In the midst of the power that raged out of him, his body twisted into a storm of movement that moved like a magnet of force that slammed to a sharp stop when his hands landed on the sides of his father's head.
Fazendiin may have his immortality thanks to the Stone, but he had no immunity to its power. Colby drew on the magic inside of the Stone, the magic that flowed like blood in his veins, and pushed that magic out of his palms into his father's skull. A power surge that would have fried any normal person's brain in seconds.
It was so much energy and power that Colby couldn't even hold the pose and was forced to release his grasp, staggering back from his father. Whose head was smoking like it might burst into flame. He gasped and choked and swayed, trying to regain his balance. He growled out his fury. His son would pay for his defiance.
"You're too late," Colby exhaled in total exhaustion. His eyes slid to his sister whose satisfied grin beamed down at her brother, almost as bright as the fiery veins lining her skin and the flame red hair waving around her neck. She sank to a crouch and let her palms lie flat on the rough surface, the power pulsing upward into her skin. Her eyes lifted to meet her father's scathing glare.
She'd reached the Immortality Stone.
CHAPTER 49
Catrina had awakened in the early dark of the morning to battle sounds and her family shouting for everyone to wake up. Her one and only worry—Colin. Her family was never going to allow her to go find him, so she'd done the only logical thing—tossed on some clothes and while the chaos had them all confused, she maneuvered through the crowds and got away. One benefit of being short… easier to escape and disappear. Although her silver hair was a dead giveaway at any height. And easier to see when it was dark, and the sun wasn't due up for a couple more hours yet.
War was breaking out all over the place and to avoid becoming a target she kept her small frame close to the houses, making her way to Colin's. She ducked and hid in the shadows whenever a familiar face flew by. And twice, was nearly hit by rogue spells breaking through from the distance.
She finally reached her destination and flew inside Colin's house—empty.
His room—empty.
The tropical room—empty.
She called out for him, repeatedly, or anyone that might be there. But no one answered.
Where would he go?
Had he left? Without her? Had he really left her behind?
Or worse, thrown himself into the middle of the battle…
Was he out there right now, using his magic to his own demise? If he was still stuck in the apathetic state he'd been in, she had no idea what any of them could expect. But then he'd probably not be out there fighting at all if that were the case.
"Where are you?" she murmured desperately.
Colin had not left the house.
He was a few feet away, sitting in a corner on the floor with his legs tucked up under his chin, hidden underneath his magical cloak. Not the pose of a sixteen-year-old powerful Projector, or the most powerful person alive, but one that a child would take when they were afraid and wanted to disappear.
And he was afraid. Of everything. Of everyone.
Mostly, of himself. Of hurting Catrina. Of hurting his friends.
Afraid of every uncontrolled thought or feeling, because not even those were safe.
He should never have been brought into this world, but there was no way to remove himself from it.
Meghan had seen his future. The evil he'd become. He'd torn it out of her memory, she hadn't wanted him to see it. But now that he had—what was the point of anything? Of even trying to be a good person, because it seemed it didn't matter. He was doomed regardless of his personal desires. Or values. Because he was also human, which meant he was imperfect, which to him and all others around him equaled, dangerous.
His inherent imperfections would turn him evil and destroy the world all those he loved were currently risking their lives to save. Perhaps he just needed to give in. Let fate take him where it will.
In Meghan's vision, she'd discovered some way to kill him.
And Catrina… he tossed that image out of his thoughts. Never Catrina. If he was going to choose to let fate claim him, it would only be him, not her. Never her. At least, not because of loving him.
He could end this war—yes, in the process he would start a new one—the world versus Colin Jacoby. But his sister would take him out in the end and all would be well. What other option was there? At least he could help, now, save as many lives as he could before darkness—fate—or whatever, claimed him.
They'd overthrow Jurekai Fazendiin and Colin would become the new evil. They'd just exchange one war for another. A cycle that could not be broken—there always had to be evil to fight, right?
This line of thought was making his skin crawl.
The pull of the magic churning inside of him was a pulse that deafened him.
It was screaming in his mind, prickling at his nerves, firing up in his veins—the very beat of his heart. Use me. Let me out. Let me take control…
The only problem being if Colin released it, there wasn't going to be any putting it back. Not this time. It was a one way open door that would never close. And it was inevitable that the door was going to open—he could not keep it closed forever.
So why try?
Why wait?
He had tried. So very hard.
Not to care. Not to think. Not to desire anything. Not to need anything.
But these were such mundanely human traits.
And outside of this house a war was raging and people were dying.
His sister was out trying to save the world—typical, and just like her.
And he was hiding like a coward in a dark corner—typical, and just like him.
And something that apparently was never going to change. The magic inside him no different than the bullies that had picked on him and taunted him over and over again. Except this time, no one, not even his sister could come to his rescue.
Well, if she managed to find a way to kill him—that was a sort of rescue. Albeit a depraved way out of this mess.
A shattering of glass and a soft scream jolted him into awareness.
Catrina… standing in the doorframe, staggering… blood.
She'd been hit by a spell that had broken through a window.
In a blink, Colin had the entire house hidden by the magical cloak and was at her side, catching her before she hit the floor. She gasped, blinking hard as blood pooled all over her stomach.
The thought burst out of him in a desperate attempt to save her, without a worry of any consequences—the problem with thoughts—they just happened. He demanded she be healed and another blink later, she gasped again, hands roaming across her stomach, in shock. It was all so fast and yet spun in her head like an age had passed. She'd almost died. And Colin hadn't left her after all.
She sat up and caught his face in her hands.
"I knew you were still here somewhere. I knew you wouldn't leave."
"Catrina, I—I don't know what to do. What to say. What to think. How to react to anything. How to feel, or not feel. Where I should be. I don't know—anything. When the magic takes over, I disappear. It does what it wants to. And it wants to use me. And it's trying so hard, to take over."
"It did what you wanted just now."
"But when too much of it comes out, I get pushed down into some dark place where I can't surface. Like I don't exist. Only the magic exists and it has a will of its own. I might have saved you today, but I'm just as likely to kill you tomorrow."
Catrina opened her mouth to argue the point, but how did she argue the terrible truth.
"I still love you," she told him instead.
"I know. But that is not enough," he admitted horridly. "I wish it was. Even Jasper knew a long time ago it might not be enough, but he didn't realize that when he made you promise to keep me in my place, it would not be in your power—or anyone's—to do so."
"You can
't give up, Colin."
"It's not giving up. It's—accepting what is." He leaned down and stroked her cheek. What Catrina saw there shattered the heart that had almost just stopped beating minutes before.
"You're not going to let me come with you."
He didn't argue her claim. He didn't need to. The sudden distance in his gaze said it all.
He placed the magical cloak around himself and ignored Catrina's audible shock at his sudden disappearance—or her jumping to her feet, begging him not to go.
But he wasn't leaving.
She spun and spun, looking for him. He gave her a sad smile she could not see.
"Forget you ever knew me."
The magic worked so fast Colin almost regretted doing it. She stopped calling out for him and took in her surroundings and the sounds of battle outside. She raced out of the house as if she didn't have a clue why she'd even been there to begin with.
She'd be happier without him in her memories.
She'd be able to move on and have another life.
But she was not alone as she departed.
Colin followed. Letting go of his fear. Leaving behind the person he was, or wanted to be. Fate had come for him and he'd let it claim him.
CHAPTER 50
No one was making the first move. It was a stare down of epic proportions.
Meghan had reached the Stone and her father was a Grosvenor refusing to give up. He still believed he had a chance to use either her or Colby to create his new Power Stone. If he didn't believe this, he would have hidden the Stone from her. Although now that she was this close, she was certain she could track it even if he did. The magic inside of it pulsed almost like it was her own lifeblood.
All Meghan needed to do now was activate her vampyre side and suck the Stone dry, and then let the magic burn up in her veins. After, she'd burn what remained of the Stone, thus purifying it and taking away its ability to steal magic. Then, she'd do the same for her father's recently harvested Stones. No one would ever use the Mazuruk Stones to steal magic, ever again.
However, she hadn't thought through trying to activate her vampyre side while under extreme duress—fighting her father. Fearing for Colby's life. And Jae's. As Jasper and his army fought against the Stripers.
She needed her father kept busy, and Colby was in a haze, trying not to sink into despair. Elisha was consoling him and encouraging him to get back up to his feet. Things got dire when Old Basil, the caretaker, appeared holding what looked like jars of blood.
Meghan had a fleeting warning going off in her brain that she should flee and take Colby with her. Injured, and slowed down, her father was still moving forward like he'd already won. She was sure he needed the blood jars for the new Stone.
"And what exactly is it, dear daughter of mine, that you think you're going to do up there? Steal my Stone? Hide it from me?"
"I'm going to destroy it."
"You can't. There is no one who can."
"You're wrong, Dad. And you brought the destruction into this world."
"You?" he laughed. "How are you going to destroy such power?"
"Obviously, I must have power that impresses you," she taunted. "Didn't you offer me a job?" She'd heard it all from Colby's mind. And if she didn't activate her vampyre side, like, yesterday, her father was going to use her brother and she'd never be able to focus and get the job done.
Her thoughts were wide open and hearing them shook Colby out of his listlessness. He still had a job to do. The only way he might save Jae is if they won. The guy who'd told him he was the strongest person he'd ever met. And that his future belonged to him, and no one else. So Colby had to get up. And keep fighting. Otherwise, he'd never know what that future would be.
Colby was a bundle of unease as he climbed to his feet and begged his soul for composure, control, and courage. The act of getting up was the hardest thing he'd ever done, until his eyes landed on his father and he realized it wasn't hard. Fighting for the people he loved wasn't hard. Dying for them wasn't hard.
He crooked his head, staring at his father.
How could one man emanate such vitriol? And to his own children…
It didn't matter. It would never matter.
His father was the evil the world needed gone.
That everyone he cared about needed gone.
And he'd been so close to being right there at his side, groomed to be a king. Colby had so few ideas about what he wanted in this life, but being a king was not one of them. He'd be forever thankful to have gotten free before it was too late. Even if this was his last moments alive, he'd experienced what it was to be loved. And that made fighting to save that love, easy.
Meghan was crouched atop the Stone and trying like crazy to activate her vampyre ability.
Fazendiin strode a few steps closer to Colby, his boots pounding into the newly fallen snow.
"Are you ready, Son?"
"Don't call me that. I've never been your son. And I'm not helping you create another Stone." He girded himself for the inevitable battle about to happen. His father would not give up without a fight.
"How can you turn away from such a precious gift?" His father asked him.
"How come you never once asked me if I wanted it?" Colby returned sharply. "You just did what you wanted. I was a means to an end."
Fazendiin stared down his son like he didn't understand the words coming out of his mouth. "Only cowards turn down power."
"Only cowards need it." Colby couldn't quite believe he'd just said that and expected instant wrath to rain down on them all. Instead, his father's resolve only hardened even more.
"Your weakness makes you blind." Fazendiin nodded to old Basil who knelt and opened the jars of blood. He lifted them, and their father proceeded to dunk his hands, one in each jar. It splashed up over the sides, sloshing onto the white snow below.
Meghan stretched to her feet. Her vampyre side was not cooperating… but it was her emotions that were getting the better of her.
"It's not true," Meghan slipped into Colby's thoughts. "What our father says. You're not a coward, Colby. Jae was not wrong when he said you were the strongest person he knew. You really are." She'd heard his thoughts a minute ago.
"I think you could challenge the position."
She breathed out with a timid smile. "Maybe we can share it…" She didn't have to say the rest. It was all there in her mind. And his. The real thing that had saved them. That had gotten them to this moment. The thing their father hadn't counted on or put stock in. Because it was so purely instinctive. A natural byproduct of sharing a womb. A bond down to their very souls that their father couldn't possibly understand because he didn't have a soul. He had no humanity left inside of him. And it wasn't something he could harvest, or kill with his own brand of poison.
And that seed had grown. New tendrils of that byproduct sprouting off in ways their father could not understand or control. It had built the foundation of a core belief in love. Something that, even in all his years living under his father's rule, Colby had never given up on. Even if it was buried deep, or he didn't realize what it was. The need for love, ruled him. Drove him.
Truth had set that love free. But love was the most powerful weapon that existed.
Not Stones. Not magic. Not even an Oracle gifted with sight like no other.
"Or me," Meghan joked.
Colby let out a short laugh.
"And what exactly about this do you find amusing?" His father's voice punched in. His hands were out to his sides, dripping in his own blood.
Meghan's head was clear again and she crouched down seeking out the vampyre hidden inside of her.
Colby had found his strength. And he was the only thing blocking his father from reaching the Stones behind him. Colby's arms came out in front of him, sparks of magic charging up in a restless need to escape. Of course, his father needed him or Meghan to finish the creation. And she was already on top of the Immortality Stone. He just needed to make sure his father di
dn't get past him.
Meghan let her hands splay against the rough surface of Stone, the pulse of magic matching her own heartbeat. She imagined pulling the magic out of the Stone and into herself. Letting the hunger for it, the thirst for it, grow and seep into her lungs.
Colby leveled every bit of focus on his father. Elisha stilled herself, reaching out with her white eye in hopes of seeing a glimpse of what was to come. The blood coating his father's arms began to thicken, like some sort of barrier that somehow connected to the real blood—the life—the magic—flowing underneath this skin.
Getting a spell past his father was going to be nearly impossible. But he just needed to give Meghan time. He released his magic and it pushed out toward his father, who surprisingly, didn't even try to block it. He let it surround him like a cocoon of electricity.
"Stop!" warned Elisha. "That's what he wants. What he needs." She'd seen just a glimpse of the future, just enough to see this fact. Colby lowered his hands, seeing it in her mind. His magic must somehow help whatever it was his father was doing. So how did he stop him without magic? Distraction was the only thing he could come up with.
Colby's eyes slid to old Basil—he'd never much liked the man. And he'd certainly never done him any favors. A blast of perfectly aimed magic slammed into Basil. He dropped the jars of blood, which shattered, the blood painting the courtyard. The old man dropped dead—it wasn't like it took much off his life. He was near dead already.
Fazendiin didn't even give his servant a glance. His purpose was completed and he wasn't needed any longer.
Colby scowled in the disappointment of the Grosvenor before him. To think he'd once believed he loved him. Respected him. Would have done anything he asked of him…
One look at old Basil proved what a lifetime of loyalty to his father got you.
Nothing.
His father only valued what other's lives offered him.
Fazendiin lifted his gaze from his bloodied arms. Whatever he'd been waiting for must have finally happened because—Colby sucked in, the air sucked out of his lungs. Elisha saw it coming, but a moment too late and she could not help him now. The Catawitch couldn’t even use fire to take Colby away from here if she wanted to. His father had used some spell to latch onto his son's magic—more specifically, the magic that tied him to the Immortality Stone.
The Queen, The Mirror, and The Creation (Fated Chronicles Book 5) Page 34
