Endure

by Sara B. Larson

  “Tanoori! NO!” I lunged forward just as Rafe pulled his sword back out, and she dropped to her knees, lifting one hand to the blood pouring from her wound. Her head turned toward me, and then she crumpled to the ground. I tried to rush to her side, but Rafe stepped in the way. “Tanoori!” I screamed. Her eyes lifted to mine, and she tried to say something, but blood filled her mouth, and then her eyes went blank.

  “No!” I lunged forward again, but Rafe grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back, laughing at my frantic anguish.

  It was my fault. It was my fault. She’d died because of me. Because of Rafe.

  Fury boiled up in my veins like acid, and I raised my sword, wanting nothing more than to run him through, but as soon as I pictured doing it, my mind went blank again, and I found myself standing there, staring at him in confusion.

  “Alexa! Get away from him!”

  I turned to see Damian pushing his way through the fighting, narrowly avoiding getting hit by another fireball, heading right for me — and Rafe.

  No!” I shouted, terrified that Rafe’s command would make me hurt or kill the man I loved. “Go back!”

  Rafe just started laughing, and then suddenly, his sword was pressed to my throat.

  Damian lurched to a stop a few feet away.

  Rafe shoved me at Damian, who reached out to steady me, but I jerked away, terrified of myself. The light from the fires burning all around us flickered across Damian’s face and reflected the confusion in his eyes — confusion that turned to horror when they dropped to the ground where Tanoori lay.

  “Come on, Damian. Let’s play, shall we?” Rafe stepped up next to me and lifted his sword. “We have some unfinished business, you and I, seeing how you killed my sister.”

  Damian’s expression hardened, and when he lifted his sword, preparing to fight Rafe, I, too, lifted mine. I couldn’t let the king hurt Rafe. I had to protect him.

  Damian lunged at Rafe first, but I stepped in front of him and blocked his blow with my sword.

  Damian stumbled back, his mouth opening in shock, and then he shook his head. “He got to you,” he breathed, as his eyes filled with a sudden, strange grief.

  I took his moment of hesitation to my advantage and lunged at him. He managed to get a shield up in time to block me. But Rafe was there, on the other side. Damian wouldn’t be able to hold us both off for long, even with his sorcery. Damian focused on fighting Rafe, only blocking my blows but never going on the offensive against me. The three of us circled one another, lunging and parrying while Rafe and I tried to get past the shield Damian kept throwing up to block our attacks.

  “Alexa, you don’t want to do this!” Damian cried out at one point, when I could tell he was tiring and losing track of both of us. We were wearing him down. “Alexa, I love you — please, stop!”

  Something inside of me tilted at his words, a tiny tug of anger. But I was confused about who, or what, I was angry at. And then Damian swiped at Rafe again, and I remembered — I was mad at him for trying to hurt Rafe.

  “Isn’t she marvelous?” Rafe taunted the king of Antion.

  “I love you, Alex. I fought back for you — I know you can do the same for me!” Damian turned toward me, and when his eyes met mine, I paused, confused and upset.

  Hope flared in Damian’s eyes when I hesitated. Because of his momentary distraction, he was a split second too late getting the shield up to stop Rafe’s blade from slicing toward him. He threw himself backward, so that the blade missed the intended target of his neck and sliced deep into his arm instead.

  When he cried out in pain, my insides turned to ice for one horrible moment. I stared at him, my heart pounding as Rafe lifted his sword again. Damian pressed his bleeding arm to his body and lifted his sword to deflect Rafe’s blow with his other.

  “Alexa, please! Remember who you are!”

  I couldn’t bear to see him hurt. Why couldn’t I stand it? I was supposed to hurt him — to protect Rafe. But something was very wrong with him getting injured while I stood here watching.

  Rafe had him backed up to a burning tree. Damian had to stop retreating or he would get burned. But instead of going for the kill, Rafe turned to me. “Would you like to do it, my dear?”

  I stepped forward, gripping my sword with slick hands, my head pounding with confusion. When I came to stand next to Rafe, Damian let his sword fall to his side. His eyes met mine, and the empty resignation in their piercing blue depths struck me straight in the chest, a driving pain that made me want to cry.

  You love him, a voice deep within me whispered. You love him.

  “Alexa, finish the job!” Rafe urged beside me.

  “I love you, no matter what,” Damian said, and then he tried to smile at me as I lifted my sword, a heart-wrenching grief in his eyes.

  For some reason, I suddenly remembered being in his room, when he’d tried to kill me. He’d fought back then. What had he been fighting against? I needed to remember. I had to remember. I shook my head, the pain excruciating now.

  “Alexa, now, or I’m going to do it!”

  “It’s all right, Alexa. I love you. Just remember that. I forgive you, no matter what.”

  Damian’s eyes met mine once more and I knew. I loved him. He’d fought back against Vera because she wanted him to kill me — but he hadn’t.

  I turned to look at Rafe, and hatred filled me. He’d done this. He’d turned me into his weapon. My head ached, pounding against his control. I forced myself to lift my sword, even though my muscles screamed at me to stop. Fear flickered across his face, and he took a step back.

  “You will not control me,” I growled, and then, as if I’d burst through invisible chains, his hold broke away from my mind, and this time when I lifted my sword to lunge at him, nothing stopped me. He barely managed to parry my blow.

  Damian rushed forward and lifted his sword with his good arm.

  “Rylan!” Rafe suddenly shouted, glancing left of me. “Stop them! RYLAN! Kill Damian — right now!”

  I spun to see Rylan fighting a Dansiian soldier, one not wearing the black robes, but the moment Rafe yelled at him he stopped and turned to us, his eyes blank. He rushed forward, his sword lifted, aimed at Damian.

  “Him, too?” Damian cried out, jumping back and lifting his sword to parry Rylan’s attack.

  And then Rafe lunged at me.

  I turned to face him, my back to Damian’s as we both fought for our lives. With Damian so injured, I knew he wouldn’t last long against Rylan. I could sense him drawing on his power to block Rylan’s hits with his shield, but he wasn’t moving as fast as he should have.

  “I will kill you for what you did to Vera — to all of us!” Rafe shouted, pulling my attention back to him as he rushed toward me, aiming to run me through, like he’d done to Tanoori. I made a split-second decision to rush at him, realizing that if I jumped out of his way, he would hit Damian from behind. I swung my blade down and then back up at the last second, hitting his sword to the side so that I could barrel into him with my shoulder without being impaled, and knocked him back. True fear crossed his face as I went on the offensive against him for the first time, holding nothing back. My blade flashed in the firelight as I swung it left, right, then left again. He blocked and blocked, but he wasn’t fast enough — I quickly realized he was weak to the right.

  “No, Rafe,” I spat out, “I will kill you for what you’ve done.”

  And then I lunged to the left. The minute he took the bait I spun around as fast as I could, and he wasn’t able to do anything except stare at me as my blade sliced through his right side, deep into his belly.

  When I yanked it back out, he stumbled back a step. His sword fell to the ground from his limp hand as he stared at me, his one remaining eye slowly glazing over in shock. And then his mouth fell open, and he dropped to the ground, dead at last.

  I spun around to face Rylan and Damian, praying they were both still alive. Damian held his sword up, ready to defend himself, but Rylan ha
d stumbled back a step, shaking his head in confusion now that Rafe was dead, his sword dropping a few inches. Relief crossed Damian’s face, and he relaxed slightly, pulling his injured arm against his body once more.

  Neither of them noticed the black sorcerer standing further up the trail, lifting his hand, taking aim at the king with his fire.

  “Damian!” I screamed, running toward them but already knowing I wouldn’t make it in time.

  Rylan and Damian’s heads snapped up. Damian looked at me, but I saw Rylan turn and notice the sorcerer just as he let the fire go, directly at Damian.

  It all happened as if time had slowed to a crawl. Rylan’s head jerked back so that his eyes met mine. And then he leaped forward, throwing his body in front of Damian’s so that the fireball exploded against him instead of Damian, blasting Rylan through the air, knocking Damian over. Rylan landed past him, rolling a few times, leaving a trail of flames before finally coming to a stop on his side, smoke rising from his body.

  “Rylan!” I screamed. But the sorcerer wasn’t done. He was already conjuring more fire. I lifted my sword and charged right at him.

  Damian beat me to him, his face darkened with fury. He made the ground beneath the sorcerer shake so that the fire he threw at us went wide, hitting the side of the canyon instead. Then Damian thrust his hand forward, sending the sorcerer slamming back into a tree behind him. Damian rushed forward, slicing his sword down so hard and fast the sorcerer couldn’t pull back quickly enough, and he chopped his arm clean off. But I’d seen what Iker could do with all that blood, and even as I thought about it, the sorcerer began to summon a dark cloud that swirled up around his body, hiding him and Damian from view.

  I plunged right into it, swiping my sword down where he had last stood. The cloud burned my eyes and made my skin hurt, but when my blade met hard flesh, the darkness suddenly dropped away, leaving the sorcerer standing before us, my sword sliced through his shoulder, down into his lungs. I yanked it back out and, without even waiting to see if he fell to the ground or not, I spun to face where Rylan lay unmoving.

  My sword clattered to the ground as I sprinted to his side. He had to be alive; he had to be alive. I dropped to the earth next to Rylan. His whole body was burned, some parts worse than others. I gently rolled him to his back, and he moaned.

  When I saw his face, I sucked in a gasp that was a half sob.

  “Alexa,” he coughed, his mouth barely moving. I could see the agony in his eyes — the only part of him untouched by the sorcerer’s fire. “Is … he … all right?”

  I started crying in earnest when I realized he was asking about Damian. After everything, he had sacrificed himself to save the king.

  I nodded, lifting my hand to hesitantly touch his charred face. He flinched, and I pulled away.

  “No …” he groaned. “Pain … is all right. Die … in your arms …”

  “No. You can’t die,” I sobbed. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this. You can’t leave me here alone.”

  All around us the sounds of the battle raged, but I didn’t care as Rylan tried to lift a hand to my face. His arm shook, and he couldn’t reach quite high enough. When I realized what he was trying to do, I bent down and held his hand against my face so he could cup my cheek. “You’re not … alone,” he whispered. “Love him … as I … loved you.”

  My entire body was shaking from the tears that seemed to rise from the deepest depths of my soul. I shook my head against his hand, not wanting to accept what was happening, and then I turned to kiss his palm. He took a shuddering breath. I could hear the fluid in his lungs.

  Rylan’s eyes filled with tears as he looked up at me, but then he lifted his head slightly, and his gaze moved past me. He whispered something, but I couldn’t understand him. I leaned in closer.

  He spoke again, a soft sigh. “Jude …”

  His lips moved as if he was trying to smile, and then he went completely still. His hand dropped from my face, falling to the ground beside him. The light faded from his beautiful brown eyes, until they glassed over.

  “No! RYLAN! NO!” I screamed again. A tidal wave of anguish dragged me down, until I bent so that I had pressed my face to his burned tunic, my tears running across his ruined skin.

  And then Damian was there, dropping to his knees beside me, taking me by the shoulders and pulling me back. A loud boom shook the ground near us, but I didn’t even flinch. Rylan was gone. He was gone.

  “Alexa, we have to go,” Damian said, pulling on me even harder, not even realizing he was echoing what Rylan had said when Eljin died. “I’m so sorry, but we have to go now. There are even more coming! I can’t hold them off any longer. We have to retreat.”

  “We can’t leave him!”

  “If we stay here, we’ll die, too!” Damian shouted back at me, tears in his eyes as well.

  “We can’t leave him!” I repeated, my entire body shaking uncontrollably.

  “You’re right,” he agreed with me, and then he bent forward and scooped Rylan’s body into his arms, even though he was severely injured himself. His wound gushed blood as he struggled to stand under Rylan’s weight.

  “Your Majesty!” I heard a shout and turned to see Deron running toward us, a wound in his side bleeding profusely. He was intent on his king and didn’t see the soldier rushing toward him with his sword raised. I grabbed Damian’s sword from the ground and ran forward, barreling past Deron and swinging the blade up to stop the blow that was aimed at Deron’s head. The soldier spun to attack me, but I was so angry and hurt and devastated and ruined, I didn’t care. I just attacked. I killed him as they’d killed Rylan. And Tanoori. And Marcel and Mama and Papa. I killed that soldier, and then I moved on to another and then another.

  And then I saw him, standing far back from the fighting, watching it all unfold.

  King Armando.

  With a primal scream of rage, I streaked toward him.

  His eyes widened, and then he broke into a smile, as if welcoming my attack. Another sorcerer stepped in my way, blocking the king from me. Before we could start fighting, a voice unlike any I’d ever heard before sounded over everything else — over the clashing of swords, the burning of fire, the cries of the dying, and the sobs of the living left behind — a voice that was somehow soft and yet so loud at the same time that it shook the ground. The black sorcerer’s eyes widened, and he suddenly froze, dropping to his knees to stare at something behind me, horror etched on his face.

  I spun around, to see everyone facing Sì Miào Chán Wù.

  When I gazed up at the ledge where Damian and King Osgand had once stood, there now stood two men and a woman, all dressed in robes of white lined in gold and silver. All three of them had long, white hair, and even from here, I could see how bright their eyes shone in the darkness.

  The Rén Zhsas had finally emerged from the temple.

  The man who stood a little bit in front of the other two sorcerers spoke again, and this time his words pierced my heart with hope. Though I could hear the sounds of Blevonese when he spoke, for some reason I understood his words, as if their power transcended our languages, speaking directly to my heart.

  “The people of Blevon have stayed true to the oath that the first sorcerer, King Mokaro, made to the God who granted us such power, and so the promise given him shall now be fulfilled.”

  The man lifted his arms, and the other two sorcerers behind him did the same. At first nothing happened. But then, as I watched in awe, a beautiful golden light began to pulse behind them, almost as if it came from within the temple — perhaps even from the waterfall of golden water it hid. The light spread out to encompass the three sorcerers, wrapping around them like a shimmering cloak. And then it continued to spread, rushing forward, turning into a river of molten gold, encircling the Blevonese sorcerers, cloaking them as well, before moving on to Damian, who still held Rylan in his trembling arms. The glow eventually encompassed everyone from Antion and Blevon, even me, creating a grid of glowing, pulsing l
ight around the black sorcerers and Dansiian soldiers who remained. When it wrapped around my body, I felt strangely light — and empowered, as if it was healing me, taking away my exhaustion and my pain.

  Once we were all encircled, the golden glow grew stronger until it was a blinding, shining light. Suddenly, that light shot straight up into the sky above us. Every head was turned up to stare at it. And then just as quickly as it had risen above us, the golden-white light rushed back to the earth, hitting the ground with a massive boom. In the blink of an eye, it exploded around us, blinding us all.

  When my vision cleared, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. Every single black sorcerer who had still been standing now lay on the ground — dead.

  “For their crimes, their souls shall be Dish forever more,” the sorcerer declared.

  Cheers erupted around me, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything except stare halfway across the field at Damian, holding Rylan, his arm healed. For Rylan, the Rén Zhsas had been too late.

  “But for you, King of Dansii,” the sorcerers suddenly spoke all together, their voices rising until the ground trembled and my ears actually hurt, “for your crimes, you shall be cursed to suffer far more than death or becoming Dish. You shall be cursed to not only wander the Lost Paths for all eternity, but to suffer the pain you have made others suffer until the end of time.”

  I spun to face King Armando. For the first time since I’d met him, fear filled his eyes. But then his gaze dropped to me, standing only a few feet away, and his fear turned to rage.

  “This is your fault!” he roared, and, yanking a sword out of a body next to him, he rushed at me with it lifted overhead.

  Strengthened by the force of the brilliant light, I lifted my own sword and blocked his blow with a resounding clang that echoed over the suddenly silent canyon.

  His eyes burned with the fires of loathing as he charged at me again and again, but I continued to deflect him until he began to tire. And then, with the firelight of the trees burning all around us flickering across our bodies, I charged at him, lifting my sword and swinging it around as hard and fast as I could. He stumbled back, the fear returning, but he was too late — and too slow. My sword drove through his flesh and organs, but rather than pulling it back out, I pressed it in even harder as I stepped closer to him so I could whisper, “Enjoy your eternity of suffering.”