Meghan aimed her fire directly at her father with reckless abandon. The Grosvenor attacked back with extreme ferocity—with one eye still pinned on Colin.
Nope. Meghan needed her father focused on anything, but.
"I thought you needed me alive," she goaded. "You can't make your new weapon without me." There was no playing the, hey, I'm your daughter, angle. So she'd go with the, hey, I'm your magical conduit, angle.
Another layer of doubt piled on top of the fury. Fazendiin's nostrils flared as the truth smacked him in the head—Colby. The hormonal idiot had told her. There wasn't anyone else who knew, other than his murdered Queen.
"Plans change," he barked back at her. He had a son that could just as easily become a conduit, or a King. His current actions leaning toward the first option.
Fazendiin's attack did not relent, and neither did hers. Sebastien and Ivan assisted, pummeling spells from opposite sides. Even Nona got in on the action by darting between the rubble, running up a ramp-like chunk of fallen stone, and launched herself into the air. Fazendiin believed she meant to go for his face and when his hands went up to block her with a spell, she maneuvered to his outstretched hand and bit and scratched him, hard.
He cried out in the moment of unexpected pain and tossed the Catawitch mercilessly.
Meghan didn't breathe until she saw Nona's paws stirring. She hadn't used up another of her lives, only been knocked down hard.
"Don't stop," Nona encouraged breathlessly.
CHAPTER 28
Juliska gazed so deeply into her son's eyes, she swore she reached the very depths of his damaged soul.
"Colin—I need you to hear me. This one time, hear me speak to you as your mother. You are better than this. You are better than me. You can fight this darkness. And—And—I—love you. Your father—loves you." She leaned in and pressed her lips to the cooled skin on his forehead. The first and last time she'd ever do that to her nearly grown son.
She released him. Spun around in a rush of frenzied flame and fury that surged directly at her target.
Meghan, Sebastien, and Ivan fell backward as a wall of flame in the form of Juliska Blackwell thrust itself in a direct hit right at Fazendiin. It came out of nowhere and he had no time to react. Juliska wasted no time and held no hesitation. There wasn't room for these things.
Colin faltered, his legs buckling. His lips twitched, some thought trying to break through the magical fervor vying for control. That voice… whose was that voice? Who loved him?
Juliska reached down and grasped the Grosvenor's throat, opened her mouth with a vicious snarl, and let her own power free. Her inner vampyre sucking and drawing out his life force, into herself.
The pure unexpected shock of the move cost him. He gasped, and flailed, trying to free himself. Colin might not have been able to penetrate his magic, or his body, because of the Projector's bones inside of him, but the others, working together, had weakened and caught him off guard enough for Juliska to attack with all she had.
Considering his age, Fazendiin was powerful. Juliska expected nothing less. But the act was a perversion—a rule not meant to be broken.
As his aged life force burned its way into her veins, it did not give her strength or add to her life. It was a crime against nature for one vampyre to suck out the life force of another. It would not offer additional life. Only add to the poison she'd allowed to live inside her all these years. And burn up her own life force in the doing of it.
And disappointingly, it would not kill the man. Only weaken him.
There wasn't enough of his true Vetala power left to do any permanent damage. He was stronger than the other Grosvenor; again, she expected nothing less. But he was not impenetrable, and he was learning that lesson tonight in an unforgettable manner.
If she could suck out all the life force he had left, it would leave him vulnerable and in need of recovery—it would give them time to destroy the Stone and end his reign. And most importantly, give her son another chance. A chance at a normal life—not one shrouded in manipulation, lies, and darkness.
Juliska gagged, gasped, and staggered.
She'd taken in as much as possible.
Jurekai Fazendiin keened and lurched drunkenly, eyes rolling around in his head, arms flailing for someone who wasn't there, and moaning something incompressible.
Doors blasted open. Stripers invaded the rooftop.
They ignored the threesome hovering in the background, watching almost petrified, as events unfolded. Their King, their connection to life, looked near death. Their Queen—actually dead. One of them nodded to the others and two of them swiftly removed the dead Gavriella's body. The rest raced to Fazendiin's rescue.
Colin was on his knees, lungs heaving in a deep inner struggle.
Juliska Blackwell staggered backwards, eyes fixed on her son.
Meghan shook herself to life, the young men next to her too. Fight—they needed to fight. But it was already too late, the Stripers were popping off the rooftop, one by one, taking their King and dead Queen with them. Her father was gone. Weakened. Battered. But not broken.
There was no time to process what had just happened.
A rattled sort of quiet slithered across the pavilion, spreading out across the island. The battle was finished, for today. But it was—unsettled. Unfinished. There was no solace in the silence that followed.
Meghan darted in between the debris to find Colin. The others followed, Ivan and Sebastien mumbling something between themselves, but she didn't tune in. They reached Colin and stopped a few feet away. He was kneeling with his head bent low, muttering something.
Was it him? Really him?
Or just some temporary lull in the madness trying to claim him?
Their gazes cast out beyond him—where Juliska, ex-Banon, fallen Queen, mother… struggled to remain upright. She'd taken in enough of Fazendiin's life force to weaken him, greatly, but it would consume her from the inside out in the process.
Colin's mother removed her gaze from him and regarded the others.
"In a moment, the evil I created will no longer be bonded to me." It was the final merciful thing she could do. Release the Scratchers, remove their power. That evil had to die with her—all but one. Jae Mochrie. She eyed the young trio. "Jae is off this world. The beast will remain inside of him, but he'll not have to fear it, or me, ever again."
She cast one last study of her son, who'd lifted his head, but only stared at her in a daze. Her words emblazoned at the front of his mind. I love you. Spoke with the unconditional love only a mother could have for a child. Words that had shattered into the depths of his darkness, cutting open a path back to the light.
His mouth opened to speak but the words wouldn't come. He pushed harder, a sense that he had only seconds to get the words out. Only seconds to tell her—"I don't hate you." It slipped across his lips. Seemingly bringing some coherence into his mind. He climbed to his feet and directed himself toward his mother. "I don't hate you." It pushed out of him like a repetitive agony that had been lost in some deep forest only now to appear at the edge and reveal itself. "I don't hate you."
She gave her son a final smile that condemned his words—she'd never deserve them. Juliska turned away from them and didn't look back.
He was here with her. Her ghost. Arms outstretched, waiting for her.
Colin Edward Gillivray, hovering at the precipice of the fortress as if he'd expected this all along. It was the only acceptable outcome.
Golden streaks lit the horizon—they'd finally get their sunrise union missed so many years ago. Not the beginning of a new life together. But a forever, death.
She could not live with what she'd done. Death would find her soon anyway. But she deserved this death. This fate. It was only right, and fair. And with her end, all the evil she'd created would end, with her.
Dark shadowed silhouettes loomed ominously across the island. Their outstretched killer wings aiming for their creator as Juliska called them to her,
one final time.
"I release you, Jae Mochrie." It carried out of her as she slicked across the pavilion in a fluid non-stop motion that carried her directly into the ghostly arms of her beloved and straight over the edge with a final promise on her breath.
"For our son."
"Always for our son," Eddy agreed.
CHAPTER 29
Colin shuddered.
Then shivered, like he was feeling the cold of winter for the first time.
He stared at the empty spot where his mother had just been, and now, was not.
His mind, a puzzle of pieces trying to put themselves in place. A broken connection to his book trying desperately to reconnect, only, it wasn't there.
That's right, his body had expelled it. Things were coming back to him, little by little.
The others gasped as hideous screams erupted into the early morning sky. Breaking through the ominous silence that had encroached them all when the battle had finished.
Scratchers…
No longer able to hold the form because their creator was dead.
Juliska Blackwell was dead.
The magic was broken, and the blood bond carried her creations into death, with her.
The silence returned, with less of the ominous, and more of the bittersweet etched into it. It was difficult to know how to feel. It was a win. And yet it wasn't.
Meghan wiped her eyes. The young men didn't bother hiding that they had to do the same. Even with this victory, there was no happy ending. There was no happily ever after.
Even if they'd somehow managed to destroy the Immortality Stone and remove Fazendiin from power, it wouldn't have fully felt like a victory. There were so many losses that could never be recouped.
Not just the deaths. But the innocence lost in the throes of battle.
Another hard truth they had to accept—war was brutal. There might be a winner in the end, but really, no one ever truly won it all. There would always be losses—even bittersweet ones.
Their hearts were heavy with the unfairness of it all.
They jumped when out of the blue, Jasper appeared atop the wreck of a pavilion—out of breath and looking a little worse for wear. His eyes glossed across the scene with a lifted eyebrow. "I see you had about as much fun as we did."
"What happened down there?" asked Sebastien. Meaning—is everyone okay?
He nodded and waved his hand to indicate all was okay, but didn't extrapolate, instead, his attention fixed on Colin. He hadn't taken his eyes off the spot his mother had been.
Until a second later his legs were pushing him to the spot and he was about to look down over the edge, and—a powerful grasp stopped and spun him around.
"You can't bring her back."
Colin eyed Jasper unwilling to believe him.
Live. Live. Live. Live. The demand repeated itself, drilling into the tendrils of his brain finally powering back to life.
Nothing happened.
Juliska Blackwell, his mother, the fallen Queen, did not come back from the dead.
"You cannot bring back a life that has been voluntarily and willingly sacrificed to save another. To undo sacrifice, is to undo all the good that came from that sacrifice."
"But I never had a chance to—" to what? Colin swayed a little. To tell her he didn't hate her? Those were his last words, but what else could he say? There was no time. He didn't even know her. Not the real her.
His mind struggled to process it all.
Jasper motioned for everyone to keep their distance. He needed to tread these waters carefully, so they didn’t end up right back where they'd started. Jasper took out Colin's second soul—he nodded, features forcing themselves to harden. He took the book and in another moment, he was reconnected. It didn't soothe his frayed nerves. It didn't give him any solace. And he found himself in a state of pure mental exhaustion. He let the second soul suck up all the thought he didn’t want in his head.
Meghan chewed her lips. There was absolutely no use for waterworks. Damp eyes was quite enough, thank you!
Colin was okay. He'd be okay now. She hadn't lost him. And he had not become the new evil. But he'd lost something precious in the process. And the reality of what nearly happened was going to burden him with regret.
"C'mon," Meghan muttered. She'd let Jasper do his thing. She didn't want to add to Colin's overwhelm and distress. And frankly, seeing him deal with the reality of it all was more than any of their already battered souls could handle.
She snapped out a flame and Nona took the group down to the ground below. Her Catawitch heard the need in Meghan's mind—some room to breathe. A moment to reconnect with her own thoughts—all that had gone down tonight—the job still looming ahead of her.
She wasn't ready to face anyone else yet and wanted to walk the long path back to the main island. Sebastien and Ivan didn't question the move. It felt right, to let the winter winds biting off the waves whip them back into some semblance of themselves.
They were still alive.
Colin wasn't lost.
They'd all live to fight another day, and that was the best they could make of this showdown. They plodded their way across the island in silence.
The Svoda's home had not fared well in the battle. There was a lot of damage, but it was repairable. With time. And magic, if Meghan succeeded in stopping her father from harvesting it all.
They made their way to the center of the island, where a group of somber and frazzled fighters were cleaning up the bodies of the dead—thankfully, not any of their own. Only the Scratchers who'd died when Juliska did. They were not able to kill any of the Stripers, seeing as they were immortal, but it looked as though the battle had been bloody. They'd done a lot of injuring to each other, from the gashes and bruises being healed. Nona jumped in to assist where she could—attending to the smaller injuries she was capable of healing. Sebastien and Ivan followed, assisting where they could.
Meghan stalled when she came across Billie—what to tell her? Her features demanded an answer.
"Colin is—okay." She shrugged, not even sure he was close to okay. Billie got it though, and in true Billie fashion simply gave Meghan a supportive pat on the arm and made her way to wherever she was heading.
A conjunctive gasp rippled all around her.
Her head lifted to a shocking development.
The dead, had in a moment's time, been securely wrapped up in cloth that had appeared out of nowhere, and were all lying in a row. Jasper had done it on their behalves, making quick, clean work of it all. Another wrapped body materialized a few feet away from the others—no need to guess who it belonged to when she saw Jasper and Colin materializing a short distance off.
As they approached, it was apparent that Colin had withdrawn into himself. He stayed in the distance, but didn't use any magic and Jasper hadn't cloaked him.
A great white wolf bounded out of the woods and shook itself into its human form—Nashua. He'd just returned along with a few others after a brief search of the island. It appeared that the enemy had fled.
He spotted Jasper and Colin and beelined it for them.
Meghan feared where this was heading. Colin was not welcome to return with them. But before the man could argue, Jasper spoke in a hushed voice with the Tunkapog leader, who stalled, grimaced, but caved with a nod that indicated some sort of disgruntled agreement had been reached. He spun around, returned to the rest, and addressed everyone.
"We will bring the dead with us," he explained firmly. This decision shocked them. "They may have died as enemies, but they were once family, to some. Friends to others. Their friends and families deserve to understand the truth for themselves. They deserve closure, on the lives lost."
There was a quiet acceptance of this. He was right—whether his own idea or Jasper's. But Nashua didn't budge and his stance expressed he wasn't done yet.
"Juliska Blackwell is among the dead."
More gasps. Soft cries. Bittersweet groans and sighs. They had all once love
d her. Some from long before, in their younger years. It was a difficult thing to lose all of that love, even for someone who'd done all the terrible things she'd done.
No. Tonight was no real victory.
Tonight, they'd bury the dead. They'd close one chapter. They'd emblazon this night into their history. But it wasn't finished, yet.
Meghan, gently, attempted to reach out to Colin, and although his block wasn't firm, he wasn't responding. Though the magic had released him, he wasn't himself. Heck, how could he be? She imagined the things he was thinking all revolved around personal blame, and shame—but there was also great sadness. Meghan could only assume over the loss of a mother he never knew. Had despised. And then somehow, had managed to forgive.
In the end, the blame belonged only with Jurekai Fazendiin. And he'd taken a serious blow. They'd have to act fast to take advantage of this.
Meghan wanted to say something to comfort her brother, but what more was there to say. An overwhelming agony wrenched through her gut and she gave up trying to speak to him and watched as Jasper motioned for him to get onto one of the boats. His mother's body was placed nearby, along with the other dead. He and Jasper were the first to leave. It gave Meghan some hope that Colin was being allowed to return at all.
That hope didn't last.
Nashua approached her.
"After speaking with Jasper, I have agreed to allow Colin to return long enough to bury his mother. I cannot make any promises after that." He moved to stride away, but stopped. "I'm sorry it must be like this. Truly, I am. But he is a danger I cannot permit so close to my people."
He continued toward a boat, assisting others still injured to get seated. They had stationed the boats in a small inlet that drifted into a shallow river on the island. One by one, the boats departed for Tunkapog lands.
Witnessing the bittersweet win as they prepared to leave the island brought a sense of urgency screeching back. That need for action that drove Meghan, hard, to do something. To confront her father. To find and destroy the Stone. So no one else had to suffer and lose anything, or anyone else, again.
The Queen, The Mirror, and The Creation (Fated Chronicles Book 5) Page 20
