They’d succeeded, but failed.
“We can’t stay in this,” Windrunner said. Being exposed to Obsidian’s power had turned Brinelle into a Tsenian. This magic was exponentially more powerful, darker than anything Windrunner had ever felt before. What would it to do them? “We have to get out of here!”
“We can’t leave it,” Brinelle said. She pointed to the swirling lights above them. They’d become even more chaotic, growing darker by the moment. Windrunner could feel the perversion the Shahadán’s magic was creating. “If we don’t stop that, it will Destroy this entire place. It will leak through the rifts and Destroy anything it touches. Our entire world is connected to the portal system, one way or another.”
“How can we stop it? We can’t just make it go away, and we’ve already proven we don’t have enough power to mend the magic.”
He couldn’t take a breath without it searing his lungs. His head pounded. He could feel the magic surging inside and out, darkness calling to darkness. It was filling him. It wouldn’t be long before it consumed him.
The entire mountaintop was wavering, as if the Shahadán’s magic was trying to unmake it. The light grew dimmer until he could only see by the glowing blue of the Remnant.
Windrunner looked down at the stone between them. It was still as solid as ever, resisting the corruption of the Shahadán’s magic. It glowed fiercely, as if it wasn’t just resisting. It was trying to fight back.
“Brinelle …” He didn’t look away from the Remnant. “What if we set the Remnant’s magic loose, too?”
She gave him the look he was all too familiar with by now.
“I know. I’m crazy. But would the Remnant’s Creation magic be strong enough to meld with the Destruction? If we released it, would the magics fuse like they did in us and become complete? There’s a lot more power in that stone than we could channel. Could it heal the magic?”
His heart raced. This was their only chance. If they didn’t act now, all their work would be for naught. Every victory empty. Even though they were already dead, the world would fall to the Shahadán.
“It could,” Brinelle said. “But it’s just as likely it would react badly.”
“How badly?”
“Catastrophic explosion, instant death for everyone.”
“Oh. Pretty badly, then.” He met Brinelle’s eyes. “Do we have a choice?”
She held his gaze for a moment. “No.”
There was no more reason to argue. There was no more time to.
Staves in hand, Windrunner and Brinelle stood opposite each other. The Remnant lay between them.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Brinelle said. She sounded like she was about to cry.
“Think about it this way,” Windrunner said. “This is the Creation magic left over from when those Varyah tried to extract the Destruction magic that made the Shahadán. We’re undoing that now. Reuniting them.”
She glared at him, clearly unconvinced.
“Just trying to help.”
She shook her head and lowered her gaze back to the Remnant. She heaved a sigh, closed her eyes, and nodded.
“All right.” Windrunner took a breath himself. “On three. One.”
Another deep breath. I’m sorry. He and Brinelle pulled their staves back, preparing to strike.
“Two.”
He paused to look at her. “I love you.”
She smiled weakly. “Remind me of that once we’re done here.”
He nodded. Looked back at the Remnant.
“Three.”
He swung with all the force he could muster. His crimson staff met the Remnant at the same time Brinelle’s white staff did. Wood struck stone, magic struck magic. Two Tsenian, one Varyah staff, one Evantar staff. The Remnant between.
The Remnant shattered with a sound like a gong, so loud the entire mountain trembled. Power flooded from the broken stone, Creation magic so potent Windrunner felt as if it would drive him mad. It rushed up toward the Destruction magic, crashing into it with such strength they were knocked from their feet.
It nearly knocked Windrunner off the mountain.
He skid along the smooth grey stone, scrambling for purchase. Anything to hold onto to keep him from falling thousands of feet to the plains below.
His head struck a rock. He slid to a stop just before everything went black.
PAIN. That’s all there was.
His head throbbed. His arm felt like it had re-broken. Every muscle in his body screamed at him. Even his magic was so exhausted he couldn’t reach it.
He just wanted to go back to sleep.
“Oh no you don’t,” a voice said. Brinelle. He felt hands beneath his shoulders, hauling him to a sitting position. He moaned and swore. That just made the pain sharper.
“Open your eyes, Windrunner.”
He mumbled something that hopefully resembled “no.”
“Windrunner.”
Her voice was kind, concerned, but firm. She wouldn’t accept no again.
He cracked his eyes open. Light lanced into his skull and he squeezed them shut. He tried again, blinking until he could handle the light pouring into his head.
Brinelle looked horrible. She was covered in half-congealed blood, bruises rising from everywhere on her body. Her long black hair was in tangles, dark circles rimmed her eyes.
He’d never seen a more beautiful sight.
He felt at the magic in the air. Would it still be chaotic Destruction magic?
He sensed the change like the first breeze carrying a hint of spring to a snow-covered field. It was subtle, but impossible to miss. It warmed him heart and soul. “Did we do it?” he asked.
She smiled. “We did it.”
Windrunner didn’t dare to breathe. They’d done it. The concept was so hard to grasp, like smoke from a fire. He feared if he let out his breath too fast, it would dissipate.
But no. This was the reality they had made—the Shahadán Destroyed, a whole magic Created. The Remnant lay in pieces, the colors that had been so alive dull and dead. It looked ordinary. Obsidian, Fi’ar, was dead. Windrunner sniffed the air. It was cool and clean, only the faintest trace of magic. It was warm and comforting, like a blanket on a cold morning. Tsenian magic.
Whole, complete magic.
They sat together on the mountaintop for a long time, resting. Basking in the feeling of a world that no longer needed to be saved. The weight off Windrunner’s shoulders was the best thing he’d felt in ages.
“Hey, Brinelle,” he said.
“I know. I love you too.”
She leaned against him, and he wrapped his arm around her.
No. This was the best thing he’d felt in ages.
After a long time—it could have been hours, or moments that felt like hours—he stood and looked over the plain. It was still a nightmarish landscape, but he no longer feared it. The truly scary things here were already gone.
They’d already beaten them.
Of course, the empty spot where the rift had been was pretty terrifying.
Windrunner’s shoulders sagged. He’d been afraid it wouldn’t survive Obsidian’s death. But how would they get home now?
On a whim, he focused his magic. Destroy a piece of this reality and Create a way home. Obsidian had been able to do it with his Varyah magic. Surely Windrunner’s Tsenian magic could handle it, too.
Compared to the battles they’d just fought, it was as easy as slicing cake.
He reached for her hand. “Time to go home.”
She hesitated. “Where’s that?”
Windrunner honestly didn’t know. Neither of them had a home anymore. But his parents were still out there. He could find them. He could return to them proud of what he’d done. A man with the strength to defend his home.
And there was still so much of the world to explore.
He smiled, taking her hand. “Wherever we’re together.”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brenda J. Pierson is just a nerd living her dream. Inspired by Brandon Sanderson and R.A. Salvatore, she writes fantasy novels brimming with magic, monsters, and epic quests to save the world. In addition to writing she’s an editor, dedicated bookworm, avid gamer, lover of tacos, and crazy cat lady. She’s living the good life with her husband and kitties in her hometown of Tucson, Arizona.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
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