by Lisa Morrow
Marcalus gave a sharp nod.
Sazar spoke, his voice like the slithering of snakes down my spine. “This doesn’t matter. We will win tonight.”
Indecision filled Marcalus’ face.
Fighting the urge to scream, I imagined the terrible death Sazar would finally experience in the Underworld. Cruel men suffered for eternity there, and he’d been a very cruel man both in life and death. I’m sure many of his victims would rest more peacefully knowing he’d finally gotten what he deserved. Unexpectedly, the thought gave me courage.
“But no one needs to fight tonight. No one needs to die. Let’s just end this now.”
Marcalus pierced me with a glare. “We can’t do that.”
“But a living wizard has been found!” I took a step towards him. “I know you all want revenge, but how many innocent lives will be taken in the name of revenge?”
“None,” Marcalus answered, too quickly. “We only want the lives of The Protectors and the queen.”
I raised my voice, striving to be both heard and believed. “No one here believes Sazar, his brothers, and the other Blood Wizards are going to stop at just killing The Protectors.” My gaze held his. “Do you honestly think we’re wrong in that belief?”
“They’ve given me their words.” Marcalus’ expression was like stone as he looked to Asher. “How can you trust a Protector after knowing what happened to us?”
Asher forced a smile as he glanced at me. “She’s not a Protector, but she doesn’t want bloodshed any more than I do.”
My heart stopped.
Marcalus glanced at me, a slow look of realization dawning on his face. “Don’t you see, boy? She’s a Protector, and she’s tricking you. Just like Blair tricked me.”
“She’s not.” Asher’s answer held a warning.
My head spun and suddenly I knew the truth was about to be revealed. In the worst possible way. And there was nothing I could do about it.
“Look beneath her bracelet, boy.”
He turned to me.
Pressing my hand to my mouth, I fought the sob threatening to explode. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and my heart twisted, bleeding soundlessly. I’d lied and deceived the man I loved and now I’d have to face him, to see if he could understand why I had to do the things I did… to see if he could forgive me for my betrayal.
I met his gaze. “I’m sorry,” the words cracked as they dropped from my lips.
Disbelief filled his eyes, replaced by anger.
He grabbed my arm and ripped the bracelet from my wrist.
It fell away. And the Protector’s mark stood, naked for all to see.
Tears obstructed my vision. “Asher, you don’t understand.”
“You lied.” His voice condemned me.
“I wanted to tell you—”
“You lied,” he repeated, dropping my wrist as if my touch alone was painful.
Marcalus’ voice came, as if from far away. “So, boy, now which side will you stand on?”
“No,” I sobbed, grabbing for Asher.
He shrugged away from my hands. “Don’t touch me.”
“I had—to lie. It was—the only way— to save— everyone,” I sobbed so hard that my stomach ached, willing him to hear me, to forgive me.
“No more,” he growled.
I stared at Asher’s tortured expression from a curtain of tears. The muscles on his jaw clenched over and over again, making his scars wave as if dancing. Hurt teamed with rage swam in his deep blue eyes… eyes that refused to look at me.
He didn’t answer Marcalus for a painfully long time. “It’s true I’m a wizard, but I’m not a Blood Wizard. I’d never fight alongside them, and I think anyone who willingly does so, is a fool.”
“Thank you,” I whispered to him.
His words were for me, even though he didn’t look my way. “I’m fighting because you’re right, Blood Wizards can’t be allowed back in Tarak. But as for you and I, there is nothing between us.”
Claws dug out my heart, and I clutched at my chest, gasping. How could words hurt so badly? So deeply?
“Remember, boy,” Marcalus said, “you made this choice.”
Asher walked away from me.
I reached for him. “Please…”
He shook me off.
Someone grabbed me from behind.
I whirled, staring through tear-filled eyes.
“Focus on the battle,” Norma ordered me. “Being distracted during a fight will get you killed.”
A hysterical sob escaped my lips, but I wiped the traitorous tears from my eyes and cheeks. She was right. I couldn’t morn what my lies had cost me, not now.
She let me go.
A rush of hot, angry magic swept over me, and Norma screamed. I closed my eyes, knowing that I didn’t want to see her blood, or her transformation.
When the heat died down, I opened my eyes. She was a she-demon again, with skin the color of fresh blood and long, wicked nails. Ugar lumbered to stand next to her, matching her height and size. But with his oily black skin and milky white eyes, he was his own nightmare come to life.
Around them, their creatures howled in triumphant. The wolves with scales darted into motion, stretching and moving in their new gigantic bodies. Tall creatures covered in silver spines shrieked, their lipless mouths twisting into eerie smiles.
Beads of sweat trickled at the back of my neck, and in the palms of my hands. I took deep breaths, reminding myself that these creatures fought on our side.
The Protectors looked oddly out of place in their expensive dresses, standing amongst the monstrous beasts. Many wore expressions of shock, while some looked pale as ghosts, terror plucking away their confidence. Most were older women, but just as many looked to be girls younger than myself. Were these women really going to do any good in this battle?
I wondered if Norma had even offered to transform them too, in exchange for their True Names. If she had, perhaps these women had simply been too afraid of what she could do with such precious information. Did they regret it now?
My stomach clenched. I couldn’t worry about anyone other than Asher. The Fates had decreed that somehow I’d defeat these Undead wizards. All I could hope for was that the man I loved could still be the key to ending all of this, even if it wasn’t going to be the bloodless solution I’d imagined.
I walked towards Asher, who waited near the shield, his sword in hand. He didn’t glance at me as I came to stand at his side, but his flesh was ghostly white.
“It’ll be all right,” I whispered.
He stiffened, but said nothing.
“You still have time to leave.” My heart ached as I spoke the words, unsure of what I wanted.
If he left, he would be safe. But if he walked away in this moment, The Fates’ decree would fall on my unworthy shoulders alone.
Something unnamed shivered along my spine. Tarak’s destiny couldn’t lie in my hands. I was no one. A girl with special powers, but weaker than Blair. A girl who could fight, but no better than Meisha or Clarissa. There was no logical reason for my destiny, other than that I had Asher.
“I’m staying,” he said, his harsh words interrupting my spiraling fears.
I longed to let my walls fall, to reach out to him through our connection and reassure him, but I couldn’t risk it. If I lowered my walls, he’d feel my pain in battle, something I couldn’t allow. And even more dangerously, I might subconsciously reach out to the magic in the flowers. I’d promised myself no more girls would die at my hands, and I wouldn’t break that promise, even if it cost me my life.
Marcalus shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Done?” he asked, with a hint of amusement.
Norma bellowed. “We’re ready! And this time, your men can bleed like mortals… die like mortals.”
Her words sent a wave of motion through the Undead wizards. What must it be like for them to be so close to their goal, but also risk experiencing death all over again?
“It’ll be yo
ur people suffering this night.” He paused, raising his voice. “I want every man, woman, and child to know that when we win this battle, it was won fairly. We’ll show all of Tarak that Queen Gaudias and her precious Protectors were wrong about us. We are men of honor.”
You can’t keep your honor in war. The thought hurt even as it came to me. Of course he could, but there was no longer an honorable way this battle could end. We were fighting men who died at the hands of Protectors, just because of what they were. And they were fighting for revenge, which was always wrong.
Marcalus turned to his men. “It begins!”
More dark shapes flickered into life on both sides of the Undead wizards. Hadia’s creatures came into focus, wearing tattered clothes over their human bodies, and the black, scaly faces of lizards. The scent of wet reptile came to me, and I choked down the bile that rose to the back of my throat.
Marcalus smiled. “And it’s just beginning.”
The wizards gathered again, this time all lining up behind their leader, rather than his nephew. Each man reached out and placed his hand firmly on the shoulder of the man in front of him. Tension lined their faces
My pulse spiked. How long would our shield hold out? It had fallen so quickly before, but now I wouldn’t be able to strengthen it. No matter what, I wouldn’t steal magic from the flowers.
Dark, oily magic leapt from Marcalus’ fingertips, drawing my attention back to the battle. More magic poured from the wizard’s hand on Marcalus’ shoulder, and on each wizard’s shoulder in the long line.
Our shield shuddered.
“When it comes down, their magic will hit us like a wave. If you aren’t ready, it’ll knock you to the ground.”
The only sign that Asher heard me was the slight tightening of his shoulders.
In front of us, the red of our protective shield was now entirely covered by their magic, cloaking the whole thing in black. Again, it shuddered.
I withdrew my sword and braced myself.
Seconds later, the shield shattered.
An icy wind slammed into us, knocking me a few steps back. Red bits, like glass, rained down on us. Asher held his spot, his feet firmly planted apart.
When the wind and the haze of red passed, I looked to the wizards. The shield no longer separated us, but no one moved.
“Artemay,” I cried, imagining what I wanted done.
A glimmering shield encircled Asher and I, growing stronger as I came closer to him. The hand gripping my sword grew damp as I pointed it in front of me, willing my breathing to remain calm.
“Time to claim our revenge!” Marcalus shouted.
“Yes,” Sazar responded, grinning. “It is.”
Marcalus glanced at him, brows furrowed.
Sazar raised his hands. A gray fog snaked from his fingertips, bringing with it the coppery scent of blood. Cries behind me drew my gaze. Several of The Protectors eyes glowed red. One woman withdrew a dagger. Before I could utter a warning, she shoved the blade into the back of a scaly wolf standing next to her.
He howled in outrage, and I turned away, not wanting to see allies turning on one another. I’d heard enough of Blood Magic to know what would happen next, how Sazar would use his victims to fight, even as he drained them of their life forces. Soon, he would be stronger, and they would be dead, along with all those they killed.
“No!” yelled Marcalus. “This wasn’t what we agreed on!”
Undead creatures ignored him, leaping into battle as the scent of blood filled the air. Wolves sprang forward, meeting their enemies in a deadly struggle. Claws slashed. Teeth bit into unguarded, tender flesh. Screams of pain and suffering erupted like a chorus of the dying.
“Are you truly surprised?” Norma roared, as a lizard-man leapt for her. With a flick of her wrist, she shredded the creature, its pieces disappearing before they could fall to the ground.
The wizards separated. Most stood behind Marcalus, but those few that gathered behind Sazar had the twisted bodies of men warped by Blood Magic.
Sazar dipped his head in a mock bow. “Great leader. You’ve gotten us this far. But surely you must know that without Blood Magic, we will lose.”
Marcalus strode closer to the hunched figure, crowding him. “We win honorably or not at all.”
Sazar’s mouth twisted into a stomach-churning smile, the jowls on his throat shaking. “I was worried you might say that.”
In a movement too quick for my eyes to follow, Sazar withdrew his sword and drove it into Marcalus’ chest.
Silence stretched amongst the wizards.
Marcalus gasped, the movement of his lips causing a trickle of blood to escape from the side of his mouth.
The small sound set our enemies into motion, attacking one another, in a shocking display of treachery. The orange-haze gathering above them grew deep and dark, like a churning storm. Icy wind battered us from all directions as the men and boys squared off with one another.
My gaze shifted from them to their creatures, who advanced on us. Apparently, they didn’t care what the Undead wizards were doing, we were still their enemies.
I stiffened as movement came out of the corner of my eye. A lizard-man jumped in front of me, smashing helplessly into my shield.
In one quick movement, Asher sent his sword through the creature’s body. It shuddered and then vanished.
More lizard-men followed the first. Asher and I worked without speaking, our swords stabbing out. When my shield flickered, I fed it more strength.
Another lizard-man stalked closer to me. He hesitated outside my shield, then stepped through.
“Promethia!” I shouted. Fire leapt from my fingertips, blazing over the creature. In seconds, he crumbled away.
My legs shook. Why hadn’t my shield held?
Then I saw Asher. Too far away. My shield barely shimmered, sputtering in and out of sight. Three Undead creatures surrounded him, slashing out. His arm bled. His cheek bled.
I raced to him.
Something wrapped around my ankle. My body smacked to the ground, my head spinning. Pain seared my ankle. Looking down in a panic, a wounded lizard-man grinned at me through a mouth filled with bloody, razor-sharp teeth. It opened its mouth again. I twisted and kicked out.
Its head snapped back.
I reached behind me, then snagged the hilt of my fallen sword. Moving more on instinct than skill, I shoved the blade into the creature.
It disappeared.
I stared at the bloody bite wound on my ankle for one second, horror bubbling inside of me. Between the moon and the flickering torch light, it looked like nothing more than a blood drenched area. It burned, but when I rotated my ankle, the pain was bearable.
Then, I remembered Asher.
Looking towards him, I watched as he moved with a warrior’s grace, killing first one, then two of his enemies. Stumbling to my feet, I dragged myself towards him. The throbbing in my ankle quickly faded as energy coursed through my body.
I nearly reached him when the third lizard leapt, its claws stretching for his throat.
Asher turned, too slowly. But to my relief, the creature struck my shield, strengthened by our nearness once more. It gave Asher the time he needed to plunge his sword into the thing’s chest. The creature faded like the others.
“Stay close,” I said, clenching my teeth as the full-force of my weight landed on my injured ankle.
He smeared the blood on his cheek, wiping his hand on his pant leg. “I don’t need your help.”
I opened my mouth to argue, when a red-eyed wolf stalked around the outside of our shield. My sword trembled in my hand. Could I really kill one of our own people? Even if it planned to attack me?
The wolf leapt. Asher slashed it down.
My stomach churned.
“It isn’t—dead,” Asher panted.
A wave of relief ran through me. All around us battles were being fought, but no more creatures approached us. My heart thudded in my chest as my gaze skittered from the battle to
the dying leader of the wizards not twenty feet in front of us.
Asher started toward the man, and I followed.
Marcalus was our enemy. He’d wanted to destroy us, to kill me. And yet, I’d understood his hatred and his anger. I’d even admired his honor. Watching the Blood Wizards leering over him as sparks of blue energy exploded from the Head Wizard’s fingertips, was like watching a powerful stag fighting against a pack of wolves. Something deep inside of me longed to protect him, even while I knew it was too late.
Marcalus’ hand held an icy blue tint, and some part of me knew his life-force fled with each second that passed. Blood drenched his chest and the front of his trousers, spreading from the blade that still protruded from his chest.
The grins on Sazar and his brothers’ faces said he’d been easily defeated.
Marcalus swayed back and forth, then crumpled to his knees. “But why?”
Asher and I froze, exchanging a look.
Sazar leaned over him. “I’m not going to Hadia, to pay for my crimes in life. I’m going to destroy Tarak and spend my days living like a king.”
“You always—knew,” Marcalus coughed, more blood splattering his lips. “A man—must pay for—his crimes.”
Sazar’s smile widened. “Not this man.”
Behind them, magic sizzled from one side to another. Multi-colored powers exploded from the hands of the wizards, slamming into victims that had only minutes before been their allies. Moans and cries of agony filled the air as they died, for the last time.
The sounds cut off abruptly, as the Wizards disappeared, back to Hadia, as their time as mortals ended. At last, only Sazar and his brothers looked down at where Marcalus knelt, dying.
“Goodbye, gullible Marcalus,” Sazar’s hand curled around the hilt of the sword protruding from the other man’s chest.
My pulse spiked. We couldn’t let this happen!
“No!” the terrified shout came from behind us, followed by a rush of hot magic.
Sazar and his brothers shot back from Marcalus, flying through the air before crunching into the ground more than fifty feet away.
Blair swept past us, in a gown the color of lightning. She knelt down beside Marcalus and touched his cheek with her hand. “I’m too late.”
