Ward Against Destruction

by Melanie Card

  “Thank you.” He didn’t know what he’d do once at the island. In a way, this was the plan: get to Vekalmeer and have the necromancers chase after him. Except he could only pray that Jared and Nazarius were still alive and that they convinced Grandfather to come. No. Nazarius was alive, and he’d come through for them. They could count on him to get the job done.

  “You need to eat.”

  Ward didn’t know if Maura had spoken or Celia. “No.”

  “Ward—” Definitely Maura.

  “Who are you talking to?” Thanos asked. A void, black to all of Ward’s senses, loomed over him, sucking up the light from the sun.

  “No one,” Maura said.

  Something heavy slammed into Ward’s back. He yelped, and pain shot through him and slowly faded.

  The blackness drew closer. “So you’re awake, pet.”

  Ward cracked open an eye. Only a hint of soul glimmered in Thanos’s aura. The sangsal had devoured the rest and soon would completely take hold.

  “Stasik was impressed you escaped from the altar. But you won’t a second time.”

  “And yet you don’t sound certain about that.” It was something Celia would say, and it made Ward sound more confident than he felt.

  Thanos leaned closer. Black veins swept over his cheeks and down his neck. The sangsal shot through Ward in an icy response.

  “I’m hoping you’ll try.” A foggy tendril of sangsal oozed from Thanos’s hand and slipped, slick and freezing, around Ward’s neck. “I’m really hoping you’ll try.”

  The sangsal squeezed, slowly, tighter and tighter. Ward gasped for breath. He yanked at the rope binding his wrists behind his back but couldn’t break free. His lungs screamed for air and the sangsal’s chill called to the sangsal within him, so cold it burned.

  “Or maybe I should kill you now.”

  Ward thrashed, unable to control himself. He needed breath. He was dying, except he didn’t know if strangulation would kill him. The only way to kill a vesperitti was with a silver blade to the heart, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t suffer.

  “You can’t kill me,” Ward gasped.

  “Yes, silver blade and all that. But I’m certainly willing to try over and over again,” Thanos sneered. More black veins swept over his face, and a frozen mist curled from his nostrils. “I could kill your master, but that would stop all our fun.”

  “And what do you think Stasik has to say about this?”

  Thanos growled, flicked his hand, and the sangsal tendril released Ward. “I’d hate to not have the rest of my men made invincible just for a little fun with you. You’re not worth it.”

  The boat ground against stone, and Thanos straightened. Glaring sunlight returned, blinding Ward. Thanos barked commands, the boat rocked, and water splashed, too loud and too bright for Ward. Celia’s rush of thoughts flooded him, screaming and crying and still not coherent.

  Strong hands grabbed Ward and hauled him from the ship into waist-deep water. He was pulled onto the shore with Celia and Maura. The pirates half marched, half dragged him up the path to the temple. Celia was barely conscious. Her eyes kept fluttering open, but every time they did, a burst of emotions and words rushed through Ward then snapped shut and her eyes closed again.

  His heart twisted. She wasn’t losing blood or soul magic. Only a fatal blow or massive damage like the fire that had killed the first Innecroestri they faced could kill her. But if it wasn’t a physical injury, it had to be magical, which Ward knew nothing about.

  They entered the temple, but instead of heading to the parlor or one of the other chambers, Thanos led them to the staircase in the antechamber and took them to the basement. One torch flickered with bright magical sparks at the bottom of the smooth steps. Obsidian vines slid along the walls, catching the light and gleaming with a dark fire.

  At the bottom ran a narrow, dank passage smelling of mold and decay, lined with a series of cells with new iron bars. Ward didn’t know what the Ancients had intended for these chambers, but Stasik’s plan was clear. He planned to keep more sacrifices here.

  “These were originally for Stasik’s pets when they started going crazy,” Thanos said.

  The pirates tossed Celia into a cell. She hit the floor with a groan but didn’t wake up. Ward and Maura were shoved in after her.

  Thanos shut the door with a heavy clang and tapped a bar. “So it’s more than strong enough to keep you inside. At least when you’re so weak.” A black vein pulsed along his neck. “Who do you think you’ll eat first? The old woman? I bet she doesn’t have much magic in her soul. Or your master?”

  Ward grabbed the bars and wrenched, filled with a sudden hot rage, but that only made Thanos laugh.

  “Crazy already.” He turned to a man beside him. “Let Stasik know if he wants to use either of the women, he’d better do it soon.”

  The men laughed and sauntered back to the stairs, taking the torch with them.

  Finally, blissful darkness. Except it wasn’t dark. Light radiated from Maura and sparked sporadically from Celia. It even wept from the walls, the floor, and glowed from the new bars.

  Celia groaned, and a blast of unintelligible words shot through the soul chain. He sank to her side and pulled her into his lap, cradling her head and shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. It might have been the Seer who’d gotten them into this mess, but Ward was the one whose honor wouldn’t let them leave. He glanced at Maura, who sat propped against the wall beside them. “I’m sorry to you, too.”

  “Are you talking to me?” she asked.

  “Yes, sorry. I forgot it’s dark and you can’t see.”

  “You’re not supposed to be able to see in the dark yet. You’re too new a vesperitti.”

  “I’m not really seeing in the normal sense. I see your soul magic.”

  Celia gasped. Another burst of words and pain.

  Maura shifted closer. “She’s not well, and she’s getting worse.”

  “But I can’t see where she’s hurt. I don’t know how to help her.” Goddess, he’d give anything to just make her all right—and that wasn’t a compulsion from the soul chain, it was his true love for her.

  “It’s not a physical injury, it’s a spiritual one.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s what I do. Magic of the spirit.”

  “But I can’t see a magical ability in your aura. The Seer has gold, my cousin has red—you don’t have anything.”

  “I hide it.”

  “You can do that?”

  “I’m a woman with magic. Not everyone likes that.”

  “A Sister of Darkness.”

  “I really hate that name,” Maura said.

  “I don’t blame you.” The Sisters were feared, often more than necromancers. A woman with any kind of magic except necromancy was rare—and even women necromancers were uncommon.

  Celia trembled, and her pulse sped up. She was dying.

  He grabbed Maura’s arm, his pulse racing with Celia’s. “You know what’s wrong. Can you help her?”

  Celia convulsed again. Her heart stuttered. Ward’s stuttered with her. Her voice, her pain, poured into him in a whirling, roaring, screaming frenzy.

  “Please, Maura. You have to help her.”

  Maura grabbed Celia’s hand. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Celia shrieked, and pain exploded over the soul chain. He was linked to her, and they were both dying.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Celia couldn’t get her bearings. The world in her subconscious had shattered into an all-consuming blackness, spinning, caught in a vortex of wind and screams and, above all, need. The need to have power to fix Ward, to feed him, to control him. With blood magic, she could stop Stasik and Lauro and seal the Gate. She could solve all her problems. All she needed was enough blood.

  Blood solved everything. It was easy to get. Just kill a man. She could kill every man on the island. Surely that would be enough.
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  But as soon as she thought that, she knew it wouldn’t be enough. Stasik and Lauro were powerful. She needed more. She had to be the strongest she could possibly be.

  Remy’s essence screamed no and yes. His words jumbled, flashing thoughts and memories that she couldn’t quite grasp. He agreed one minute and disagreed the next and burned. Goddess, his essence burned.

  “Celia.”

  The voice was soft. For a heartbeat she thought it was her mother, but her mother had died when she was little. She couldn’t remember what she looked like. How could she remember her voice?

  “Celia.”

  The vortex shuddered. A black vine solidified, twisting beside her. Obsidian.

  As if naming the stone gave it power, the obsidian railing from the cavern in the sewers in Brawenal City materialized. The vortex hardened around it, taking shape, revealing the rest of the cavern. She stood at the main entrance. The balcony extended around the circumference of the vast chamber that stretched far below. Red, green, and yellow light shone from the ceiling.

  She slid her fingers over the railing. Ward had been so amazed when she’d first brought him here, and she hadn’t cared. She’d been so determined to figure out who’d killed her and use Ward to keep her alive long enough to murder her murderer.

  She dipped her hand into the light. Ward had done that, too. It was the first moment she’d really seen him and the man he actually was. She hadn’t wanted to believe a man like Ward existed. It went against everything she thought she knew about the world. Surely it was an act. But fate had tested him beyond what any man should face, and he hadn’t cracked. He’d died defending her. Her! A killer, a woman with a stained soul.

  Goddess, it wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve this.

  The cavern shuddered, the obsidian squealing as it shook. Wind whipped around her, tearing at her skin and hair, her very soul. Remy’s essence yelled words in a language she didn’t understand…except she did understand but knew she shouldn’t.

  “Celia.”

  “What!” She couldn’t take it anymore. Just shut up, shut up.

  The vortex froze. Silence flooded her senses then a slow shush, click, shush, click caught her attention. It was soft at first but grew louder, drawing closer. It came from all around her, even inside her. She searched the balcony, but it was empty on this level. She leaned over the railing. Nothing, only the multihued light disappearing into the darkness below.

  Shush, click. Shush, click.

  “Celia.” The voice was right beside her.

  She jumped and balled her hands into fists.

  Maura stood beside her, leaning on her cane. She wore the same beige shirt and brown skirt she’d been wearing that day, but her hair was dark brown instead of gray and was cascading down her back, not pinned up tight.

  “How are you in the cavern?”

  Maura cocked an eyebrow. “I think the real question is how can you be?”

  The cavern shuddered. “I was here. This is my safe place.”

  “But you left, remember?”

  “I left—?” Yes, she had. Her father had killed her. His right-hand man had killed him and blamed her. She and Ward had run from Brawenal City. “What’s wrong with me?”

  The cavern shattered. Remy howled, and the wind tore at her, ripping away pieces, leaves from a dying tree. She was being swept away, losing control, splintering apart.

  Maura grabbed her hand, and a little pocket of calm surrounded them.

  “Who’s this other person in your head?” Maura frowned.

  “Ward.”

  “Your connection to him doesn’t work that way.” Maura shoved a hand into the vortex and yanked Remy out of the wind. The old man—no, he was younger in Celia’s subconscious, more like the young, strong statue of him in Dulthyne.

  “You don’t belong here,” Maura said.

  “I’m keeping her safe.”

  “You’re making her crazy.”

  “What are you talking about?” Celia asked.

  “We’re in your head, dear,” Maura said, as if that explained everything.

  Celia glared at Remy. “You said it was temporary. You also said you have important things to tell me, but you won’t stop yelling nonsense.”

  “You’re succumbing to the blood magic lure. It’s mixing up my words, confusing you,” Remy said.

  Maura huffed. “That’s only half true, and you know it.”

  Remy frowned. “The blood magic spell you cast to bring Ward back, it locked part of my essence within you. Except—” His frown deepened. “I can’t focus. There’s something I’m supposed to tell you, about Ward, about—”

  A wail screeched around them, making Celia shudder.

  “This is Vekalmeer. There’s an Innecroestri trying to open the Gate. Celia’s the only one close enough to try to stop him.” Remy shuddered, the movement rippling the air around him. “But that’s not it. Not all?” The muscle in his jaw clenched. “She has to keep her vesperitti under control and resist the blood magic lure. If she doesn’t, the sangsal will destroy her.”

  “You’re destroying her.”

  “Her vesperitti is the only one who can stop this.” Another screech. It shot through Celia, searing like lightning. Her knees buckled, but Maura tightened her grip and held Celia up.

  “You have to let her go. Your essence is too shattered, you can’t focus enough to help. Between you and the lure, you’re shattering her will. Let me ease the lure. Let her and her monster finish what they can,” Maura said.

  “Ward isn’t a monster. He’s love and kindness and honor and life. I’m death. I’m the killer,” Celia said.

  “Yes,” Remy said, his eyes brightening. “That’s what I’ve forgotten. He’s life. You were dead and now you’re not.”

  He’d told her what she was only a few days ago, but it felt like a lifetime, and now with all his screaming she couldn’t remember what he’d said.

  “I’ve already told you. You’re a revivesca.”

  Maura squinted at Celia. “Impossible.”

  “Can’t you see it?” Remy asked. “How can you ease her blood lure if you can’t see her true essence?”

  Maura huffed. “I don’t work that way. I sense. I don’t see. Besides, only a Brother of Light can make a revivesca, and one with the ability hasn’t been seen in generations.”

  “A Brother isn’t the only one who can cast the spell. A vivimancer can,” Celia said. The words—Remy’s words, suddenly clear in the roar of everything else—spilled out. “Goddess, just get out of my head!”

  “A vivimancer?” Maura tapped her cane on the floor…ground? “Of course. The light to the necromancer’s darkness, but rare. So rare the boy and everyone else might not know what to look for.”

  “He even turned to medicine,” Remy said. “Trying to find his calling, despite everyone else.”

  “And he did use magic I’ve never felt before to heal Declan.” Maura tapped her cane again. “He’s no longer a vivimancer, though. He’s now a vesperitti.”

  “But the Abyss,” Remy said.

  Maura shook her head. “It doesn’t matter if he can still access his gift. It won’t work the same. He’ll never be as powerful dead as he was alive, and the spell keeping his soul in his body locks the sangsal within him. He’ll never be able to shove it all back into the Abyss, unless—”

  “Unless he’s willing to make the sacrifice,” Remy said.

  Celia shuddered, her heart on the verge of shattering. “No.” But her voice was barely more than a whisper, and she knew she couldn’t fight the truth. Ward would make the sacrifice. That was who Ward was.

  “He might be able to do it,” Maura said. “But if he and the girl are going to try to stop the Innecroestri, you have to leave.”

  “The blood magic lure will consume her.” Remy grabbed Celia’s other arm, and the bubble of calm surrounding them shattered. The vortex swept her up, ripping more pieces from her.

  “I’ll ease the lure.” Maura’s v
oice boomed around her. “You’re breaking her.”

  “There’s no time,” Remy wailed. “It has to be done.”

  Celia clutched at herself, desperate to keep some part of herself, a flicker, anything, before she was swept away. “Don’t I get a say? Don’t I get to choose? It’s my life.”

  “It’s the Goddess’s fate,” Remy yelled.

  “I won’t be able to do anything if you rip me apart.” She slammed her fists against the obsidian railing, shattering it. The pieces flew into the vortex, slicing her cheeks and arms. “My life! My choice!”

  The vortex stilled. The obsidian vanished.

  “Ward and I destroyed the curse of Dulthyne. We didn’t fail you, Remy. If you believe we have a chance now, then let us do it.” Even if it meant this was the end for them.

  Maura appeared again, now young and tall without her cane. She held out her hands. “Give me the blood magic lure.”

  But Celia didn’t know how to give up something she didn’t even know she had. “I don’t know how.”

  “It’s in your hands. Just pass it over.”

  Celia glanced down. She clutched an enlarged heart, still beating and oozing blood with every pulse.

  “Just hand it over.”

  But if Celia did, all hope of saving Ward would go. Remy would disappear, and she wouldn’t know how to cast blood magic anymore.

  The heart pulsed in Celia’s hands. Blood seeped through her fingers.

  “Let me take it.” Maura stepped closer.

  Everything within her screamed to cling tighter, never let it go and fight. That’s what all her training had taught her. But to fight, to live, to do what needed to be done, she knew, without a doubt, she had to do what had always been impossible for her. Let go.

  Chapter Thirty

  Celia woke to darkness and silence, glorious silence. Remy was gone. All the screaming, the roaring, the burning was gone. So, too, was the churning need for blood. She hadn’t even realized it had been there. It was as if a weight had been taken from her soul. And yet a part of her felt empty. She had a sense that knowledge was at the tip of her tongue, but she knew she’d never be able to recall it again. She was herself, and yet she felt diminished, smaller, as if something important had been stripped from her and she’d never get it back.