“Oh, I will!” Amelia sped toward the main doorway with Philippe following close behind. As I watched them leave, an odd sense of foreboding settled into my bones. I couldn’t help feeling like it was the last time I’d see either of them.
30
The moment Philippe and Amelia stepped away I squirmed in Rowan’s arms. “I’m feeling better. I can walk by myself.”
Suddenly, the ballroom began to shake worse than ever before. Before us, the floor tiles erupted as a huge stone shape broke through. I gasped as I realized what was coming.
The gateway.
The Tsar was lifting the archway up. It burst forth from the lower dungeons to rest on a cloud of purple magick. This was hybrid power, yet again. My mouth fell open. I’d never heard of a spell that could do anything like this. What else was the Tsar’s hybrid magick capable of?
I pulled the vortex watch from my pocket. The dials on the watch face were spinning fast.
6 p.m.
Noon.
11 a.m.
3 a.m.
It was happening. The Tsar was draining the power of my people.
The purple mist cleared to show the Tsar standing in the center of the archway. His body appeared so still, it looked like he was caught in a stasis spell. After that, he began speaking the words to an incantation. All the blood drained from my face. I knew what that spell was.
An imploder spell. The Tsar was going to destroy part of the castle.
I gripped Rowan’s arm. “Get down!”
Rowan pulled me to him as he crouched on the floor. Angling himself away from the Tsar, Rowan held my back against his chest, his body shielding me from the upcoming spell.
Purple-colored smoke filled the air. More hybrid magick. The haze was so thick I could hardly breathe, let alone see anything. A series of deafening booms sounded. The ground shook beneath us. I couldn’t see anything past the purple smoke, but I could hear plenty. Wood snapping. Stone cracking. A heavy wind swept past us. A red dome of power surrounded both Rowan and me.
I let out a relieved breath. Rowan had cast a shield spell.
Even so, the magickal protection didn’t stop the wind from howling around us. It was like a tornado. How could that happen inside the castle? The gales roared louder than ever before. Then everything fell quiet. Rowan’s shield spell vanished. A heavy purple fog covered everything. The very air seemed to press in around me.
Little by little, the mist cleared.
The castle was gone. Only the flooring remained. I scanned father afield. As the clouds shifted, I could see more. Moonlight fell across what had once been the garden.
Every last tree and shrub had been leveled.
My breathing came in shallow gasps. That should have been impossible. At their worst, imploder spells might tear up the ballroom. I’d never heard of one taking out a whole league of territory. I yanked the vortex watch from my pocket. The time was back to the first hour. It was empty.
The Tsar had drained all the power thousands of Necromancers.
And I had failed.
Despite the solid feel of Rowan behind me, I began to tremble.
My mind turned into a blank slate of shock. Moving away from the comfort of Rowan’s arms, I forced myself to stand despite my wobbly legs. My right knee still shot through with a pain whenever I put any weight on it. Rowan stayed at my side, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist. Some small part of me wanted to tell him to stop touching me. Most of me was glad he was still here, even if it did put him in danger.
I scanned the settling debris, looking for a safe path to escape. We needed to get out of here.
The clouds shifted again, allowing more moonlight to fall on what was once the Montagne castle. The place was nothing more than rubble.
And the Fantomes were here.
About twenty of them stood at the far end of what was once the ballroom. They looked tall and elegant in their dark robes, pale faces gleaming in the moonlight. They all stared at Rowan and me. None made a move to speak or attack.
They were waiting, same as we were.
The Tsar stepped out from under the gateway and walked straight toward us. Not good. The man looked just how I remembered from our last battle: tall and broad-shouldered with a whip-strong body and long black hair tied back with a leather strap. He scanned the grounds, his amber-colored eyes seething with hatred.
“I remember both of you.” The Tsar glared at me. “Especially you. Now, thanks to our good friend the Vicomte, I have the power to deal with the pair of you properly.” He raised his hands to chest level. A shifting purple sphere appeared between his palms. I’d never seen anything like it—sharp cords of bone were laced through with writhing red serpents.
The Tsar lowered his hands, and the violet ball sped straight for Rowan. I quickly cast a bone shield and tossed it to Rowan, who knelt behind its protection.
The sphere slammed into the shield, splitting it in two before smashing into Rowan. He fell flat on his back. After a second or two, I expected him to stand up again. After all, it was only one volley and Rowan was a strong warrior.
But Rowan didn’t move. I raced to his side. Something was wrong. Rowan looked deathly pale. I inspected his skin, seeing a crimson snake latched onto his throat. Poison. I ripped the serpent away and tossed it aside.
I needed to cast a spell of healing before the poison took too great a hold. I lifted my left hand, trying to pull fresh power into me. Rowan had saved my life. Whatever else happened between us, I couldn’t allow him to die.
A rush of power sped into me just as rough hands grabbed me from behind. My flow of Necromancer energy stopped. I looked at the hands restraining me. Blue mist danced across the man’s skin.
This was a Fantome, and he’d cast some spell to block my magick. Bastard. I tried to pull power into myself, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t even possible to set loose the power I’d been able to gather.
An idea appeared. The bone crawlers. All of the Tsar’s followers had one of those creatures inside them. If I could get my hands on one, then I’d have access to hybrid power, too.
And I’d kill the Tsar once and for all.
As the Fantome held me from behind, the Tsar strode toward me, the lines of his face still tight with fury. “You were the ones who sent me to exile. You’ll pay.”
I lifted my chin. “Your kind of evil doesn’t belong here.”
The Tsar’s eyes narrowed with cool rage. Something in what I’d said hit a sore spot. His hands balled into fists. “You think me evil?”
“You’re killing all my Brothers and Sisters. That’s the definition of evil.”
“You have it all wrong.” The Tsar stalked closer, and I could see the thin spider web of scars over his elegant features. “In truth, we’re a lot alike.” His voice lowered. “I know that you’ve killed Fantomes, little girl.”
“That was different.”
“We both think we know what’s best for the magick of our kind. I happen to believe that a small number of Necromancers must wield all the power in order for us to survive. You think it’s best strewn out across the masses. But what happens when a plague strikes or a civilization falls? The weak die. Those who survive are the strongest. I am doing the same. Sacrificing the weak so those who remain will be strong as the gods themselves.” He raised his fist. “That is true power and security. That is actual goodness.” A sneer twisted his mouth. “You save lesser creatures and call it a boon to the realm. Meanwhile, I perfect us for the ultimate battle.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was all some kind of blood purge to create an ultimate mage. “Who do you think you’re battling? The realm was peaceful before you arrived.”
The Tsar chuckled. “You have no idea what is coming, little girl. This is the only way we will survive.”
My mouth fell open with shock. He was clearly insane. That meant I needed a bone crawler and fast.
I scanned my surroundings, searching for any way to escape. In every
direction, stacks of rubble stretched off into the night. Plus, the Fantome behind me still held me firmly in place. All the other Fantomes stood unmoving, their dark robes shifting in the soft breeze.
A face in the crowd slowly came into clearer focus. It was familiar. A spark of hope lit inside me. This was the mage that Quinn had possessed for me. The Tsar must have set them all free without knowing what I’d done. I locked gazes with him across the darkness and tilted my head slightly. Are you still in control, Quinn?
He gave me the slightest nod. Yes.
My heart beat with such force I thought it might burst. A plan quickly formed in my mind.
Please, let this work.
I tilted my head back, exposing my bare shoulder. I hoped that was enough to convey what I needed. Bone crawler.
Quinn frowned. Using his pointer finger, he outlined the shape of a V on his shoulder. After that, he shook his fingers slightly, like the legs of a bone crawler.
I gave him the barest of nods. Yes, that’s what I want. All the bone crawlers made a V shape on the mage’s shoulder.
Quinn made no more signs but hiked over the rubble as he approached the Tsar. “I know this girl, my master. Allow me to show you her weakness.”
“Go on.”
Quinn stepped toward me while whispering an incantation. I’d heard ones like these before. A spell of release. It could be used to free my tongue so I’d share all my secrets.
Or it could be used to free a bone crawler. Clever Quinn.
I anxiously scanned the other Fantomes. The ones who knew I could use a bone crawler for power were already dead. Would the others figure out what was happening?
All the Fantomes stayed still in the moonlight. If they knew what was about to take place, none of them informed their Tsar.
Yes, yes, yes.
Quinn paused to stand between the Tsar and me. More cleverness. With the Tsar behind him, Quinn’s movements would be hidden in shadow. When this was all over, I vowed to hate Quinn a little less.
Quinn set his hand against his neck, drawing a dark line that was still hidden in the shadows. All the muscles in my body tensed, ready to act. I’d seen a Fantome take out his bone crawler before. Only a few more seconds, and I’d have Quinn’s creature and its hybrid magick at my call. My breaths came in short gasps.
The bone crawler began to wiggle out. My stomach churned with disgust, yet my head felt light with joy.
So close.
The Tsar stepped forward. His brows lifted as he saw Quinn’s bone crawler wriggling free. Quick as lightning, the Tsar pulled a dagger from the folds of his black cloak and jammed the blade through Quinn’s neck.
“No!” I cried.
Quinn crumpled forward onto the ground, moaning. For a moment, I saw a glowing, spectral face appear above the mortal one. Quinn mouthed two words. I’m sorry.
Here it is. Another failure.
I knew my plan to get a bone crawler was tricky at best, but at least it was something. Now, what were my options? How could I fight a mage who was this powerful… Especially when he had access to hybrid magick and I did not?
The Tsar stepped up to Quinn’s dead body, yanked out the dagger, and wiped off his bloody blade on his robes. “I’d suggest no more attempts at murder or escape. It’s tiresome. I had a lot of time to contemplate how things went wrong before. There was only one way you could have activated your hybrid magick. My bone crawlers. Well, with the power of all the Necromancers now concentrated in my soul, I don’t need those insects to control my people anymore. And the need to round up mages for draining is over as well. So let’s get rid of that little temptation, shall we?”
I wanted to threaten to pound elegant face into dust. Somehow, I managed to keep quiet, however.
The Tsar raised his hands again. A ball of purple fire appeared between his palms. He looked down into the sphere of flame. “Destroy all the bone crawlers in my entourage.” The fire shot out from his grasp, bouncing from Fantome to Fantome. Each time it reached someone, some of the flames burrowed inside their shoulders.
The result of the spell was nothing less than disgusting. My stomach heaved as the bone crawlers crept out of their hosts. The Fantomes watched in on in shocked silence as the bone crawlers tumbled to the ground, their exoskeletons glowing as they burned up from the inside out. None of the Fantomes moved. Within seconds, the bone crawlers had all turned to dust.
The Tsar turned to the Fantomes. “My beautiful entourage. I can see worried looks on some of your faces. I’m a gracious man. Rest assured, my magick will keep you alive and bound to me. I’ve no plans to kill you.”
Somehow, I didn’t believe him.
As the Fantomes murmured their thanks, hopelessness pressed in around me. The bone crawlers were my plan to activate hybrid power. That wasn’t possible, so I tried once more to pull regular Necromancer energy into me. The Fantome who held me still had me blocked. Gods-damn it.
The Tsar rounded on me again. “You told me once that you were trained by Petra. If so, then she did a horrible job of it. I can read your emotions easier than a child’s.”
My gaze fell on Rowan’s unmoving body. A shudder rolled across my shoulders. I’d never seen the man so pale and lifeless.
Still, I swallowed past the knot of grief in my throat. I had to focus on the success that had already come from my mission. Yes, the Tsar had me. He could kill me. And it was likely that he’d already murdered Rowan. But Ada and the others were safe. Rowan said his people had taken care of them. I’d saved the last of the free Necromancers.
I forced my face into a mask of calm once more. As long as the Tsar was wasting time with me, he wouldn’t be going after my friends.
The Tsar rubbed his square chin. “You think your little Necromancer friends are safe, don’t you?”
His words struck me like knives. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“They’re done for, you know.”
I worked hard to keep my features calm. He was lying. Had to be.
The Tsar snapped his fingers. “Bring forth our audience. It’s time Elea saw her admirers.”
More Fantomes stepped out of the darkness. My knees turned rubbery as I saw who they brought with them. The Fantomes had bound and gagged all the freed Necromancers. They shuffled along in a lopsided line, most of them barely conscious. It seemed even more cruel for them to be bound and gagged, when they struggled to stand upright.
My eyes burned with held-in tears. Ada and Veronique were there, too. They both looked pale. Fresh cuts dripped blood from their arms and legs. Angry bruises covered their faces. Grief weighed down my soul.
No, not Ada and Veronique.
More figures stepped forward. This time, the Fantomes led the Creation Casters. Rowan’s guard. They were bloodied, gagged, and chained in a long row.
Gods-damn it. There’s no way we can survive this.
The Tsar gestured around him. “Now, this if what I call true beauty. A Royal house smashed to rubble. My enemies chained and near death.” He rounded on me. “And my greatest foe about to die.”
I lifted my chin. “If you’re going to do it, do it. I’m right here.”
“Ah, now that’s the tricky part, isn’t it? Didn’t you ever wonder why the Sire and Lady had you put me into exile instead of murder me outright?” The Tsar lifted his dagger and rested it again my cheek. I tried to fight my way free. The Fantome behind me still held me tightly, though.
So this is it. Torture. Just like the Vicomte. I won’t let him see me weep.
I forced my features into a semblance of calm as the Tsar slowly cut a line down my cheek. Pain burned down my skin… Until I saw what was happening to the Tsar. A line of blood appeared on his face as well. Shock rolled through me. I couldn’t focus on anything outside of the red mark on the Tsar’s skin.
“That’s a trick.”
“No, that’s a fact. Our magick is too similar. Whenever I try to hurt you, I hurt myself. Which is why I can’t destroy you,
but I could send you into exile.” He tapped his chin as if seriously considering this option. “But I won’t.” He raised his dagger again. “Instead, I’ll ask one of your own to do the honors.” He pointed at Veronique. “Bring her here.”
Veronique barely stood upright in her rags, with her head lolling from side to side. I flashed an angry look at the Tsar. “Leave her be.”
“Oh, I can’t do that. Someone besides myself must be your executioner.”
A pair of Fantomes dragged Veronique over to stand before me. One of them roughly pulled the gag from her mouth. Up close, Veronique looked deathly pale and bleary-eyed, a faint shell of the fierce girl she’d once been.
The Tsar stalked over to her. “Do you understand what I want you to do, girl?”
Her voice was a harsh rasp. “Yes.”
The Tsar cut loose Veronique’s hands and set the dagger onto her palm. “Then slit her throat while the others watch.”
Across the darkened rubble, Ada fell onto her knees, her face streaked with tears.
So much time. All my work. And now, Ada would watch me die, right before the Tsar killed her, too.
I locked gazes with Veronique. If I was about to die with an audience, at least I could do it with dignity. “Go on.”
“I can’t.” Veronique looked to the Tsar, her heads wide and pleading. “You forgot something.”
The Tsar sniffed in disgust. “What could I have possibly have missed?”
Veronique’s gaze turned sly. Her stance straightened despite her battered body. She mouthed six words so I only I could see them.
I still have a bone crawler.
My eyes widened as I realized the truth. Mother Superior had put a bone crawler in all my new Sisters right before they left the Midnight Cloisters, Veronique included. The Tsar was so concerned with his all-powerful Fantomes he must have forgotten.
Voices rose among the Fantomes. I recognized more of the ones I’d possessed starting toward us at a run. They were trying to help by causing a distraction. The Tsar swung around to face them. “What’s all this?”
Acting with a speed I hadn’t thought possible, Veronique lifted the knife to her shoulder, sliced a line in her skin, and tore out the creature. She dropped the wriggling bone crawler into my hands.
Concealed Special Edition Page 26
