Last Stand: The Black Mage Book 4

by Carter, Rachel E.

  “You made my best friend miserable for years.”

  “She was a threat. She understands. Don’t you, Ryiah?”

  I nudged Ella who was busy spitting back a reply. “Let her be.”

  My best friend ground her teeth but didn’t speak again.

  “You are to be queen.”

  Priscilla lifted her chin. “You aren’t getting my crown.”

  “I don’t want it. I need you to pardon Darren for his crimes.”

  Ten seconds went by and nobody spoke. I watched as her expression went from disbelieving to incredulous.

  “You are joking.”

  “It’s not what—”

  “You were a rebel,” Priscilla sputtered. “You know what he and his family did. Quinn told me everything… Gods, Darren had patrols hunting you, Ryiah. I know you always were a little slack-jawed where that boy was concerned, but I should think the moment he tried to kill you, you’d finally grow some sense.”

  “No!” My voice rose and Priscilla paused, momentarily stunned. “I mean, yes, Darren did most of those things, but there’s more.”

  I proceeded to explain everything.

  To her credit, the queen-to-be didn’t interrupt once.

  Alex and Ella took turns retelling parts I had missed, or whenever I ran out of breath. It was a complicated tale.

  When we finally finished, the three of us waited expectantly.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Priscilla’s face was pale. “It’s too late.”

  My fingers dug into Alex and Ella’s arms. “What do you mean ‘too late’?”

  “I have to restore the peace.” Priscilla looked skyward. “I gave Horrace my word.”

  “What about Darren?”

  “Ryiah, you don’t understand.”

  “I have done everything for Jerar!” Fury had me tasting ash. “Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “It does.” She cringed. “But it’s not my choice.”

  “You are going to be queen!” Ella rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell us you can’t do it, Priscilla.”

  “You, a highborn, should know better,” the girl snapped. “The other kingdoms are ready to cut Jerar off at its head! No one wants to sign a new treaty with a country that has already betrayed their compromise once. King Horrace is willing to pardon the rebels, but he is not willing to forgive the rest.”

  “Horrace is not our king. He’s not even a part of Jerar! We helped him. Without the rebels, his country would be a wasteland right now!”

  Priscilla didn’t look away. “You have no idea what it means to be queen, Ryiah. I have to consider our peace before everything else. We don’t need the greedy Pythians picking off our remains now that Borea and Caltoth have turned their backs.” Her arms folded across her chest. “We need to give Horrace whatever it takes to bridge that alliance. His one request, which is far better than the slaughter of our army and all those who unwittingly partook in the wrong side, mind you, is the life of the king that took his kingdom to war.”

  “But Darren was b-barely even king!” My voice cracked and it hurt to speak. “Priscilla, please—”

  “Ryiah.” The future queen placed her hand on my shoulder, and I flinched.

  “I know we haven’t been the best of friends.” Her tone was somber. “You could even say we were enemies… But despite everything we were, everything we are, I would help you if I could. I swear it.”

  “Then do something!” Alex lunged forward, taking half of me with him. “Sentence Darren to exile. It doesn’t have to be execution!”

  Priscilla drew a sharp intake of breath. “You think I wouldn’t consider that if I could? Darren has the blood of the old family running through his veins. So long as he breathes, he is a threat to King Horrace. Even if Darren never contested my rule, and I don’t believe after what Ryiah told me he would, his children’s children could come back and try to reclaim it. One man’s life for a lifetime of peace is a reasonable price. I can’t reject an alliance to uncertainty, no matter how I wish I could.”

  “So that is your stance?” I was shaking so hard my teeth gnashed together. “You are just going to let an innocent man die? You two were friends. You were willing to marry him—”

  Her eyes held my own. “Darren’s not innocent, Ryiah. He might regret his crimes, but he still committed them.”

  “Only because of his brother!” My heart slammed my ribs, again and again. “You know that!”

  The girl looked to my brother and Ella. “I know she’ll want to see him. You can take Ryiah, but the guards will have to remain for the visit.”

  “I didn’t give my life just to watch him die again!”

  “I’m sorry,” Priscilla’s sharp apology cut through my screams, “but that is the best I can do.” Somewhere behind us there was the rustle of chainmail as her guard approached. “Alex, Ella, please escort her out. My men will send word to the dungeon that you are expected.”

  “Priscilla!”

  “So long as she doesn’t cause a disturbance or any sort of attempt on his guards, Ryiah will be welcome at all hours leading up to his execution.”

  “You are no better than Blayne if you do this!”

  She finally looked at me. “I am, but you’ve put me in an impossible position.”

  “But… it’s Darren.” Tears slipped down my face.

  “I know. And for that, I am sorry, Ryiah. I truly am.”

  * * *

  When we entered the prison’s hall, there were ten scowling mage guards awaiting our arrival—all of them from our former mission in Caltoth.

  The rebels were definitely displeased to see me again.

  “Weapons!” barked the one nearest. “All of ‘em.”

  I gave them a challenging stare. I was leaning heavily on my brother, dressed in a flimsy white gown for sleeping with a giant bandage that constricted my ribs. I couldn’t carry a weapon if I tried.

  Alex tossed his scabbard to the ground; his eyes remained locked on the knight from earlier. He still hadn’t forgiven the rebels for trying to bury his sister alive.

  Ella dropped her scabbard next, and two concealed knives that were tucked around her ankles. She then disposed of another pair strapped to her upper arms; she did so with a smirk, waggling her fingers. “What a shame you can’t take my magic, boys.”

  “You try anything—”

  “Simmer down.” She rolled her eyes. “It was a joke.”

  Their expressions were humorless as stone.

  It wasn’t a surprise that Priscilla and the others only trusted rebels to guard a former king… I wondered if they wished I were dead. Then I could be their fallen hero instead of a troublemaker to the Crown.

  Ian wasn’t among them, but the rebels probably didn’t trust him that much either.

  Kenan, an older man with close-cropped hair and squinty eyes, cleared his throat. “The queen has already given you a warning for conduct. We won’t hesitate to enforce it.”

  Alex opened his mouth to snarl a retort and Ella kicked his leg. “Shall we?”

  My eyes were locked on the door as two of the mages removed a heavy steel bar and turned their key.

  I couldn’t see anything inside.

  It was so dark.

  My muscles went lax as I recognized the stench within. Old urine and blood.

  It brought me back to the dungeons in Devon.

  A whimper escaped my lips. Darren.

  Ella and Alex didn’t bother to wait for their eyes to adjust. They marched me through the threshold as all but one of the guards followed us inside.

  We made it halfway when one of the guards lit a sconce.

  Then I saw him.

  The king was lying in a pool of crimson, his skin as pale as snow. Cuts and bruises mottled his skin. His hair was matted with sweat and dirt.

  One of his arms stuck out at a strange angle. There was a gaping wound in his leg, oozing blood and yellowing pus. His vest was in tatters and his boots were missing. His breeches were ripped and
stained red.

  His eyes were clenched shut as we entered.

  I didn’t realize I was screaming until Darren’s eyes flew open and the guards started to yell.

  “Who did this?”

  No one answered.

  “Which one of you did this?” I couldn’t breathe; hot blood boiled in my veins and all I could see was red. “Was it all of you? Was it?”

  “He deserves far worse—”

  I struggled and lunged, breaking free of my brother and Ella’s grip. I caught the smug rebel with my fist, and the two of us went down with my hands locked around his neck.

  “Ryiah!” Alex and Ella tried to pull me away.

  But I wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t. Every part of me was in flames.

  The mage’s dirty fingernails cut into my wrists, drawing blood, but I just squeezed harder. All I could think about was hurting this man like he hurt Darren.

  And then his magic hit.

  I slammed against the wall with a thud. Every part of my body roared with hot, blistering pain. There was a snap in my chest and I was choking, spewing blood.

  My hand shot out in front of my face.

  I would make him pay. I would make him experience every cut and blow.

  …But nothing came.

  Something was wrong. I tried again.

  I couldn’t feel it.

  It was usually there, bubbling just underneath the surface, waiting… But this time, it wasn’t.

  This time, my magic was gone.

  My brother’s face appeared in my line of vision, his mouth opening and closing rapidly as his fingers brushed my head.

  There was a flash of green, and then everything stopped. I was dizzy and numb; I couldn’t feel my own arms. A warm rush of relief slipped down through my skin, and then my eyelids fluttered shut.

  The rest of my body followed.

  * * *

  The next time I awoke, I was back in the chamber from before. Alex slouched on a trunk at the side of my bed, his head nodding off as he slept, fingers still locked tight around my wrist.

  There was a splitting ache in my head and my whole body trembled so violently I wanted to fall straight back to sleep. But I was too busy remembering everything from before. My heart started to beat heavily against my chest.

  “Darren!” I choked out his name and lurched forward, only to fall back in pain.

  Alex jerked awake. Almost immediately, green sparks danced along my wrist.

  “Ryiah—” my brother’s voice was stern, “—you can’t do that again.”

  He wasn’t talking about now.

  My hands trembled under the pulse of his magic. “Darren wasn’t just their prisoner, Alex. They were beating him. He looked—”

  “I know.” A lump rose and fell against my twin’s throat. “But if you do it again, Priscilla won’t let you back.” He swallowed. “You attacked a guard, Ry.”

  “I lost control.”

  “Ella spent hours convincing Priscilla you deserved a second chance. If you hadn’t pulled back on that casting—”

  I gulped, suddenly remembering that moment before he cast me to sleep. “I didn’t pull back, Alex.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “My magic… it wouldn’t come.”

  “But you’ve had over two weeks of rest.” My twin’s eyes were wide. “You might not have your stamina from before, but you should be able to cast something.”

  I lifted my palm from the blankets and concentrated, throwing every sense into the projection I was trying to cast. A minuscule flame. Something a novice could accomplish with ease.

  Nothing happened.

  Alex said nothing. His eyes locked to my palm as I squinted and tried again. A bead of sweat dripped down my forehead, but nothing else came.

  After a couple minutes, I dropped my hand. My head hurt, but there was no blinding ache the way it usually felt after trying a casting when my stamina was too low.

  No ache. No magic.

  Whatever I’d once had, it was gone.

  “Do you think it’s because of your last stand?”

  “Maybe.” I didn’t know. A knot twisted in my gut. “Did it happen to Darren?”

  “With the condition they’ve kept him in, no one would know.” Alex’s voice lowered to a whisper. “If he can’t, Ry, do you know what this means?”

  My fingers twisted in my lap.

  Alex scooted closer. “When the two of you each cast your last stand, you canceled out death, so the casting took something else.”

  “Our magic.” I knew it was true as soon as I said it aloud. It was the only reason we were alive. It was the reason I felt nothing when I tried to cast, not even an ache.

  “There is no record in the books, so there would be no way to know for certain.” His brows furrowed. “You might just take longer to recover your stamina.”

  “It’s been two weeks. There’s nothing there. If there was, I would feel it.”

  For a moment, there was only silence. Neither of us knew what to say, but I was too busy remembering that dungeon to mourn the loss of my magic.

  “What do we do?”

  “The rebels won’t hurt Darren again. Priscilla gave Ella her word I could treat the worst of his wounds so long as he keeps the rest to please Horrace.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “You can see him.” Alex’s eyes were somber. “You can see Darren and be with him now. And every day we will plead his case to Priscilla. It’s all we can do.”

  It isn’t enough.

  20

  When we entered the Keep’s dungeon, I didn’t scream. I wanted to, but I didn’t.

  The guards were still there, watching me. I refused to acknowledge them. The only one I bothered to share contact with was the one I’d attacked. Kiefer was sporting a bloody lip. For a second, I felt a sliver of something other than despair, but then it was gone.

  I was standing in front of Darren’s cell. The guards weren’t concerned with a potential escape. Darren’s wrists and ankles were attached to manacles on chains.

  They unlocked the bars.

  I tried not to stare at the prisoner’s blistered skin, rubbed raw from every time he shifted in place. There was a bucket in the far corner—empty. Priscilla must have ordered it changed after my first visit, but the stench was still enough to water my eyes.

  Darren’s eyes were half-closed, his chest rising and falling as he slumped against the bars. This time, he was sitting up—barely—and I could see blood seeping through his rags.

  A cry rose up deep inside. Darren.

  I knelt down beside the fallen king and my chemise puddled at my feet. Alex and Ella helped me adjust. It didn’t matter, not when this boy was in front of me, slowly fading away in his cell.

  I placed a trembling hand to his wrist, doing my best to fight the knot in my lungs.

  “Ry…iah.” Darren’s voice was rough and unused. I could hear how much it pained him to speak.

  “I’m here.” I didn’t want him to see me cry; I needed to be strong.

  Ella placed a calming hand on my back. “We brought Alex here to help, Darren. He’s going to treat some of your wounds.”

  My brother knelt. “What hurts the most?”

  Darren’s lips were white as he bit out the words. “No… need.”

  Alex looked to me, and my nails dug into my thigh until it burned. “Darren,” I croaked, “please.”

  For a moment, the king didn’t speak. Then he drew a sharp breath and shut his eyes. “My… chest.”

  Alex splayed five fingers across Darren’s ribs, and the king’s face went ashen and pale. Something burned in my lungs. Whatever the guards had done, it hurt a great deal, much more than he let on.

  “I’m going to do my best,” Alex murmured, “but Priscilla only wants me to see to the worst of it. If I do too much—”

  “I… understand.” Darren’s face contorted as the first spark of green seeped in under his skin, but still, he held strong.<
br />
  I didn’t realize I was shaking until I felt the pad of a callused thumb against my wrist. I started, and the king smiled, his lips cracked and red.

  “You’re… still alive.”

  My heart stammered in my chest. “I was your l-last stand?”

  Darren’s eyes held my own, and I saw a thousand different emotions at once. His answer bespoke everything I had wondered those last few minutes in the cave. All those things left unsaid.

  My fingers locked on his wrist. “You were mine.”

  The king’s smile fell away. “Shouldn’t… have.”

  “In a week…” My voice caught as I read the set of his jaw. Darren already knew. “I’m g-going to stop it.” My voice was hoarse and desperate. “Priscilla is queen. I’ll f-find a way to convince h-her.”

  Darren didn’t say anything, just stared out at the wall.

  “You d-don’t believe me.”

  “I’m not…” The king’s jaw worked as he tried again. “I’m… not… a hero… love.”

  Don’t save me, I could read it in his eyes.

  Something stabbed at my lungs, twisting until they bled.

  I opened my mouth just as Darren’s hand fell away, his shoulders convulsing violently against the bars of his cell.

  Ella helped me shift as Alex took over my spot. Not all healings were painless. Sometimes they got worse before they got better.

  My fingers scratched across stone, inches from Darren’s own. I wanted to touch him so badly it hurt.

  When it finally stopped minutes later, the king slumped against the wall; he couldn’t even lift his head.

  I leaned in closer, but Darren’s eyes remained shut, clenched tightly against the pain. “Darren?” I’d never seen him like this, not even in the cave.

  “He has to rest.” My brother gripped my arm. “And so do you. Ella can get you a healer upstairs.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Ryiah—”

  “I said no, Alex!”

  My brother dropped his hand. Then he looked to his wife.

  “Ella,” he said, “can you get a second healer?”

  The girl nodded and left.

  It was a half hour later when she returned.

  There was a knock at the door, and one of the guards went to open it, peering out at the people on the other side. There was a low murmur as the three exchanged words and then the guard stepped aside.