Divine Destiny
Page 25
Chapter Thirty-Five
The crowd in the arena had thinned out significantly by the time Anton and I returned. The stands that had been overflowing with interested parties showed scarce occupants instead. There were a few Vampyres, less Succubus and Incubus, and nearly no Aeronyx remaining. Magicks stayed eagerly in their positions around the room. Even the Nosferatu contingent whose warrior stood opposite me had depleted dramatically. That was odd. With their battle next, I had anticipated even more of the aromatic, nearly lifeless corpses. But instead, their section of seats held only a few.
Anton walked with me to my starting point and gazed down at me from his height. On his lips played a gentle smile. He gave me a quick reassuring peck on the cheek, and left to find his seat again in the front row. My father was already there, thankfully, busy reviewing some papers in his lap when my cheeks flushed with heat at that. Much to my surprise, Gabrielle and my mother sat next to him.
I was surprised again by the stocky figure that made his way up the entrance and slipped into the seat beside Anton. Anton turned to him, laughing, and grasped his wrist in greeting. Will glanced up at me, his forest green gaze catching my attention. It was almost imperceptible but just inside of the lively color, a ring of crimson lurked. He gave me a smile that I returned, if half-heartedly, and shot me a thumbs up.
Then, he turned to Anton, digging in his pocket before producing a piece of paper. He handed it to Anton who took only a moment to glance down before leaping up and tapping my father insistently on the shoulder.
Damien whirled. It wasn’t wise to startle the king of an entire vampire race but still Anton faced him down, expression serious. My father took the paper, looked it over, and then his gaze shot to me.
I stared blankly at him, my curiosity not allowing me to look away even at the risk of being found watching. Damien turned back to Anton, handing the paper back. He whispered hurriedly to my mother who then passed the information on to Gabrielle.
What on earth was it?
It was obviously about me. My mother and Gabrielle had returned. Perhaps it had to do with the amulet and it’s dark abilities. But no, they had been just as surprised as my father and Anton.
What was going on?
I wanted to leave my place, to run over and find out what had happened but I knew my duty was to stay where I was. Though the crowd had thinned, vampire royalty still occupied the seats around us. It would be improper for the Magick princess to disrespect the honor of her position as champion.
Well, the rule has been written as “prince” but the times were changing. Fortunately vampires were rather progressive compared to the rest of the supernatural world. Or so I’d heard.
I gazed at Anton, willing him to break the boundaries like he always did and come rushing over to tell me what he’d seen. He was trading glances between the image and me while speaking with Will.
I thought my curiosity would choke the life out of me when, with distinctive clarity, his words came soaring to me.
“—I knew the legends but how could it actually be happening?” he said, awed.
No. He didn’t say it exactly. I didn’t hear anything but the low rumble of incoherent voices. What I got was a sensation as clear to me as speech.
“She’s done it…,” the thought was drenched with awe. He turned his head to speak quietly to Will who kept a careful poker face. I wouldn’t have realized he was even surprised if not for the subtle widening of his eyes.
A sudden bolt of pain rippled down my spine, if only for an instant. I whirled to see Augustus Caraelius’ intense green gaze on me. A simple smile graced his lips as he realized he’d caught my gaze. It was eerie how his appearance was so similar to Carson’s and yet harder and more ruthless.
The mic feedback jolted me into returning my eyes to my father. “Welcome back spectators! We enter now the final Champion trial with Princess Kyra Lucius competing against the High Lady Necromancer, Sansa Otraum.”
There were polite applause but nothing like the cacophony previous fights had drawn. The crowd shifted subtly. They felt the tension rising.
My opponent might have been pretty once. She had had a long slender face but with an ethereal beauty. She had wide possibly grey eyes. But now she was a vision of horror.
Her skin was etched away in places, black in others. Her pupils were wide, so wide the maybe grey barely showed. The whites of her eyes were dark, nearly black but bright red vessels pulsed there, making her gaze terrifying.
She hunched forward awkwardly, reminding me of someone with a severe shoulder and back injury. Her lips were pulled away from pointed, rotted teeth.
She sneered at me. My father stepped back to the edge of the ring and lifted his hand. “The final fight begins now!” He roared. “Three! Two!” The remnants of the crowd shifted nervously.
And out of the corner of my eye I could still see the silhouette of Augustus. He wasn’t watching me or my adversary, however. His eyes lingered on the entrance where a refreshed Alicia Walmac had emerged. Then, his eyes flicked to the raised glass dome far above us. Alicia nodded and my father bellowed his last word.
“One!”
My opponent didn’t leave me time to think about it. A ball of rippling maroon tinged black energy hurled across the arena. It left a trail of darkness in its wake like a fog.
I dodged, though my timing wasn’t ideal. I just barely skirted the ball, it’s fog leeching onto my skin and searing my flesh. I shrieked though I’d tried to contain it.
I slapped my hand at my smoldering shoulder violently. That gave Sansa plenty of time to hurl more lethal energy my way. I mentally slapped myself, throwing my body sideways. This bolt missed, but only just.
I took several pounding steps forward, trying to close the gap. With the speed she’d maintained with the strikes, I didn’t trust to try to fight fire with fire from a distance. Sure, I could bring down waist sized strikes of lightning but her power had burned my skin clear off with but a graze. I couldn’t chance it hitting me directly.
Nosferatu were not known for their physical strength. That excelled at magic and aura energies. One of those was impacted quite negatively by a melee approach.
She didn’t let up on the balls of pain and torment. They soared past me forcing me to alter my course every few seconds.
As I neared, she became more frantic, coming closer to me with random tosses than aimed ones. I’d have to change up this fight soon or not at all.
As I hit the ten foot mark, she twisted her body and leapt upwards, hovering several feet above the ground with sickly purple-black energy seeping from her. She lifted one hand and twisted her wrist unnaturally.
When the wave came, it sucked the air from the room.
Flame exploded from the ground near my right foot, sending me staggering off balance to the left. The flame expanded into a seven foot Hugh blaze that stretched along the floor, cutting my side of the arena in half.
It wasn’t true flame. Instead it was a caustic fiery mixture that seemed to kill my flesh where it touched.
I slid on my knees until I was five feet away. The wall of pseudo flame kept me cornered onto one side of the room but still I fought forward. Nosferatu excelled at dark, necromantic powers. Physically, I’d overcome one easily but magically, they might be my superior.
I lifted my left arm, forming a domed shield around my forearm. With my right, I flicked my wrist, drawing forth familiar power in the shape of a long whip. I’d picked the trick up from the gladiatrix, Achillia, who had appeared to me in dreams before I’d ever met Sage.
Another ball of caustic flame caught the edge of my improvised shield, sizzling the magick along it’s edge. I had to duck my head to the side to avoid the blow.
While Sansa readied her next shot, I snapped my right arm forward, sending the whip out and along her side, flicking its top around her back to grab her.
I tried to fling her to the side, into her own wall of energy, but I met no resistance with my whip.
This finally made sense to me as the whip dissolved into nothingness around her waist, leaving me open to attack.
She grinned with her gnarled, broken lips as she lobbed another ball of flesh eating madness at me. I almost managed to dodge it. Almost.
As the ball neared, it caught my damaged shield and shattered it. I hurled away from her but not in enough time to miss that next blow. It crashed into my right shoulder, forcing my entire arm to go limp.
Searing, agonizing pain enveloped me. It felt like my arm had been ripped from its socket and doused in gasoline only to be lit ablaze.
I stumbled, pain causing my vision to blur and pulse. I barely caught images of the sidelines in my faltering vision. On my left, Carson’s look alike stood beside my former adversary, Alicia, watching with glee. On my right, Anton, Will, my mother, father, aunt, and Lady Stark were flanked by Lucas and the other council members.
They watched with horror in their eyes.
No. This wouldn’t be how this ended. I couldn’t let all of my hard work for our people fall because of an arm injury.
I mentally reworked my magick, forcing it to bend in ways it had never done. I shoved magick through my useless arm, watching joyfully as a similar looking arch of transparent blue energy curved in a dome around the right side of my body.
I dove toward Sansa, letting my mangled limb trail in my wake and drawing an excessive amount of power into my left arm.
I could see the surprise in her eyes as I neared but had no time or desire to take pleasure in it.
I ducked low and came at her unprotected abdomen with my weaker left arm raised. She tried to hit me again but at this distance, the bolts of energy only skittered off my shield and exploded into the hardwood behind me.
I lanced the held energy down my left arm and out of my hand, marveling at the slender blue-white apparition of a claw-like sword. It was the length of my arm at least and extended from my fingertips as though it were a part of my body.
Sanaa’s surprise exploded as I slashed the blade across her torso. Thick, black, caustic goo rolled down from the wound, the deep violet haze of energy around her dimming.
Where the sword had split her body, it had disintegrated much like my whip had. But it had driven home and that’s what I needed.
Sansa released a wave of that dark energy as I pulled back to recover my blade. It took several seconds to reform it and I found myself dodging until it was all I could do to maintain enough concentration.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the clawed thing formed again from my arm. Others didn’t seem to revel in my minor victory the way I did. Sansa sneered and I could see the expression mimicked in Caraelius’ face on my left.
I dove in again regardless, lifting the blade for what I hoped would be my final blow. Sansa fingertips emitted a blast of black fire the soared over my head as I ducked low again. I could make myself a smaller target than she could easily hit and I hoped that would be good enough.
She hadn’t even completely turned to me as I launched myself in the air, catching her where she hovered and slamming into her. Her remaining energy singed my clothes and skin, searing pain along my body.
But still, I lifted the blade and arched it overhead. We crashed to the ground, Sansa sliding away from me, and me skidding along the floor until I lay only feet away from Anton and Will.
I struggled to my knees with my one good hand, the blade a mangled mess as I released the magick from my hand.
I realized then, that my blade had struck true. Sansa lay before me, battered and broken with a thin slit across her throat. The caustic goo has ceased falling. Her dead eyes stared blankly above.
My father lifted the mic to his lips again. “Ladies and gentleman, greet your Champion! Winner, Kyra Luci—”
Those were the last words I heard as the explosion sounded, shaking the building from its very foundations and fire rained down from above.
Chapter Thirty-Six
In one swift moment, the entire arena erupted into chaos. The explosive had crumbled the exterior of the arena, raining molten steel and concrete down on the unsuspecting spectators.
The council had been blown in all different directions, but I saw six of them rise from the wreckage. Lady Stark and my father were the first I saw as they were closest to me. I breathed a sigh of relief at that.
An arm looped around my waist, dragging me to my feet. It took me several long moments to truly see Anton’s ash smeared face rise beside me. Will stood ready at his side, glaring at the billowing dust below the broken wall.
Anton righted me just in time to see enemies pouring through the makeshift entry.
Humans, Nosferatu, and dozens of shaggy, fur covered bodies poured into the room. Some of the humans lifted rifles to their shoulders, others braced for hand to hand combat which I found odd. They should know that physically, we outclassed them.
The unexpected wave of Nosferatu came soaring overhead, floating on their dark nexus of energy. They rained caustic fire down on us from above.
Two wolves were the first to reach our location. Will jumped on one, Anton—after ensuring I could stand—leapt after the other. Snapping jaws clicked in the open air as Will’s thick arms wrapped around one neck and twisted with an audible snap. His wolf fell lifeless to the side.
Anton dug his fingers into the mane of the other, a red haze glowing from them. Fire danced along the fur at its neck, exploding into a raging flame that was unquenchable as it engulfed the second wolf.
Three more unarmed humans leapt in our direction, keeping both Anton and Will busy as another human shape dropped onto the floor beside me.
A head of white-blonde tilted up to me, rosy lips split into a twisted smile. “We meet again young Princess,” Valeria sneered.
“You!” I hissed, overcome with rage. I launched at her, not considering my mangled right arm until it didn’t heed my call.
She sidestepped me and without my other arm to aid me, I lost my balance and staggered. Dammit. I wasn’t equipped for a fight with this woman right now.
I lifted my left hand and called on my diminished magick. It leapt at my call and electricity exploded down my left arm. I lifted my fingers and let a slender spear of energy zoom from me to her. She wasn’t fast enough to dodge the sudden shot and it sank into her skin, causing a shiver down her body.
Her arrogant sneer turned furious as she leapt on me. My head slammed off of the floor, sending dizzying sparks of darkness across my vision. She lifted one hand, holding my shoulders down with the other and cracked her fist into my chin.
Again, my vision exploded with inescapable darkness. I shook it but I’d only barely began to see again when the next blow slammed into me.
“You bitch!” Anton roared, leaping into her back. He slammed his knee into her spine and latched his hands around her throat, flames dancing in his fingertips. The fire seared the flesh along her neck even as she struggled to buck him off. He squeezed though, keeping her from a good angle.
Her face turned first red, then purple, then blue, as his fingers tightened on her windpipe.
Then the unexpected blow neither of us had seen coming sent him skittering across the arena floor away from us. Valeria struggled to her feet, rubbing at her tender skin.
I crawled to my knees, fighting against my useless arm before climbing to my feet.
And coming face to face with the love of my life.
Carson stood beside Valeria, watching me with an anger I’d never expected in his eyes. This wasn’t like how he had looked at me in all of my amulet aided visits. He had struggled to remember me then, but some part of him had at least recognized me. This man, this expression, he didn’t know me at all.
“Thank you,” Valeria cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. He didn’t flinch, but his eyes didn’t
leave me either.
She started to say more but I wasted no time in launching myself at him. I threw my arms around his neck and smothered my face into his shirt. No arms returned the embrace. No warmth came my way.
I leaned back, gazing at him and found hard eyes that could’ve been identical to his father’s.
“Carson?” I asked. His eyebrow quirked at me for a moment before he spoke.
“And you are?” He asked and it felt as though he’d driven a blade through my chest. One of his hands held my uninjured arm carefully, keeping me at a distance, but otherwise he made no move to take me into his arms. This wasn’t how I’d imagined our reunion to go.
“A pest,” hissed Valeria. “Dispose of it.”
He didn’t hesitate. I wanted to beg him to snap out of it, plead with him to come home. Instead he lifted his free hand and snapped it across my cheek. The blow was hard. I went skittering across the floor, the wood scraping and burning against my flesh.
I landed far enough away that I could scramble to my feet without intercepting another blow. I blinked hard, begging my troubled vision to clear.
When it did, I found Anton in a full blown fist fight with Carson. It was doubtful he hadn’t seen the blow then.
I felt like my heart had been broken in two. The Carson i knew and loved would never have hit me. This man before me did it with barely any encouragement.
It was also clear to me very quickly that Anton had once again intervened on my behalf. He struggled against Carson but physically, Carson had the upper hand.
Beyond them, my father whispered hurriedly to my mother who then sped down the hall, headed into the bowels of the building. He turned back just as half a dozen wolves pounded his way.
“Dad!” I shrieked, knowing I wouldn’t reach him in time even if I tried.
Much to my surprise, a colossal tidal wave drew up from the ground and crashed into the creatures, sending them sprawling across the ground on feet they couldn’t keep beneath them.