by K. A. Linde
“Reinforcements,” Malysa muttered. “How quaint.”
“We’re here to stop you,” Kael said, gallantly stepping forward.
He brought his sword up to Malysa, and she flicked him aside as if he were nothing. Kael stumbled a step, not used to the force of her magic or him not having any. But he recovered quickly as they all moved toward Malysa.
Malysa cackled at Kael, ignoring the rest. “You?” She ran a critical eye over Kael. “You hardly pose a threat at all anymore. You have no magic.”
“Didn’t stop me from killing Merrick,” he spat back.
Malysa actually stalled at that. “Merrick is dead?”
Cyrene took her chance. With Malysa distracted, she brought herself in close, using Shadowbreaker to thrust flames toward her. Avoca was at her side, swirling the flames hotter with her own fire.
Malysa came back to herself and dodged their blows as if she was toying with them. She kept her gaze on Kael and arched an eyebrow.
“Yes, I no longer have magic,” Kael cried, coming in to back up Cyrene and Avoca. “I’m no longer under your influence. It felt damn good to finally get rid of the bastard.”
Malysa used a sword of darkness to parry Dean’s first blow and then whirled to take Kael’s. “Merrick was my first creation,” Malysa gritted out. “You will answer for his death.”
Kael pressed in close, breathing hard from his injury. “I look forward to killing you for what you did to me and my ancestors.”
“What I did?” Malysa said, throwing her arm down and pushing the sword out of Kael’s arm. She reached forward and seized him by the collar, bringing him close. “Oh, poor boy, you did it all yourself. You think it was my influence that turned you into the person you are today?”
Kael beat at her chest, but she didn’t let him go. Dean sliced toward her but was deflected. It was finally Cyrene who managed to get a hit in that had Malysa drop Kael.
But she continued on anyway, “That is what you tell yourself. But, deep down, you know. You know what you did and that you’d do it again if given the chance. Remember when we killed that poor girl who was infatuated with you? Little Jardana.”
Cyrene winced at the name. Jardana had turned up dead, but she hadn’t connected it to Kael. But it made sense. He’d had a connection to her at the time. The blood magic was stronger that way.
“You wanted to do that,” Malysa said eagerly, staring down at him as he rose again to his feet. “Kill the sniveling lackey who begged for your affection. It felt good.”
Kael narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t want to. You forced my hand.”
“I wasn’t holding the knife.”
“You were holding my mind,” he growled.
Avoca and Cyrene moved in for another attack. Malysa threw up a shield between them. It took concentration to bring it down again, but another one replaced it almost instantly. Malysa just walked right up to Kael with a smirk on her face.
“You let me. You were festering with jealousy and obsession and anger. You wanted what your brother had. The one who wouldn’t let me in. But you did. Your father knew that the day he gave you the book. He didn’t think that you could lead. He thought you had the stomach to kill. That’s all.”
“My father loved me,” he spat, not backing down from her taunt.
Malysa raised an eyebrow. “Did he? Then why didn’t he put you on the throne? Why give you the book? Your brother was always stronger. He was always more loved. Everyone wanted him more. Even Cyrene.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Cyrene said. She ripped the shield down again and ran to shove Kael out of the way. “She is goading you. Don’t rise to the occasion.”
“I thought you were going to kill him,” Avoca said, taking up the defensive position next to Cyrene.
Dean raised his hands. “That’s what I said.”
“Surprise,” Cyrene said. “Now, can we focus?”
Malysa turned her attention back to Cyrene. She didn’t seem as if she was even breathing hard. In fact, she seemed to be having fun. Like this was a good warm-up for the main event.
“Don’t you know that Cyrene has never met a broken creature she didn’t want to put back together? Even if she had to waste most of her reserves to bring a worthless human like Kael Dremylon to life.” Malysa strode back and forth before them. “It is her flaw.”
“Some of us see it as a gift,” Dean said.
Malysa’s eyes flicked to him as he rushed her. She stopped his sword with a black blade of her own and then redirected his lightning up into the sky. The bolt flew into the empty sky, lighting it up. Malysa’s eyes narrowed a fraction and then rounded in surprise. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
“The person who is going to end this,” Dean growled. He stepped back, shifting his feet through paces.
Cyrene flipped her blade, preparing for her next attack. “If I didn’t know better, I would think that you were stalling.”
“Stalling?” Malysa asked. “Why would I need to stall? I have nothing to fear. You, on the other hand, have much to fear. Like your little Daijan here.”
“Don’t call me that,” Dean growled low.
Malysa smirked. “I wish I’d known you had the gift long ago. I would have come for you.”
“It would have made no difference,” Dean said sternly. “I have been forced to serve one god. I will never serve another.”
“And who, pray tell, did you serve?” Malysa asked eagerly. The first news of home she’d had in thousands of years. She looked greedy for information.
“Valesamy,” Dean spat as if he hated the taste of her name on his mouth.
Malysa’s eyebrows rose. She spread her arms wide, and another shield shifted into place. As if this conversation was much more interesting than the fight. “That wouldn’t be Valesamy Rosengrave, would it?”
“Yes,” Dean said in surprise. “You knew her?”
“Oh, she’s a real nasty piece of work,” Malysa said. “She’s my cousin. Distant cousin.”
“Well, that explains it.”
“And how did you get to Domara?”
“As if I’m going to tell you that,” Dean said.
“I could make you tell me. Did you use the diamond?” Malysa’s eyes flicked to Cyrene’s throat. “Did you get it to work?”
“No. And, even if I told you how I did it, you’d die before getting there. You aren’t worthy.”
Malysa snorted, and darkness curled up her wrists. “It has nothing to do with worth and everything to do with power.”
“That is the part you’ll never understand,” Dean said as Cyrene slashed through the shield. They all advanced as one. “It is not all about power. Sometimes, it is about your humanity, which you do not have.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Malysa said. “I’ll keep you alive at the end of this, and you can show me how you got there. Then we can see for ourselves if it’s power or your humanity. And, if it’s just power…I’ll kill you.”
“Doesn’t sound like a very good deal,” Cyrene said.
Then she exploded into action.
Cyrene sank deep into herself, pulling up the spirit energy and her connection with Avoca and Sarielle. They both pressed into her, feeding her more and more. Then she threw her arms out toward Malysa with enough magic to kill a person on the spot. Avoca threw a knife at the same time. It was hyper-focused by the wave of her magic. Dean shot lightning from his fingertips. His aim perfect. Even Kael slid in low, trying to cut Malysa off at the legs.
All together. All coordinated.
Malysa took the hit from Cyrene, only half-deflected by a wave of her darkness. She stumbled backward a step just as Dean’s lightning shot toward her. With anger roiling off of her, she threw up what looked to be a mirror in front of the lightning. And suddenly, the bolt was ricocheting back the direction it had come. Dean had to dive out of the way to avoid getting struck from his own magic.
She lashed out at Kael, reopening his already-injured shoulder.
And, to Cyrene’s dismay…Avoca’s shot went wide. The blade skittered across the balcony and landed with a thud against the stone.
Malysa’s dark hair came out of place. Her hands were balled into fists. Their attack had done nothing but provoke her.
“I have entertained you enough. Your army will fall. You will all lose. And I will make you watch it,” Malysa said. She snapped her fingers. “My Voldere are ready to end the last bit of resistance in your army. You are nothing. You have nothing.”
“I still have this,” Cyrene shot back, touching her fingertips to the diamond. “And, while I have this, I can still beat you.”
“That hunk of rock is practically useless. It always has been,” Malysa snarled. “You will need more than that to win. And you played all of your cards. You drew a losing hand.”
That was the moment they all heard wings.
The sound of hundreds of wings beating against the sky.
Malysa whirled around, and that was when they all saw what Cyrene had only hoped for.
Dragons.
Hundreds of dragons and their riders.
The Society had arrived.
69
The Society
Kerrigan
Kerrigan soared over the ground toward the battle raging in the distance. Her fiery-red hair blowing loose behind her. Bright green eyes burning with desire and purpose.
It had been two days since Cyrene contacted her.
She had been lying down on her cot within Draco Mountain. She had just finished for the day. So tired of hour after hour of tutors and etiquette training and swordplay. All before she did her duties as an official Dragon Blessed, which was the best part of it all.
The next thing she knew, she had awoken within the dragon quarters with Cyrene standing before her.
* * *
“Kerrigan Argon,” Cyrene said with something like relief.
“Cyrene of the Doma?” Kerrigan asked in shock. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
“We are on the spiritual plane at the moment. This doesn’t technically exist. I was able to pull you to me while I was awakening dormant magic in the Doma of Emporia.”
Kerrigan blinked. She couldn’t imagine the magnitude that would take. To have the ability to activate magic in people.
“I think I could reach you because we are connected, you and I. The same in some way,” Cyrene explained. “But I don’t have much more time to explain. I just have this moment before I finish what I have started.”
“It must be a great need if you are here.”
“Yes. I sent letters to you, Helly, Kivrin, Alura, and Fallon months ago. Did you receive one?”
Kerrigan shook her head. “No, I’ve never gotten a letter.”
Cyrene sighed. “I figured as much. I’d hoped that you would have gotten them by now, but even if you had, you would not make it in time.”
“Make it in time?” Kerrigan pressed, straightening her spine and preparing for the worst.
“A darkness has come over my homeland. There is a goddess from Domara who is set to kill anyone with magic and wishes to set herself up as ruler of Emporia. I fear, if she succeeds, she will not stop here. This will be a stepping-stone to her appearing in Alandria. I must stop her. And, to do so, I need to use all the resources at my disposal.”
“The Society.” Kerrigan understood immediately.
Cyrene nodded. “I could only reach you. You must convince them to come through the portal. The fate of our world might very well rest in your hands.”
Kerrigan swept her gaze down Cyrene. She was dressed in the black fighting leathers of her people. She looked different in some way. A diamond hung at her throat. Her eyes were full of power and knowledge. She was more certain. As if destiny had touched her.
And Kerrigan knew in that moment that all Cyrene had said was true.
“I will do it.”
“Thank you,” Cyrene said. She smiled fondly at Kerrigan. “It’s so good to see you.”
* * *
A touch of a smile graced Kerrigan’s severe features at the memory.
She had gone to Helly right away. And, two days later, after much debate and a lot of threatening on Kerrigan’s part, they were here. In a whole new world.
Helly hadn’t wanted to bring her along. She wasn’t technically part of the Society. She was just a Dragon Blessed. An orphan—in her mind, if not in name—sent to the Society to help raise and tend to the dragons. After they came of age and joined a proper tribe, many Dragon Blessed went on to have incredible careers.
But Kerrigan had no interest in that. As far as she was concerned, the only troubles she had ever had in her life came from the tribe system. And her father and the Bryonica tribe could kiss her ass. She’d make a name for herself all on her own, thank you very much.
Kerrigan focused on the battle before them as they drew in sharply toward it. She was on the back of Helly’s dragon, Tavry. This was the only way that she had been permitted to come. Just to watch as they took out their enemies.
Tavry joined forces with the other dragons in the skies, and they dive-bombed toward the goddess’s forces. Kerrigan saw the hellish creature just as Tavry breathed fire on it. She had no name for such a thing. A demon. Leathery black skin, enormous wings, and blood-red eyes that were trained on her like she was prey.
The fire barely touched them.
But Tavry had fought many battles. She was not ill-prepared for what was to come. Even if this was a new enemy.
She breathed her flames once more before barrel-rolling in the air. Kerrigan held on with all her might. Tavry came out of the turn and then opened her strong jaw. She clamped down around the beast’s neck. A loud crack sounded, and the rest of the demon’s body dropped out of the sky.
“Good job, Tavry,” Helly said. She glanced back once at Kerrigan. “Holding up, child?”
Kerrigan smiled brilliantly. “Better than ever.”
She watched as the Society slaughtered the opposing forces.
And she knew deep in her soul that this was what she wanted to do.
One day, she would join the skies.
70
The Blood Debt
Malysa’s eyes were as black as night. “How?”
It was only one word. But it cut like a knife.
Cyrene just smiled valiantly. “I invited some friends.”
“You’ll pay for this.”
“Maybe I will. But it was worth it to see you realize that I could beat you.”
“You could never beat me. If I have to kill a hundred dragons, I will do it,” Malysa snarled.
But there was an edge to her voice. As if she had tipped over a precipice. One minute, she had been utterly cool and confident, and the next, she saw a chance of failure. And she plummeted straight into that lingering madness. The same insanity that had manifested in Kael time and time again.
Cyrene had thought that it was what the blood magic did to a person when they had to endure the addiction and withdrawals and murders. But she was starting to wonder if that madness had a different source. If Malysa’s own illness leeched into those who also stole magic. If she infected them so thoroughly that they lost their mind in turn.
“I will still win this war,” Malysa taunted.
She stepped forward. The darkness growing and growing. Until it encompassed her completely, spreading like a miasma. Trailing across the terrace, covering their feet and then over the balcony wall and out farther and farther toward the dragons. It was coating everything. As if she could suck them all into her vortex.
Cyrene couldn’t let this happen. “You won’t win. Not while I still live.”
Then she touched the diamond at her throat and threw a weave of elements toward Malysa. She avoided the hit with ease, but it slowed her magic for just a second. That was enough for Cyrene.
“You could have been so much more,” Malysa said. “And now, you’re just getting on my nerves.”
She cast out
her net. Not just the inky darkness, but also a thrust of something Cyrene had never seen before. It was practically solid with black. Death. That was what it was. And Cyrene was not fast enough to evade it. She hadn’t even seen it coming.
For a second, Cyrene just stood there and waited. This was the moment. If she had to sacrifice herself to save her army, then so be it. She didn’t have enough time to pull up a shield. And she wasn’t certain it would even work. There was no time to investigate the weave because this thing wasn’t made from Doma magic. It was blood magic—dark, twisted, and evil.
And it would kill her.
She let her eyes flutter closed the second before it reached her.
Said good-bye to the world all around her.
Then something collided with her body. Something solid. Something decidedly human.
Cyrene’s eyes flew open as Avoca shoved her out of the way of Malysa’s blast. Her ice-white blades were up and took the brunt of the attack. The instant they touched her knives, the blades turned black. As if they had been stained with a dye.
Cyrene collapsed to the ground a few feet from where she had been standing. Avoca fell down next to her. Her blades skittered out of her hands, falling far away from where she now lay on the ground.
And then Cyrene felt it.
The bond.
As it snapped.
Cyrene shrieked in pain and anguish.
“No, no, no, no, no,” she gasped out, clutching her side as if it were a physical wound.
Losing Avoca was like someone had sliced open her stomach and disemboweled her. It hadn’t felt like this any other time the bond was broken. Because she had chosen Avoca. It was what she had wanted.
After everything they had been through, this couldn’t be how it ended. The bond was permanent. It was there forever. The entire time Avoca had been in a coma, the bond had always been the reassurance that Avoca was still with them. It had always shown Cyrene that there was just a problem in reaching her. She wasn’t dead.
