by S. T. Bende
Please, gods, let me survive.
I sucked down one last gulp of air before the smoke-snake circled my neck. Only seconds had passed, but already the edges of my vision were going dark. The pressure on my windpipe was pushing me to the edge of consciousness. Through the fog, I made out the shadowy figure of my grandfather marching toward me. And behind him . . . no. They couldn’t be that stupid. We’d seen what Rankin did to Constance—it would be a suicide mission to get anywhere near him. And the faeries were smarter than that.
Weren’t they?
A white beam lit the sky. It struck the ground with a thunderous boom, rattling the snake loose. I drew a generous breath, orienting myself just in time to see Rankin raise a hand behind him. Without looking back, he shot a black beam from his palm. It struck the faerie who’d been brave enough to come after me, singeing his wing and sending him spiraling downward. Another white beam rocketed downward, this one followed by a pair of älva. Rankin downed them as quickly as he had the first. His lips curved up in a cruel smile as he sent an additional bolt into the cypress grove where the remaining members of the airborne unit were perched. They scattered, taking to the skies as the bolt ignited the grove where they’d been just seconds before.
Fly. I pushed the thought into the air, hoping Maja could still hear me. Tell your dad and Viggo to get the hell out of here before—oh, gods!
Rankin’s hand was raised. His fingers curled inward as he pulled me closer. Only ten yards separated us now, and being this close to such an intense level of darkness sent my stomach roiling. I wanted to lash out; to fire silvery beams into the hole where his heart should have been. But I wasn’t strong enough to kill him. None of us were. And fighting him off was only going to get us all hurt. Or worse.
The only way to defeat Rankin was to surrender.
The älva were regrouping over Rankin’s shoulder. Whether he sensed them or not, I couldn’t tell. But the moment I spotted the familiar, silver wings of the guy who’d owned my heart since that first infuriating, “Hey, Glitre,” in the dining hall, I knew I didn’t have a choice. I focused on the buzzing swarm inside of me, projected it outward, and locked myself within a dome of darkness.
I was trapped with Rankin, encased within a coliseum of my own making. Only instead of lions, I faced off against a monster. And instead of cheering spectators, I was surrounded by a friend-family who’d been willing to give their lives to save mine. I sensed Viggo’s panic somewhere outside the dome—his fear for my safety somehow channeling through the shared mark on our wings, and burying itself deep within my heart. But I knew what I was doing.
I hope.
With a breath, I dropped my shoulders and shook my hands at my sides. The power buzzed within me, firing up and down my torso like a series of detonations. As Rankin moved closer, I drew it down my arms, loading my palms and waiting for just the right moment.
Rankin was going to die.
“I must say, I am impressed.” He took another step forward. The darkness surrounding him weighed me down, pressing against my chest in a way that made breathing nearly impossible. “You conjured a dark dome all on your own. You do have potential, don’t you, granddaughter?”
Instead of responding, I re-opened the hole in my bubble—the one I used to draw darkness in. I held myself perfectly still as I willed the swarm inside of me to invite their friends—specifically, the ones pouring off of Rankin in an infinite stream of horror. They were only too willing to comply, firing at me in a jet of pure evil. Pain rocked my nerves as they poured into my body. The light in my chest was all but doused as a weight I’d never experienced pressed down on my heart. I was drowning—being suffocated by the very thing I’d invited in. But I knew it was the only way. Rankin was too powerful for any light being to defeat. Which meant that, at least for now, I had to go dark.
Even if it hurt like a mother.
A fresh wave of fear jolted my wing, and I knew Viggo was trying to break through to help me. But I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let Rankin know that at that very moment, a half-dozen älva were gathered just outside the dome, fighting to get in. Their white beams bounced right off the bubble, silenced by the cloak I’d created around Rankin and me. Soon enough, I could drop the barrier . . . and I’d need them to be ready when I did. But things were about to get messy. And I couldn’t have their blood on my hands.
A shudder wracked my spine as I drew one final hit on Rankin’s energy. Then I uncurled my fists, lifted my palms, and let the sparks course through me.
The release was nearly euphoric.
Pain mixed with pleasure as a stream of dark, grey light burst from my hands. It struck Rankin in the chest, launching him off the ground so he slammed against the barrier I’d placed around us. The älva dove, lighting the sky up with bolts that dissipated the moment they hit the blockade.
Too soon, I pressed.
Rankin picked himself up, rage igniting his soulless eyes. “If that’s how you want to do things . . .”
I squared my shoulders and released another surge. This one hit him in his shoulder, spinning him around so his back was to me. I’d learned enough at the academy to know a strike to his third energy center would seriously weaken him, not to mention deliver a blow to his confidence. Narrowing my eyes, I directed my next attack to the center of his back. This time, instead of pushing him down, my beam struck lightly then retreated. As I called it back to me, I drew more of Rankin’s power, more of his darkness. My body absorbed it like a sponge, quickly melding it with the light in my chest until a new, more intense blend coursed through me. I sent an offensive strike at Rankin’s base center, thrilling when he dropped to his knees. But without warning, he flung a hand up. A black bolt jarred my chest, and I stumbled backward, clutching at what felt like a massive hole right over my heart. I fired off a retaliatory beam, then pulled another hit-and-draw on Rankin’s third center. When I was fully charged up, I raised both hands and struck with everything I had.
Rankin crumbled to the ground. His limbs shook and his face scrunched in a look of clear agony. But even as he convulsed, he slowly pushed himself upward. He wasn’t giving up. In fact, he was getting stronger—somehow drawing strength from the charges I’d thought would kill him. My plan wasn’t working.
And I didn’t know what else to do.
“Is that all you have? Hmm?” Rankin’s eyes had turned almost completely black. He staggered toward me, limping like a creature out of a horror movie. “Because if you’re truly to drive the realms to war, you’re going to need to deliver more than that. This, maybe.”
Rankin curled his fingers and I was wrenched from the ground. My feet kicked the air as something thick wrapped around my throat. My hands flew to my neck, but I clawed at nothing. My chest seized and breathing grew impossible, the airflow blocked by an invisible cord that refused to yield.
“Or this, perhaps.”
A fierce stabbing pierced my gut. I relinquished my hold on my neck as I fought to remove whatever blade Rankin had driven into my stomach. Although my hands closed around thin air, the stabbing continued to shoot wave after wave of agony from my skin to my spine. Was this how I was going to die?
“Or, possibly, this.”
Fog clouded the edges of my vision and as I closed my eyes, I howled in agony. Every inch of my skin, from my scalp to my toes, erupted in boiling, surging, flames. I swiped desperately at my arms, fighting to extinguish the fire that was sure to consume me. But when I opened my eyes I realized the fire was in my mind. My skin remained untouched . . . though the sensations didn’t let up.
“Face it, granddaughter. You’ll never defeat me. We can continue this little game, or . . .” Rankin closed the distance between us. He reached up with one, pointed fingernail, and scraped it lightly beneath my chin. “. . . you can accept your prophesy and come willingly. I promise it will be a lot less painful.”
On the last word, Rankin sent a fresh wave of fire coursing over my skin. I shrieked, no longer able to main
tain any sense of control. The silvery blend inside of me flickered, then died out. This was it. This was how it was going to end. After everything Signy had taught me on Midgard, everything I’d learned at the academy, all of the drills Viggo and I had run in Verge training, all the work I’d done with Maja . . . all of it had been for nothing. I’d been too weak to overpower the one being whose darkness could drive the entire cosmos to war . . . so long as I was at his side.
As the pain overtook me, and blackness colored my vision, I closed my eyes and sent one final thought to everyone who’d put their faith in me.
I’m sorry.
Chapter 16
I HEARD THE BATTLE before I saw it. It raged around me, electrified zaps and hisses blasting through the air, lighting up the night even behind my closed eyelids. I blinked them open, immediately regretting my decision as my brain was assaulted with a strobe-like series of flashes. Something swooped out of the sky, diving low and delivering what looked to be a lightning bolt into the ground. The earth trembled, rocking me where I lay in a tight ball. My arms released their hold on my knees, and I pressed my palms to the dirt, pushing myself into a seated position. All around me, winged warriors threw bolts of white light, dive-bombed a shadowy figure huddled beneath a filmy, black shield, and drove glowing, arm-length swords into the translucent bubble that surrounded him. The warriors were fierce, but their opponent appeared unharmed. How was a single being outmaneuvering an entire army?
My spine stiffened and I sat upright with a jolt. This was no ordinary being. This was Rankin, master dark mage, lead senator of Svartalfheim, and the man intent on using me to destroy the realms. This was a battle we stood very little chance of winning. But losing wasn’t an option.
It never had been.
The world spun around me as I pushed myself to my feet. Everything hurts! I stumbled backward, steadying myself on the trunk of a nearby cypress. It was thick, and sturdy, and I opened the centers in my hands to pull on its steadying strength. As I did, soft footsteps sounded from my right. I turned, fists drawn, ready to fend off whoever had come to force me into a life I most definitely did not want.
“Down, girl. It’s only me.” Viggo’s familiar voice sent a waterfall of relief coursing through me. I exhaled in relief, resting my forearms on my knees as he ran to my side. When he reached me, he stood back, hesitating.
“What’s wrong?” My words came on a raspy breath. My chest burned, as if a smoldering fire raged deep inside it. And my skin felt as if it had just been put through a pizza oven, then deposited on the surface of the sun.
“I don’t want to make it worse,” Viggo said quietly. “You’re . . . smoking.”
Still doubled over, I glanced at my bare arm. My skin looked intact, but sure enough, a faint mist rose from its surface. It reminded me of a mountain stream on a frosty day, when the heat of the water gently rose to form a pearlescent fog. Only instead of white, this fog was black. And instead of delivering peace, the mist sent me into a full-on panic.
“It’s him.” I scrambled backward, swatting at my arms. “I let his energy inside me, thinking I could overpower him by becoming him. But it didn’t work, and now—”
Viggo closed the distance between us, placing his hands on my arms and making my panic surge harder.
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed. “It might infect you, too, and—”
“Aura, look at me.” Viggo’s voice was commanding. Controlled. He wrapped firm hands around my shoulders, and lowered his head so our eyes were level. “You’re not going to infect me, but you do need to help me. We’re getting destroyed out there.”
He jutted his head over his shoulder just as Rankin fired a black bolt at an oncoming älva. The faerie was thrown off course, and sent spiraling into the trunk of a nearby tree. She crumbled to the ground in a heap, her body bent at an unnatural angle.
Oh, gods.
“Tell me what to do.” I swiped at my arms again, trying not to freak out at the thin layer of smoke still rising from my skin.
“Take one of these.” Viggo released my shoulders. He reached for his waist and drew one of the Dual Swords from his sheath. I reached for its hilt, but quickly withdrew my hand.
“What if this . . . stuff”—I waved my hand in front of my body—“—inside of me hurts it?”
Viggo shrugged. “We’ll do what we always do. We’ll figure it out. Together.”
My insides warmed, and a fresh surge of black steam rose from my skin. I tried not to shudder as I was enveloped in a murky fog. Viggo reached for his waist, grabbed hold of his own sword and drew it from its sheath. It glowed a light blue before sending a charge at my sword. They’d done this before—hit each other with some sort of energetic high-five—so it wasn’t completely foreign. But this time, the charge traveled up my arm, pinging through my torso before settling around my heart. Heat radiated through me, pushing against my ribcage as if someone had turned on a slow-cooker in my chest. My eyes widened as the temperature increased, and I reached out to grasp Viggo’s hand as a surge of steam radiated from my body. The air was immediately filled with the stench of sulfur, and I tried not to gag as the black fog rolled over me. But a second later the stench—and the steam—were gone. My skin had ceased smoking, and I was left feeling as close to normal as a girl could, after her magic sword had cleansed her grandpa’s dark energy from her body.
Oh my gods, my life.
“Whoa.” Viggo squeezed my hand. “You okay?”
“Never better.” I groaned as I righted myself. Releasing Viggo’s hand, I swung my sword in a light circle and assessed the mountaintop battlefield. “Where are we needed?”
“That’s my Glitre.” Viggo grinned. “Rafe’s team are hitting Rankin from all sides, but he’s got himself barricaded inside that shield. You said that energetic protections don’t work against physical attacks, right?”
“In most cases,” I corrected. “But this guy’s got a whole other level of crazy going on.”
“Agreed.” Viggo narrowed his eyes. “My best guess is that if we coordinate with the air and ground teams—let them drive him back while we ambush him from the sides—we stand the greatest chance of success.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
Viggo shrugged. “We go down fighting.”
“Viggo!”
“I’m kidding. There’s, like, thirty of us. And one of him. We’ve got this.”
I nodded. We did have this. Because if we didn’t . . .
No. Don’t go there, Aura.
“Okay,” I said. I drew my shoulders back, and tried not to freak out at the charge my sword sent through my arm. It was almost as if it was saying, yes. We do got this. “Gamma formation, on your mark.”
Viggo pulled his elbows back and crouched low to the ground. “In three,” he announced. “Two. One.”
We launched ourselves into the air, and barreled for opposite sides of the monster hellbent on destroying us all. At some point while I’d been blacked out, Rankin had crossed the stream that fed to the waterfall’s mouth. Viggo and I flew over it together, making sure to stay out of Rankin’s field of ocular vision. Whether he could see us with his third eye, or whatever he had going on, was anyone’s guess. Once we’d cleared the water, Viggo hooked left while I swung right. He raised his sword in the air, signaling to the aerial unit that we were going in. In the distance, Rafe pulled back, no doubt reworking whatever strategy he had in play. But I couldn’t think about him just then—the gamma formation led with a heavy attack, and I needed all of my focus on my target. He stood a hundred yards away, sheltered beneath a black dome that extended just beyond his arm’s reach. We’d be on top of him in half a minute, and if that thing was functioning . . .
Maja. You there? I hoped our connection was restored now that I was free of my self-imposed blocker.
Now you’re talking to me? That stunt you pulled was beyond stupid. Never silence your—
Shut up and listen, I pressed. We need to break that shield. Do you ha
ve a lock on my location?
Do I look like this is my first battle?
Since tensions ran high, I let the sarcasm slide. I’m going to hit him at his five o’clock. If you hit his seven, Viggo and I will both be able to slide in.
On it. Resolve filled Maja’s tone. But you and I are going to have words when this is ov—
Going in!
I fired a beam at Rankin’s right flank. His spine straightened as my attack pierced his shield, and he quickly whirled on one heel to face me. As he did, a second beam struck his left flank—this one thicker, more forceful, and loaded with considerably more darkness. Maja was livid.
Let him have it, I urged.
I am. Her words came on a grunt as she sent another beam at Rankin.
Not wanting to be outdone—and also, needing to expand the hole I intended to slide through—I mirrored her attack. Rankin shifted back and forth. He must have deduced Maja’s blows were more damaging than mine, since he turned to his left and raised his hand in the direction of his supposed assailant. Only, Maja was projecting her attack. Which meant that when Rankin uncurled his fingers and fired off a black bolt, it headed straight for—
“Viggo! Look out!” I shrieked as Rankin’s death dagger barreled down on my boyfriend. Viggo swerved at the last second, spiraling out of harm’s way before raising his sword and diving through the hole Maja had created with her beam. Knowing Rankin’s focus would be on Viggo, I flapped harder and lifted my own sword. As Viggo sliced at my grandfather’s ribcage, I tucked through the opening I’d bored and drove my sword into Rankin’s right thigh. A fierce cry rang through the mountaintop, echoing off the trees and driving the few birds that hadn’t evacuated to take flight. As Rankin’s knee gave out, I wrenched myself to the right, circling back and striking again—this time, slightly higher. Blood spurted from Rankin’s groin, and I swiped at the sticky liquid coating my arm as I flew out of his reach. When I circled back again, Rankin lay on his side. The dirt beneath him was stained with red, and though he’d obviously lost a lot of blood, he hadn’t given up his fight. He’d managed to reseal his barrier. Viggo continued to strike from behind, but his sword couldn’t pierce the shield. If Rankin gathered enough strength to strike again . . .