped his hand on the hilt of his sword. “She wants to see what’s under the swamps. We cannot defend ourselves from an enemy we cannot see. What if they are already at our doorstep?”
It was a gamble, but they’d waited long enough. Nathaniel increased his pace, taking the stone steps two at a time. He reached the battlements along with the other soldiers, forming a line across the turrets. The queen stood at the highest point where the wall rose on top of a hill. Dressed in her armor, she held the vial above the swamps. Valoria stood beside her like an apprentice in training.
Brax clapped Nathaniel on the shoulder. “Now we will see if the princess is right.”
“She’s always right.” Nathaniel had full faith in her. Valoria had powers he could never understand, but there was also a goodness inside her that prevailed against all odds, as if the gods themselves kissed her steps.
The queen upended the vial, and the shimmery blue liquid spread in a line, sparkling in the sun as it fell.
Nathaniel held his breath. The liquid splashed into the muck, forming blue puddles. It disappeared as it dissolved.
“Damnable mermaid nonsense!” Brax pounded his fist on the stone. “And they said my ancestor was the trickster.”
“Wait.” Nathaniel refused to believe the minstrels’ songs were based on a lie. Everyone in Ebonvale thought them sly swindlers, but he knew Valoria’s integrity firsthand. He’d known her father as well, and Valorian had always been kind to him. There was more to the minstrels than magic and deception.
A few soldiers turned away, cursing. Nathaniel stayed, watching intently. “Look! Over there!” The horizon shimmered, like the sun baking the cobblestone on a hot summer’s day. The shimmering spread until the entire swamp glittered like a thousand diamonds.
The soldiers beside Nathaniel collectively gasped as the shimmering diamonds burst into specks of stardust, disappearing in a chain reaction. When the stardust cleared, dead trees, old carriages, bones, and muck stood uncovered.
Everyone began to cheer. Joy spread through Nathaniel, and he jumped and hollered. Brax clapped both his shoulders. It was one of the only times he’d seen his brother smile from pure triumph. They’d done this together.
Cries of shock and outrage cut through the celebration. Nathaniel turned back to the horizon, where soldiers with faces full of fear pointed to the swamps. Dread chilled his stomach as the horizon moved in an endless tide of bodies.
The undead were on their way.
* * * *
Valoria stepped back in horror as innumerable bodies writhed on the horizon. There were so many they could trample the entire continent, killing all life in their path. Victory seemed impossible.
The queen unsheathed her sword. “All elderly and children are to be brought to the inner keep. Everyone that can fight will suit up.” Ferocity burned in her eyes. The undead had taken her father and her husband. Valoria couldn’t imagine the vengeance burning through her veins. She pointed her sword into the swamp. “Let them come.”
Her courage brought Valoria to her senses. They had a few hours at most. The minstrels wouldn’t arrive for another two days. She needed her harp, but most of all, she needed to find Sybil.
Valoria threw herself down the steps as chaos broke out. The fastest way to Sybil’s tower lay across the courtyard. She turned left and shot through the main corridor, bumping into a servant holding all of her belongings in her arms.
Was she abandoning them?
Valoria didn’t have time to judge. Three men passed he
r by, running toward the battlements dressed in thick leather and metal armor. A noblewoman clutched her baby to her chest, jogging toward the inner keep.
Valoria leapt down the main steps toward the courtyard. Daisies bloomed unaware of the coming horde around the fountain where airborne dolphins and mermaids dove and twirled. Would this stand as a relic of a long-lost people while undead shuffled across the cobblestone forever?
“Valoria, wait!”
She whirled around expecting the necromancer to entrance her with his dark eyes, or for Nathaniel to give her a sweet, parting farewell. But, it was neither. ’Twas the last person in the world she would have thought would seek her out.
Brax ran toward her. His armor gleamed in the sun, polished to perfection. She must have misheard him. Why would he bother with her at a time like this?
Brax took his helmet off, revealing his blunt forehead, thick nose, and shaved head slick with sweat. He panted as though he’d been running hard. “I was looking for you everywhere.”
Valoria stared at him with disbelief. “Should you not be with your army?”
Brax shook his head. “I must speak with you first.”
Valoria hesitated, speechless, waiting on his words. What could possibly be more important to Brax than preparing for battle?
Brax gestured toward the fountain. Valoria sat on the edge underneath a mermaid holding a stone fish. Brax sat beside her, closer than he’d ever ventured before. “I should have told you back on Amok’s boat, or even back at the first dinner feast, and I’m sorry I waited so long.”
Valoria’s heart beat quickly as he took her hand. Disbelief mixed with confusion perplexed her. She’d attempted closeness like this so many times and failed, and now that he was in her grasp, she had no idea what to do with him. She did not feel lust, or attraction, or excitement, but she wasn’t repulsed, either. He’d grown in her estimation from a brute to an honorable man. What would he say?
“I lied to you.”
Her stomach dropped. Had he loved her all this time? The thought was preposterous.
Brax wiped sweat from his forehead. Words did not come easily for him. “When you asked me if I ever had fantasies of my own, I told you no. But, I do have fantasies, dreams I keep secret from everyone in the world. I saw those dreams in the waters with the mermaids, and that is why you will never own my heart.”
Valoria’s stomach hollowed out. Was he turning her away?
Brax touched her cheek. “I have come to admire and respect you, so much so, it would be dishonorable to marry you.”
Shock stole her breath away. Hadn’t she wanted this ever since she saw him drop that head on the floor of Ebonvale’s great hall? The undead were knocking on their doorstep, and he decided to reveal the truth. It didn’t make sense. “Why are you telling me now?”
“I want to free you from obligation. If anything happens to me on that battlefield, I want you to live your life and choose your husband. Do not live alone to honor me. It would be a false life.”
She opened her mouth to respond, and he pressed his finger to her lips. To any onlookers it might have looked as though he was consoling his love before battle. How wrong they would have been.
“There is a scroll on my desk in my study freeing you from any obligation. You may present it to the queen in the case of my death. And if I live, I will proclaim it as my burden only, so you will not disappoint your father. Let Ebonvale take the blame.”
Tears sprung to her eyes, even though his words were the most sensible notions she’d ever heard. “I have failed. We both have.”
“No, we haven’t. We’ve united Ebonvale and the House of Song in a just cause. If we triumph, let that be enough.”
Brax stood and placed his helmet back on his head. With a final wave, he jogged back toward the battlements, leaving Valoria in shock.
She did not have to marry Brax. He’d called off the wedding. So many consequences spouted from those two truths, but she didn’t have time to explore all of the options. If the undead broke through, there’d be no options for anyone.
Valoria pulled herself up and continued toward Sybil’s tower. The future was shaping up into something she could live with, now she had to claim it for herself.
Chapter 31
Sybil’s Redemption
“Fire!” Nathaniel shouted and brought his hand down. Two soldiers cut the ropes holding down a rock the size of a boulder, and the catapult squeaked as it hurled the projectile over the wall.
“Another one!” Nathaniel ordered. “Keep them coming.”
Brax, along with three other soldiers, rolled the next boulder from the stockpile. Nathaniel sprinted up the steps to see where the boulder landed. They’d missed three times before they started hitting the front line of undead, and they only had so many boulders left to throw. The undead moved quicker than he’d estimated, and the boulder had hit a clump in the middle of the army. More bodies eddied around the stone, taking the place of the ones lost in an endless tide.
“Again!” Nathaniel refused to be deterred. This time they had solid rock blocking the gateway, so they could spread all the fire they wanted.
“Archers!” He gestured for everyone with a bow to climb the battlements and waited. Too soon, and the arrows would fall short of the front line. As the archers pulled back their bows, Nathaniel lit the end of each arrow. “On the count of three.”
He took his own bow from his back and lit his arrow with the flame before it flickered out. “One…two…three!”
They fired, and streaks of red flame cut through the air in an arc. The first few shots landed in the muck and sizzled out. But the undead moved forward without fear or logic. They stumbled right under the brunt of the force, and the front line burst into flames.
Cheers erupted as the soldiers hooted and pumped their fists in the air. It was a small victory, because another wave crawled over the first, and slowly the flames burned out.
Archers began to hit them as they came within reach of the wall. “Not too close!” Nathaniel shouted. “Do not let the bodies pile up.”
He turned back to the swamplands, and a distant black figure too tall and skinny to be a man caught his eye. The figure sucked light like a shadow, blinking in and out of existence in unpredictable places. On his head, he wore a crown of teeth. The necromancer.
Dread chilled Nathaniel’s bones and he prayed to Helena and Horred that Valoria would not use her magic. That horrid monstrosity of a man would not have her.
The figure raised its hands over its head, and a ball of lightning sparked between them. The necromancer hurled the lightning toward the walls. The rock shook underneath Nathaniel as a crack sprung between his feet.
Horred’s gambit. They had less time than he thought.
The bodies of undead were piling on top of each other despite the archers refraining from hitting any too close to the wall.
Nathaniel turned back to the courtyard. The time for hand-to-hand battle was upon them. He’d held them off as long as he could, a pitiful try. At this rate, Ebonvale would be taken by nightfall. “Swordsmen come forward.”
The army, along with the raiders marched in single lines and formed a barricade along the wall. They would not hold them back for long.
* * * *
Valoria emerged from the tallest tower facing the battlefield. Undead swarmed the battlements, toppling over the edge with the force of a tidal wave. They fell over the rock wall, then stumbled forward on broken feet and cracked limbs, uncaring of their own incapacities. Soldiers met them on the ground, but too many were dying too fast.
She strummed her harp, calming her racing thoughts. Ironically, when her future seemed limitless for the first time in her life, she wouldn’t live to see its fruition. Not if she wanted to keep those she loved alive. She spotted the necromancer holding lightning above his head. His face was gaunt, his cheeks sunken in. He hurled a lightning bolt at the wall, and an ominous cracking sound, like a m
ountain splitting in half, rumbled through her gut.
He’d have a hard time working his magic if someone else stole it away.
“Valoria, don’t!” Echo distracted her. He stood below her tower waving his arms. “It will be your undoing.”
“So be it!” She’d locked the door behind her. Even using his most potent song, Echo would need time to break through.
“You’ll turn, just like the undead.” Echo shouted in despair. “Please. We do not need two necromancers.”
Amok’s words came back to her. The death of you, or your rebirth. He might have been a madman, but he held some wisdom as well.
Below her, Sybil stood atop a white horse, approaching the wall in only her white nightgown and bare feet. She gazed at Valoria and held up a hand in salute. Her face was solemn and determined.
The time of reckoning had come.
The necromancer shot another bolt of lightning at the wall, and a hole burst from the lower battlements, spewing chunks of rock at the soldiers in the front line. Undead trickled in as soldiers raced to meet them.
Valoria closed her eyes and called up the dark magic. It swelled within her, lighting her limbs on fire. Sheer power seduced her, bringing her to another level of consciousness where she stood over the physical world as a god.
The necromancer sounded pleased. “Welcome, Valoria. My army is at your command.”
The urge to spread the plague overwhelmed her. So much anger, pain, resentment festered in the living. If only they knew the numbness of the plague, the world would squirm and be still. They would bow to her command.
Remember who you are. Valoria fought against the tide. You do not wish for power. You don’t even want to be queen of Ebonvale. What did she want, truly?
The answer came from deep inside her. Nathaniel. She wanted Nathaniel. She always had since the first day she met him. If she allowed the undead to spread, she’d lose him to the horde.
No.
Valoria opened her eyes and spread her hands. The undead fell back in a line leading to the necromancer. Sybil kicked her horse, and galloped through the hole in the wall. Valoria fought to hold the undead from Sybil’s path even as the evil festered inside her, claiming her soul.
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