His deranged eyes regarded me, his head tilting as if to get a better look. There was an invasiveness to his stare. The air thinned, and I sucked in deeper breaths. He laughed hollowly, devoid of humor, as the plants and trees in the area died.
“You’re sucking the air out.”
He laughed again as I fell to my knees. Adius’s bloodshot eyes found mine. Neoma gasped for breaths, and only then did the necromancer stop, allowing us breath before it took our lives. “Be lucky I need her alive.”
“Please, don’t,” I pleaded, knowing it wouldn’t do much good, but it was worth something to try. Without the Sword, we were nothing but at his mercy, needing a miracle.
“Winter, run.” Adius’s gaze narrowed, tears pinching the corners of his eyes. “Get out of here. He’ll kill you.”
Prickles ran over my skin, sending goose bumps along my body. Adius stood, brandishing his sword. The river trickled, babbling down rocks that led up the banks on either side. Licia watched us, apology in his eyes as he took the opportunity to hurry himself and the girl away. I cursed under my breath as they rushed between the trees, disappearing from sight.
The necromancer held the Sword of Impervius with amusement in his stare and a terrifying laugh trickling from his lips. “Will you die for a woman you do not know?”
Neoma looked up at Adius, then turned her head to look at me. “Help me,” she cried, and my stomach knotted.
“Adius, don’t.” I reached out, gripping the air as he stood between the necromancer and Neoma.
“Run, Winter.” He stepped forward.
I ran, but toward them. If I could get the Sword of Impervius, I could…
The world slowed around me. My lips parted and a gasp escaped them as my eyes refused to believe the scene unfolding.
The blade pushed through Adius’s torso, soaking blood through his unform and forming streams between cracks in his armor. Shock widened his eyes as he moved his gaze down to the blood-stricken blade.
The necromancer wrenched it back, and Adius fell to his knees. Holding his hands over his stomach, he turned to look at me, struggling to release the final words from his lips, but they dried out before I could hear them. He fell forward and his face pressed into the mud on the bank.
Tears blurred my vision as my hands shot to my mouth. Neoma screamed, pressing her back against the cage. The necromancer simply laughed.
“I’m going to kill you,” I promised, my fury-drenched stare on him.
“It shall be amusing to watch you try.”
“To watch us try.” Morgana stepped out from the tree line, holding the Dagger of Ruin in her hands. Only she could resist its lures, a curse to turn mortals mad. I almost burst out crying when I saw her, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She glanced down at Adius, then back at the necromancer. “You spread nothing but death.” Her voice resonated, and for a second, I swear I saw him wince. “You are a plague upon this world, and I will gladly be the one to take you out of it. Where you are going, there will be no coming back.”
“You think yourself stronger than me?”
She held her head high. “We will always be because we belong here, in the world of the living. We get to feel what it is to be alive.”
“I know how it feels to live.”
She shook her head. “You know nothing of life.” She gripped the Dagger in one hand and her staff in the other. Lifting her staff in the air, she closed her eyes. “Ancestors, help me destroy this wart on our world.”
My heart hammered when the spirit of my brother appeared, moving through the river with others. Their pained stares sent a sharp pain through my chest. They surrounded Morgana, and unity pulled them together. The twisted faces of the elders came to them too, helping Morgana power magic at the necromancer. The elders were keeping the other souls in line. I didn’t see my father’s spirit there, but he was surely watching. Why was she letting the elders, the villains of everything we believed, help her?
“You came here to use our spirit realm, our most sacred river, for your own gain: to use our ancestor’s energy to power a ritual to bring back your dead lover.” Morgana spat on the ground, and the elders nodded along with her. Many of the elders’ expressions were filled with light when compared to the frustration in the other souls. “Now, we will show you true power.” Her staff swirled with blues and whites, moving around at dizzying speed.
The air began to vibrate energy, creating a force field around us. He pushed back with an energy blast of his own, knocking me back and slamming Neoma against the bars of her cage with a skull-scrunching thud. I winced, checking the rise and fall of her stomach for breathing as she lay unconscious. I sighed relief; she was breathing.
Branches from trees cracked as they fell to the ground, breaking their twigs into patches of flowers and stretches of mud. Soil swept into the river, muddying it, and leaves circled with gusts of winds. The necromancer placed his hands in front of him as if to stop the pulse of energy moving from Morgana’s staff. His dark eyes rounded. He let out a low growl, pushing a vibration from him. A tree trunk uprooted and flew through the air at Morgana.
She blocked it with a shielding spell as the ancestors and elders surrounded her, chanting, powering her further. André weakened, fading with the others until he was nothing. More souls joined them when the others’ powers had been drained. Sadness tugged my heart to go to him, but my brother was gone, replenishing his energy somewhere in the spirit realm. The elders never waned, with the rest of the dead taking the brunt of powering Morgana’s blasts of magic.
The necromancer closed his eyes, breathing steadily, then opened them again. A murder of crows darted from the trees toward Morgana, their beaks pointed, murderously intent. His ease of using animals unnerved me. The winds picked up speed until it was hard to take a step forward. Morgana screamed three words in a language I didn’t know, and the birds died midair and fell to the ground with a couple dozen thuds.
Morgana swept water from the river and knocked him back, slipping him into the rocks of the rapid waters. I turned away while she was in control. Her wealth of knowledge made her his strongest contender. She’d devoured every spell book allowed in Magaelor, and even those that weren’t. That, and channeling the ancestors through being in the veil, meant she was a force to be reckoned with.
A gust of wind knocked me to my knees. After crawling through dead snakes, crow carcasses, and mud, I made it to the lock on Neoma’s cage. Adius had done a good job at trying to pick it with a small knife. I squeezed my eyes shut as I moved his body out of the way. Using his small blade, I pushed it in as far as it would go, steadying my breathing. A rumbling thunder sounded behind me. I whipped my head back and saw the drenched necromancer pulling lightning down to the river.
I turned back and twisted the blade, then wiggled it for a good minute before I felt it click. I pulled open the cage and dragged her out. Blood had dried at the end of her brown curls—hers or Adius’s, I was unsure.
“Winter!”
Morgana’s scream turned me. I placed Neoma down. The energy of the ancestors was dwindling, and without enough souls, the elders themselves weakened. Their ghostly faces held tortured expressions, as parts of them faded. Her eyes widened when I approached her. The necromancer rushed at her as the staff in her hands splintered, then cracked down the middle. He tilted his head, and she looked at him intently, a knowing look in her eyes.
“The tether to the spirit realm is in the river,” she called to me. “You’ll know it when you feel it. The elder’s energy is weakened now. They won’t be able to stop you. End this all.” She threw me the Dagger and it landed in a puddle of sloshed mud in front of me.
“What are you doing?” I screamed. She couldn’t kill him without it.
The blade of the Sword cut through the air at an impossible speed. She closed her eyes, placing her hands against her chest. A knowing smile graced her lips when the blade landed a fatal blow, cutting through her shoulder and part of her neck.
>
I stared in disbelief for several seconds before a howl I didn’t recognize erupted from my throat. He smiled sadistically, stretching his thin, blood-spattered lips. It had to be a bad dream. This couldn’t be happening. Vomit climbed my throat and reached its destination, pouring from my lips. I wretched as her blood spilled over the bank. My heart broke, cracking with each beat. My tears fell thick and fast as all the fight withered from my body. The vision of suffering I’d told Morgana, it had come true. I felt as if I were going to die, like the heartache might kill me.
“No!” The necromancer’s scream rattled the trees. He curled his fingers as he appeared to suck inward, his skin taut against his bones. He struggled for breath, stumbling forward. “She bound us.”
My jaw hung open; my fingers still curled into the mud. That must have been why she had been looking through all those books. She was binding her life with the necromancer’s. He’d once possessed us, and I bet she used that connection to do it. She’d meant to die. She’d meant to drain the elders so I could destroy the spirit realm.
Morgana had sacrificed everything for Magaelor. Only that forced me to my feet. Tears falling, I walked to the necromancer as he dropped to the ground. I spat on him, and through gritted teeth, I sneered, “Rot in death, you vile beast. May you never find peace.” I snarled as he strangled his last breath, his eyes closing before he fell limp.
FORTY
The river crashed white against jagged rocks. The water no longer resembled clear waters to the pebbled bottom but instead mixed with mud and blood, clouding the area around me. I held my breath as my hands trembled to hold the hilt of the Sword of Impervius, which I’d torn from the necromancer’s cold fingers. The handle of the Dagger warmed against my skin in its sheath, ready to be used if the Sword didn’t work. I glanced at Neoma as she sat up. She glanced around, panicked, then scrambled into the woods after seeing the dead bodies.
“I will end this today. Your death won’t be in vain,” I whispered to Morgana, hoping she could hear me. I inhaled shakily, the water dropping a few degrees in minutes. The veil pulsated, as if it knew oblivion was close and I was to deliver it.
Ghostly faces of my ancestors, their faces shrouded with anger, wisped in an illusory dance around me. I felt their energy, piercing rage into me. I clamped my eyes shut, whispering for strength as the elder ancestors tried to weaken me. Morgana luring them to fuel her energy to fight the necromancer had made it harder for them. The Sword almost toppled from my fingers. If the water claimed it, it would be game over.
I shuddered, wondering what they’d have been able to do if they hadn’t been drained. Even in their weakened states, they still had some effect over me. Spirits didn’t talk in the realm, but they could here, in the veil. The ghostly figures turned into flesh and bone, appearing as André once had.
“You tempt to destroy your ancestors, young queen?” one of the elders taunted from behind me.
My energy wilted, and a pressure grew in my head. “I am not.” I gasped as I felt my brain swell against my skull.
“Let go of the Sword. Give it to the river, or we will hurt them.”
I knew they were talking about Morgana, André, and Adius. My heart ballooned, but I wouldn’t let them sway me. They wouldn’t die or suffer for nothing. My lips quivered. Cold prickled my ankles and calves, forcing twitches through them. “Never.” I gave everything I had not to drop it. Currents strengthened as I attempted to wade through the raging waters. I couldn’t be far from the spot. Morgana said I would feel it when I reached it. Shaking, I pushed on as the elders grew closer.
One, who had once been an elderly woman, attempted to reach me, but her touch fell through my arm. “Do not forsake us.” Her voice hollowed as the words poured.
Whispers of pain surrounded them as others came. The trees lining the riverbank cast shadows over where I walked. I ventured into a darker, murkier part where the waters calmed. The surface hit my torso as the riverbed deepened. My heart pounded, the freezing temperatures standing every hair on my exposed skin on end. My icy fingers tightened around the hilt of the Sword.
The elders followed, shouting in echo—some taunting, others pleading, and many angry—lost in a mixture of unintelligible whispering. I could feel their want to attack me, but they were too tired. I silently praised Morgana for her brilliance, her sacrifice pushing me to keep going.
Something moved around my ankles. I peered down, and my heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t see beneath the surface, but whatever it was, more joined it. Flickers of touch sent a shudder down my spine. My teeth chattered as I forced one foot in front of the other. The branches hanging overhead shadowed grappling fingers, appearing to ripple under the final arrows of sunlight. Sunset loomed on the horizon, pressing me to hurry. The stench of decaying plants and rotten eggs made me wretch, and the water darkened to a murky green.
“You are weak.” One of the elders, a young man with long hair tied back with bands, snarled. “You reject the ones who have given you power… who have protected you.” He was taller than the rest. “We aided you on your journey. It was us who gave you the strength to fight the merfolk before.”
My voice stuttered from my lips as I white-knuckled the Sword. “I am only weak because you’re trying to take my energy,” I said through clenched teeth. Hundreds crowded the river and me but were unable to touch me. I forced myself ahead, flicking my eyes along the water’s surface so not to be distracted. “You helped me because you foolishly believed I would join your plan, like my father had and his father, but I am not like them.” A jolt of energy straightened my slumping posture. “You use the souls of my people, of your people once, to fuel an afterlife for yourself. You have forsaken us, and now, because of Morgana and others who fight for this kingdom, your terror will end.”
The Sword shook in my grip. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could carry it. My eyes began to close as lures of slumber came in waves. They were taking everything from me. I tried to force my eyes open to continue searching for the source, but the blackness behind my lids was tempting.
Then I felt it. It was like a beating heart sprawled over the riverbed. I peeled back my eyelids, and the corner of my lip curved. The water was deathly still in that area, far from the safety of the banks back there. The river had narrowed, twisting around high mounds and bare trees leading into the darkness of the forest. It was the same place I had once felt safe in; a sacred, beautiful area now tainted with the lies and betrayal of those who died centuries ago. I glanced at the banks where Adius and I had walked earlier in the day and pressed my lips together to stop my tears.
The elders’ fingers grasped for the Sword as I pushed it deep into the water, never letting go. I knew I couldn’t. They would have the current drag it away, burying it under the riverbed where I couldn’t reach it.
My heart pounded as I pushed it farther. In the riverbed was a pulsating thing. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was what I needed to stab from seeing their panicked expressions.
A harsh current hit me at the same time something touched my hands. A wave knocked me back. The Sword tumbled from my hands. “No!” I screamed, my voice drying. Water poured into my mouth, gurgling my cry. Reaching through the river, I felt around for it, but it wasn’t there. The ancestors sneered and rejoiced, taunting me once more. I ducked under the water and felt around the muck, but it was gone. I opened my eyes under the water, but I couldn’t see a thing.
With the Sword gone, they came for me next. Something slimy wrapped around my neck and tightened against my throat. My last breath felt heavy in my chest. I couldn’t stand, and my legs buckled, laying me on the bottom of the river. Spluttering, I grasped at the surface. I could feel the pulsing heart of the veil under my body and hands. It was three times the size of me and felt hard but alive. I was kept down as roots and vines took on new life, wrapping around my wrists and ankles until the need for air was too much.
Stars filled my vision as I drowned. Panic jolted me, convulsing my b
ody to rise, but the weeds and plants of the river, manipulated by magic, held me down.
The final flickers of energy drifted from my body, and I opened my mouth. I had failed my final task, and no one else would know how to do it. There would be another high priest appointed, and the cycle would continue. My brother would not find peace, and Louis would take the throne. Morgana would have died for nothing. I fought back against the vines, pulling on the slimy plants.
A lump formed in my throat as water filled my mouth, but nothing pulled into my lungs. My need for survival blocked my taking in the water, but my lungs felt as if they would combust under the pressure. I couldn’t even drown properly.
Hands pulled me from of the water, ripping the vines from my hands and feet. Spluttering, I tried to suck in a breath once I emerged, but nothing happened. I opened my mouth, panicking, then a gush of air swept into my mouth and lungs.
It was painful to breathe at first, and the coughing forced me to double over. It was only when it subsided that I wondered who had saved me.
Tears ran in the lines of waters trickling from my dripping-wet hair as it slicked down my cheeks and forehead. “Morgana.” My hand shot to my mouth. My heart swelled. She nodded over my shoulder, and I turned to see André. “Brother.”
“Do it now,” he said firmly, ferocity lining his features.
Next to me, Adius smiled. “Tell Florence I love her, and I’m sorry.”
“I will. I promise.” Hesitance shook me. “I don’t want you to go.” I pressed my lips together, my tears falling thick and fast. The ancestors were kept back, and I could tell it was taking Morgana, Adius, and André everything they had. Some others I didn’t recognize had joined them to help keep the elders from me, to save me.
“They’re from the battle,” he said quickly, seeing me look around at the spirits of men and women. “They want peace, Winter. We want peace. We don’t have much left in us after fighting the necromancer. You must do it now.”
The Fate of Crowns: The Complete Trilogy: A YA Epic Fantasy Boxset Page 84