The Diamond Sphinx (The Lost Ancients Book 6)

by Marie Andreas

  This field was now looking like a battlefield. We just needed an enemy. There was no way to know for sure if Edana believed the rumors we planted that said we could destroy the weapon with just five relics, or if she was counting on beating us and taking all of them for herself. Either way, we were ending this now. According to the spies, a huge syclarion army was heading our way. This had to work; too many innocents had died, and they would keep dying until we stopped this.

  I took a deep breath and lowered the spyglass. My terror of releasing the manticore was only getting worse. I knew why I needed to do it. However, changing was still new enough to me, that the idea of transforming in front of a few thousand warriors made me physically ill. Yes, we were hiding in the woods, and Lorcan had layered a dozen spells of hiding around us. As long as Covey and Lorcan got the manticore into the faeries’ bag quickly and then into the chest, I should be able to change back without it coming back into me. And without anyone beyond us noticing.

  I’d wanted to get the manticore out two weeks ago when they’d mentioned they had a plan to do it, but it had taken this long for Lorcan to create a spell that would keep it from immediately coming back into me.

  I watched the waiting elves through the trees. The idea of being some weird genetic mutation was bad enough without thousands gawking at me. Not to mention that the elven knights looked on edge enough to kill first and ask questions later. I hoped they stuck to their agreement not to interfere with the destruction once we got the weapon together.

  I’d thought that when a decision had been made, Alric might come back to us. Instead, five days ago, an elven knight came out to deliver the response accepting our plan and telling us the knights were already on their way. The royals and the rest of the rulers weren’t happy, but they would stand by to fight.

  There was nothing from Alric.

  Mathilda and Siabiane stood guard over the chest with the four relics in it. Both nodded encouragingly to me.

  Taking a deep breath, I removed my ancestors’ armor from my shoulders. Logically, I knew my clothes were perfectly fine when I changed back, but emotionally, I wanted those two pieces safe.

  The female shoulder guard always felt like it gave a brief squeeze whenever I removed it. The male one didn’t, but the fact it stayed on even though it was far too big for me was enough. I handed both to Covey.

  I thought I saw Alric looking for me but it could be wishful thinking. He could have at least sent a note.

  This was when I should change. Everyone was distracted, which hopefully would keep any mages out there from noticing the spells covering the trees. I took a deep breath, focused, and waited. I’d only been able to change once on my own, but it had been a combination of will, focus, and need.

  We had the need and I was focusing my will like crazy.

  “There’s not much time,” Covey whispered. “You might want to hurry things along,”

  “I am trying.” My focus was in full force. My will to turn into whatever it was I became was shouting inside my head. And nothing.

  A rustling came from the undergrowth surrounding the trees around us and broke my concentration.

  Garbage, Leaf, and Crusty, all in their war feathers and proudly riding their armored feline steeds, came forward.

  “Weren’t you still having to attend Queen Mungoosey?” I was glad to see them, but I knew the faeries had their own agenda with an end-of-the-world scenario. They’d been called away two days ago by their queen—and I’d really thought we’d be doing this without them. Queen Mungoosey had banished them when they helped us before. Not helping us could be the cost for her taking them back.

  “We done!”

  “We back! Fight now!”

  “You need!” As Crusty spoke, she and her sleek gray battle cat darted forward, quickly followed by the other two. All three jumped off their cats and climbed to sit on my shoulders.

  Garbage reached over and patted my cheek. “Now try.”

  I closed my eyes and focused again on changing. I shoved the questions I had about what the faeries had been doing into a dark corner and just thought of changing.

  And saw a minkie pop up in my mind. Knowing he was probably harmless wasn’t helpful, but he was in my head, so I’d just have to work around him.

  The familiar feeling crashed into my gut and I felt my skin and bones stretch. Unlike that first time, it didn’t hurt really, more like a stretch gone a bit too long. I kept my eyes shut since if I saw my friends gaping at me, I’d lose focus.

  After a few seconds of no more changes, I opened my eyes. It was a good thing that Lorcan’s spell went far over the tree line. If I could see the battlefield, the people on it could have seen me. Alric briefly looked up from his discussion with Padraig. He scowled but didn’t look like he could see me. Most likely he was sensing the edges of the spell. One thing about whatever I changed into, it had far better eyes than I normally had. Alric shook his head and turned back to Padraig.

  The three faeries had resumed sitting on their cats and Lorcan was tightening one of their tiny bags when I looked down. Then he slipped it into a second bag and knotted the ties. Then he dropped it into the chest and nodded to me. Going back to my real form felt easier, as if I’d been holding my breath and just released it.

  This time was better than the last one; I didn’t fall over or throw up.

  “Did we get it?” I nodded to the faeries. I couldn’t feel the manticore inside me, but no one was completely certain the bags would hold it, even with Lorcan’s spell.

  Garbage rode her battle cat to Lorcan and slowly raised her left hand in the air. She closed her eyes and finally nodded. “Is there.”

  I had a feeling that she knew without doing anything, but if she wanted some pomp, I wasn’t going to say no.

  I put my shoulder guards back on; the rest of my mismatched armor had come back along with my clothes. I also buckled on my belt and scabbard; my sword had stayed with me constantly since the incident with the possessed squirrels.

  “Now what?” Getting the manticore out of me had been such a focus that I was at a loss for the next step.

  Lorcan dropped the spells he had over the woods and nodded to the battlefield. “Now we get back our world from the threat of these things.” He turned to the faeries. “I assume there are more than just you three?”

  Garbage smiled. “All.”

  We came out of the forest at the same time that a cloud came out from behind the trees. Garbage’s troop still rode cats. But the cloud was a mass of faeries the likes of which I’d never seen—there were even more than had been at the battle of the glass gargoyle. Between them and a fleet of chimera constructs flying alongside, they briefly blocked the sun as they passed. They stayed in formation, but two constructs bobbed as they passed. The way the light bounced off the one, as if it was made of glass, I knew it had to be Bunky and Irving.

  Padraig and Alric had been conferring with the king, and then both got off their horses. Mathilda and Siabiane moved the chest closer to the middle of the battlefield—dangerous, but they needed to be seen for this to work. Alric and Padraig were walking toward them when all hell broke loose.

  Too many things happened at once. Alric looked like he’d been struck with a spell as he froze, and then dropped to one knee. His helmet was back with his horse, so I clearly saw the snarl he flashed my direction as he struggled to regain his feet.

  At the same time, a roar broke out behind us as our forces were attacked by the syclarions and their allies—the same forces that we thought were at least a half day’s ride away.

  Siabiane and Mathilda slammed up a spell bubble shield around themselves and the chest. It took their magic out of our defense, but protecting those relics was more important. We took a gamble with this plan—and it might have failed. Edana’s people were supposedly still a ways away.

  Lorcan also put up a spell bubble. His was modified, not as strong as the one around the chest, so he could continue to cast spells. However, he woul
dn’t have done that unless he felt that Edana was nearby.

  I’d expected the gathering elven leaders to go back to their troops, and all of them, including Padraig, did.

  But Alric was on his feet and running for me. The snarl was still on his face but he also looked to be in massive pain.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Then I noticed that the geas mark on his arm was glowing through his armor. Actually, it looked like it was branded onto the armor. I first thought that he was coming for someone close to me, but no one was nearby.

  “Run!” Alric was almost upon me and tears were now flowing down his face. His first strike at me was wild and I was able to block it. “I can’t stop this, you have to run!” He was readying another strike when Nivinal rushed out from the trees, slammed into him, and dragged him to the ground. He’d come around through the trees, intent not on winning a battle but destroying Alric.

  “I told you I was going to be the one to kill you, elf.” Nivinal hadn’t even noticed who Alric had been fighting; he was too focused on executing Alric.

  Alric rolled to his feet and immediately cast a spell bubble over him and Nivinal.

  I stumbled forward to help, but images and emotions slammed me to my knees as a group of minkies appeared before me. Not just in my head; judging by the yelling, others saw them as well.

  The distant past spread out before me. Another battle. Part of the vivid images matched Covey and Lorcan’s theories, but a lot didn’t. But I suddenly knew where and when I was. The battle had gone on for years, friends and family murdered by the syclarions—my parents both recently killed in a horrific battle in the air over the ocean not far from here. My people were losing the fight.

  I was the only one who could save them; the species now known as the Ancients. The syclarions had to be destroyed so we could live. I hadn’t told anyone about my weapon when I made it.

  I held a staff in my hands, a totem staff. Gargoyle, chimera, dragon, manticore, basilisk, and sphinx. The me of thousands of years ago pulled the syclarions in close, against their will with the power from the dragon. They fought, but couldn’t pull back. They’d murdered my people. My friends and family. The words of my spell crashed into the air and set it on fire.

  First my people vanished. I’d wanted them safe, but I’d sent them out of time and place instead with my uncontrolled weapon. The syclarions were mostly dead. The survivors were far away and genetically devolving.

  Then the memory shattered and I snapped back into the present battle. I threw up. I was an Ancient. A proud, grieving, powerful being who had lashed out in fear and anger. I’d pushed my people into a time void, and sent myself, amnesic and magicless, twenty-five hundred years into the future.

  As if my realization had called them to me, all of the relic pieces broke free of the chest and spell bubble and dropped at my feet. The diamond sphinx hovered in the air in front of me a moment later.

  The current battle in front of me raged on as more syclarions, dwollers, and Dark elves flooded the field.

  Nivinal and Alric were locked in a fight in their bubble. Nivinal couldn’t break the bubble because Alric would slaughter him the moment he turned away his focus.

  Edana wasn’t in sight, but I knew she was here. No one else would have had the sphinx. I also felt her, just like I had twenty-five hundred years ago. She and Nivinal were syclarions. Somehow she’d survived when most of her people hadn’t.

  A yell of pain brought my focus back to the spell bubble. Nivinal had managed to get a strike into the gap in the armor near Alric’s shoulder. Alric stumbled back and the spell bubble fluctuated. He put one hand out and reinforced it. He was focusing far more on the bubble than the fight. The geas mark was still there, but it was fainter than before.

  The geas that commanded him to kill the one who had destroyed the Ancients. I knew they weren’t dead. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but they’d been thrown out of time. They were alive—just not on this plane of existence.

  Somehow I didn’t think that geas really cared about the difference.

  Alric was going to have to kill me.

  Covey ran toward me, mowing through a group of syclarions to do it. We weren’t in the center of the fighting, but that wouldn’t last long once people spotted the relics.

  “Are you okay?”

  Her question brought a hysterical giggle from me that I quickly cut short. I’d just found out I’d sent my people into some murky time void, created the relics that murdered thousands, and the love of my life was going to have to kill me.

  I was never going to be okay again.

  “I can’t explain,” I said as I grabbed her arm. “But whatever happens, and I mean whatever, don’t try to stop Alric. And don’t let anyone else.”

  Covey looked over her shoulder to the spell bubble and frowned. “I don’t think he’s coming out.”

  “I’m going to change that.”

  Covey jumped as I called the relics together and reformed them into the staff. The diamond sphinx reflected the sun from the top. She hadn’t seen them before they moved; judging by the lack of ruckus around us, no one had. At least not until now.

  I’d been rash and over-emotional in my creation of the weapon twenty-five hundred years ago. My people normally fought in their dragon forms for obvious reasons. However, a large dragon claw wouldn’t have been able to wield the staff. That had been deliberate on my part. The syclarions thought us weak for our human form; twenty-five hundred years ago, I had destroyed them in it.

  At Covey’s wide-eyed nod of agreement of my request, I ran to the spell bubble. Alric was barely standing, and clearly losing the fight. I had a feeling that had been his plan once the geas told him I was his intended victim. He hadn’t locked them in that bubble to keep me safe from Nivinal; he’d done it to keep me safe from him. Even a thousand-year old geas couldn’t work from beyond the grave.

  “Stand back, I’m getting you out now!”

  Alric stumbled to my side of the bubble. Nivinal didn’t look much better. “I will not kill you.” He raised his arm with the glowing geas. “This will make it happen, and I can’t. I love you.” He smiled and seemed to be memorizing my face. Then he flung up his sword and blocked a weak attack from Nivinal.

  “I won’t let that happen. I love you too much to let this happen either.” I raised the completed staff weapon over my head. I’d lost too much—I wasn’t losing him too.

  “No! You can’t use that. You won’t. Please.” The love, pain, and sorrow in his bright green eyes as he spoke brought my arm down. The bubble didn’t disable the geas, but it weakened it enough for him to be himself.

  I glanced over the battlefield, images of the old battle intermixed with the new one. One of the minkies popped up in front of me.

  “Follow heart—not fear.” Cryptic little bugger. Now that I knew who I was, I knew who they were. Spirit animals of the Ancients. Edana had blocked them, the faeries, and the constructs from the final battle twenty-five hundred years ago using tricks the vhin had given her. I shifted the staff in my hand. I was far calmer and more balanced than I had been then. I could save my friends this time and only destroy our enemies.

  But this staff wasn’t going to be a part of it. I snapped the staff in half, then quickly changed form into my dragon shape and stomped on it with both front feet.

  An enormous wave of magic slammed into the world from the destroyed weapon as one by one the relics shattered to dust. I managed to stay standing, but most people in the field went down.

  Edana screamed, I knew where she was at the back of the field, and knew she would soon be upon me. Before anyone could recover, I swung my tail and shattered Alric’s spell bubble. I was prepared for him to try to attack me, but not for him to not move at all.

  Nivinal stumbled toward me with a snarl, but I stomped him into the ground with both magic and weight. Then I changed back to my human form and ran to Alric. The geas mark was gone. He was alive but the rattle in his chest told me that wouldn’
t last for long. Now that I knew who and what I was, I knew my limits; I could tell at a touch that I couldn’t save him.

  “Help me!” I sensed Orenda before I saw her running my way. She’d been close enough that I knew she had seen what just happened, but she didn’t hesitate to run to Alric’s side.

  Her armor clanked as she dropped down and threw off her gauntlets. “I’ll need your help.” She held out her hand and I flashed back to another time of her and me saving Alric. I had more power now than before, but as much as we tried, we couldn’t stop his life from slipping away.

  I grabbed Alric’s head as if I could bring him back by sheer will alone. “No!”

  His eyes fluttered open but their light was fading. “We broke the geas. I will always love you.” His eyes closed and he slipped away from us.

  My sobs were echoed by Orenda’s. A small hand gently pushed mine aside from his chest.

  I flung open my eyes, ready to destroy anyone who got between him and me.

  Amara looked down at me gently as her power flowed to Alric.

  “This could kill you too.” I had accepted me dying with Alric, but I didn’t want my friends to as well. Pulling someone back from the dead was beyond even my power.

  A goddess might be able to do it.

  “No, I will live. As a mortal dryad. I freely give my power.” She looked down at him and smiled. “His love and sacrifice destroyed the geas before he died. This is good.”

  Without another word, she took my hand, drawing in as much power as I could give. I might or might not have had dryad in my family—but my magic felt right at home with hers.

  Alric spasmed, then gasped raggedly. His opened eyes were the best sight I’d ever seen. “Are we dead? I know I died.”

  Foxy ran to us as Amara collapsed. She looked pale, no longer glowing, but she was breathing.

  “Amara brought you back.” I wiped away my tears and kissed him gently.

  “You saved me. I told you to let me die.” His breathing was uneven and he looked like a three hundred-year-old drunken cherub could have knocked him over.