I nodded and swiped at the wetness on my cheeks, under the mask. Jude reached out to grip my hand for just a second, then let go. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “You go left, and I’ll go right. Watch for me to move first. Once he’s distracted, attack.”
I stared at him, at his scarred face and his familiar eyes, and nodded.
“Tell my brother that I love him,” he said, his voice suddenly choked. And then he turned and was gone.
I stood there frozen, tears running down my face beneath my mask, until another huge boom sounded from behind me, followed by more screams. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a vast hole in the Antionese army. The opening in the wall where the gate had once been was like a gaping mouth spewing Blevonese soldiers and sorcerers into our midst. They were hewing the Antion soldiers down as if they were ants. I thought I caught a glimpse of Borracio’s dark head. And Iker just stood there, watching. What was he waiting for?
Clenching my jaw, I forced myself to turn and push my way toward the steps to the palace. I had to stop this. I shoved soldiers out of my way, but most of them weren’t paying any attention to me; they stared at the oncoming army, waiting for it to reach them.
Finally, I was only a few people back from the edge of the stairs. Iker stood far above me, surveying the massacre. As I watched, he lifted the hand that was covered in the strange glove, palm raised toward the sky. He closed his eyes, a look of almost blissful happiness on his face. I stared in horror as a ball of fire suddenly materialized above his hand, swelling and growing, until it was three times the size of his head. His eyes opened again, and with a horrifying grin of pleasure, he flung his arm and the ball of fire rushed through the air. I spun around and saw it crash into the front line of Blevonese soldiers and sorcerers, sending bodies and dirt flying as it exploded with a blinding boom of fire and smoke.
Many of our own army turned to stare at Iker in horror, but he was already summoning the fire again. And then they had no choice but to keep fighting as more Blevonese soldiers rushed forward with swords raised. I didn’t see Eljin or Rylan or Damian or anyone I knew.
It was now or never.
I turned back to Iker, and noticed Jude creeping up the stairs toward him while the sorcerer’s eyes were shut, creating his next fireball. I did the same, staying a few steps lower, crouched near to the ground, my hand slick with sweat on the hilt of my sword.
Iker opened his eyes and threw the fireball at the oncoming army again, and just as he did, Jude stood and hurtled up the stairs at him, sword raised.
Iker spun to face him with a look of anger at being interrupted. As soon as his back was to me, I jumped up and ran toward him as well. I knew Iker wouldn’t spare Jude, but it still took everything in me not to cry out when he turned his gloved hand at my friend and shot a stream of fire into Jude. Tears of fury and anguish burned my eyes as he flew backward down the steps, landing on the bottom, his body broken and charred.
With a scream of rage, I hit the top of the steps and rushed at Iker, sword in the air.
IKER SPUN TO face me, his eyes widening momentarily, and then a look of grim satisfaction crossed his face. I was sure he recognized me, even with the mask. He lifted his hand, but I was ready for it and twisted out of the way. The jet of fire just missed me. With another scream, I swung my sword with all of my might at him, but I felt the shield go up right before my sword would have cut through his abdomen. My arms shook from the impact, and I had to spin while ducking to the ground to avoid another jet of fire. It hit the door instead, which burst into flames behind me.
I had to be better than this — faster than this — or else he was going to kill me.
“I knew you’d come for me,” he said before lifting his hand again. I threw myself to the ground, rolling as fast as I could, but I wasn’t fast enough. The edge of the fire scorched the left side of my body. Pain exploded across my cheek, neck, and shoulder. The smell of my own flesh burning nearly made me throw up. But I forced myself to jump to my feet, still gripping my sword with my right hand, and barely dodged yet another stream of fire.
This time, when I swung my sword at him, he was still trying to hit me with the fire, and didn’t get his shield up as fast. I managed to get a piece of his left arm with my blade before the power of his shield knocked me to the ground. My head hit the stone, and I lay there dazed for a moment, knowing I was going to burn.
But when my vision cleared, I saw Iker gripping his left forearm, his hand hanging useless at his side, blood rushing from his wrist. He howled, an almost inhuman sound. Grabbing his sword, he lunged at me.
I scrambled back and collided with the wall. Just before Iker ran me through with his blade, I threw my body’s weight to the side, rolling across the ground and coming up into a crouch, ignoring the excruciating pain radiating down the left side of my body. He turned to face me, fury mottling his features.
“You think to stop me? You think you can defeat me? You have no idea the power I wield, little girl.”
There wasn’t even time for me to be shocked that he knew my secret, because he was stretching his arms out to both sides, his left hand bent at a funny angle and blood dripping to the stones below. That same horrible scent from his chamber all those weeks ago filled the air. He closed his eyes again, but this time, a cloud of darkness began to form in front of him, rising from his blood on the ground, crackling with power. I could see it, flashing like lightning within the depths of whatever black magic he was creating through the offering of his own blood.
I glanced around frantically, looking for cover. The door behind me was an inferno of fire now, and there was nowhere else to hide, nothing else to protect me. Then I noticed Jaerom’s body, much larger than mine, lying on the step below me.
I jumped down two stairs and, using all my strength, pushed him up so I could curl into a ball underneath him, using him as a shield.
“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed as I pressed into the body of my former friend, and squeezed my eyes shut. I was lying in a pool of his blood, the dead weight of his corpse nearly crushing me.
And then Iker threw the dark mass. I couldn’t see it anymore, but I felt it — heard it. It exploded all around me, like the fury of a hundred claps of thunder crashing together all at once. The air crackled with electricity, and I clenched my muscles, preparing to die. A horrible, acrid smell filled my nose.
Then it was gone, and I heard Iker give a cry of triumph from above.
Did he think he’d destroyed me? Jaerom’s body, lying on top of me, wasn’t nearly as heavy anymore. In fact, I could barely feel it. What had that black mass done to his corpse? I didn’t dare move, unsure of what had happened, if Iker would be able to see me hiding or not.
Desperation burned through me, hot and horrible. I was trapped and Iker was still free to continue to obliterate the Blevonese army.
And then I heard something that made my blood turn to ice in my veins.
“Iker! Stop this insanity right now! You’re letting your own people die!” Prince Damian’s voice rose above the sounds of battle below me.
No, no, no! What was he doing? It took everything in me to hold still, to keep from jumping up and rushing to his side, revealing myself.
“Do you think to stop me?” Iker began to laugh, a cruel sound that bordered on maniacal. “You — who did nothing but sit and watch while his precious mama was slaughtered?”
“I’m not as helpless as you think.” Damian’s voice sent a chill down my spine. Suddenly, the stones beneath me began to tremble and quake with a horrible, grinding sound. I had to brace myself against the stair above me to keep from being thrown down the rest of the steps.
Finally, it stopped, but I stayed tense, waiting for whatever would come next.
“So, the little prince has been keeping a secret from Iker, has he?” The malicious humor was gone from Iker’s voice. Now he spoke in a cold rage.
And I realized that he hadn’t made the ground move — Damian had.
“I don
’t care what tricks you have up your sleeve — you won’t defeat me!” Iker shouted. “Your little pet guard couldn’t do it, either — she was too weak. Do you want to hear how she begged for her life before I disintegrated her into nothing?”
I couldn’t hear Damian’s response over the pounding of my blood. I gripped my sword more tightly. I couldn’t let Iker kill Damian, too. I had to try — one last time.
I thought of everyone I loved who had suffered because of this man, and the king he served. I thought of Damian, of Rylan. Marcel, Papa, and Mama. Jude and Jaerom.
Holding all their faces in my mind, I took a deep breath, and then sprang out from under the remains of Jaerom’s body. I heard Damian’s cry of fear from below me, but I ignored him. I ran as fast as I could toward Iker, whose eyes widened in shock. With every ounce of fury and hatred in me, I jumped, slashing my sword down through the air from above my head toward him. I felt Iker drawing up his shield as he lifted his sword arm to block me. When I landed right in front of him, rather than continuing to bring my sword down at his head, I spun as fast as I could, twisting my arm down and back. With all the strength and speed I possessed, I screamed and swung my sword around at his left side.
When my blade bit through his flesh and bone, embedding itself into his lungs, I almost couldn’t believe it. He took a staggering step backward, taking my blade with him. He stared at me, then down at the sword impaled in his side. Blood bubbled out of his mouth, and he dropped to his knees in front of the door, which still blazed with fire.
I watched Iker collapse, his eyes open and unseeing. My chest heaved and tears ran down my cheeks. Then my own legs buckled and I fell in front of his motionless body.
ALEXA!” I HEARD Damian’s shout moments before he dropped to the ground in front of me, his beautiful blue eyes bright with unshed tears. He gathered me into his arms, and I could feel his body shaking with sobs. Or maybe it was me who was shaking and he was just trying to hold me together. “You did it,” he whispered over and over again as he rocked my broken body.
“Damian, you need to call a cease-fire.” I heard General Tinso’s voice from below us.
“I’ll take care of her. You take care of your kingdom. I think you still have a king to kill.” Rylan’s familiar voice brought fresh tears to my eyes.
Damian reluctantly pulled back, and I was passed into Rylan’s arms. I stared up at his face, sobs tearing me apart. “I’m so sorry,” I tried to say, my voice cracking, the effort hurting my burned throat.
“I know. Shhh … it’s okay. I know,” he said, staring down at me, his warm brown eyes wet with tears.
Then I heard Damian’s shout, and I turned my head painfully to see him standing on the top of the stairs. It seemed like there was something about him that I was forgetting — something important.
“Halt!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “As the crown prince of Antion, I order you to cease your fighting immediately!”
General Tinso stood next to him and also shouted, “Soldiers of Blevon, stand down!”
I glanced out at the crowd and saw Borracio standing back-to-back with Eljin, holding off a whole horde of Antion soldiers. But when the two leaders shouted their orders, they turned with everyone else to look at the stairs. Some in the crowd turned in relief, and some in confusion.
“My people, we have been misled and mistreated long enough!” Damian cried out over the sudden silence. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, even though my burns were excruciating and my vision kept dimming. I fought against the darkness, fought to hear my prince’s words. A few people cheered, and then a few more. “My father, the king, has used our people, perpetrating atrocities, which shame me and our nation. I will stand for it no longer!” he shouted. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I imagined the blue fire as he looked out upon all the people — his people — staring up at him with cautious hope lighting their faces. “I have negotiated peace with Blevon and will call for an immediate cease-fire and end to this pointless war with a nation that desires only amity with our people!”
No one cheered anymore and I glanced out at the crowds in fear, worried that they weren’t going to follow him. That they didn’t want peace.
But then I realized why they weren’t cheering. One by one, they were pressing their right fists to their left shoulders and dropping to one knee, bowing their heads to their prince, until everyone was on their knees, some with tears running down their cheeks.
Damian pressed his fist to his shoulder, and bowed his own head back to them.
At first, I thought the noise behind me was just the sound of the door burning. But something warned me to turn and look.
“No!” I cried, and tried to jump up in time to stop the king as he burst through the now obliterated doorway with his sword overhead.
Damian heard my cry and spun around in time for the king to swing his sword at him. I watched in horror as the blade rushed toward Damian’s throat. He didn’t have time to lift his own sword to deflect it —
And then the king’s sword stopped, as if he’d hit an invisible wall. Or a shield.
Oh yes, Damian had kept yet another secret from me. He, too, was a sorcerer.
He punched the air in front of him and the king went flying back; Hector hit the wall, then fell to the ground. He moaned and tried to get up, but Damian rushed forward and pressed his sword to his father’s throat.
King Hector looked at Damian with hatred burning in his eyes. “You truly are your mother’s son,” he spat.
Damian stood over him, gripping his sword, his chest heaving. I stared at him and saw the conflict on his beautiful face. I remembered him telling me, “He’s still my father.”
“He can’t do it,” I said under my breath.
But then his gaze hardened. “You will never speak of my mother again,” he said, his voice cold.
For the first time, fear crossed King Hector’s face. “Damian … my son … you don’t want to do this. Have mercy on me — I’m your father!”
Damian stared into his father’s face, but I noticed the king reaching down for his boot.
“Damian, watch out!” I cried out, just as King Hector pulled out a knife and moved to stab his son.
Before he could, Damian drove his sword through his father’s heart. “I will show you the same mercy you showed her,” he snarled, his voice low and hoarse.
King Hector’s grip on the knife loosened, and his hands fell limp at his side. He stared up at his son for a moment longer, and then his head dropped to the ground. Damian closed his eyes briefly. I saw a muscle in his jaw tighten, and then he pulled out the blade, which was coated in his father’s blood. Rylan and I were probably the only ones close enough to see the way his hand shook and the look of grief that crossed his face.
Hector had been a terrible, evil man, but he’d also been his father — Damian’s last surviving parent.
We were both orphans now.
Slowly, Damian made his way back to the front of the step, his shoulders slightly stooped. The crowd was completely silent, having watched the whole thing in horrified shock. Prince Damian looked out over the mass of people for a moment. Then he clenched his jaw and raised his sword.
“My father’s tyranny is at an end!” he yelled.
General Tinso bowed to him, and then shouted, “Hail, Damian, king of Antion! Long live the king!”
The crowd took up the cry, repeating, “Hail, Damian, king of Antion! Long live the king!” over and over, until Damian bowed low at the waist to them.
Then he turned and I could see the tears in his eyes when he looked straight at me and said, “We did it.” His voice broke when he repeated, “Alexa, we did it.”
I tried to smile at him through my tears, but my ruined face hurt too much. I wondered how badly I had been burned.
“She needs Lisbet’s help,” Rylan said.
Damian — King Damian — nodded.
Rylan stood up, with me in his arms, and the pain escalated until I couldn�
�t bear it. But it didn’t matter — I’d done it. I was finally sure that the people I loved were safe at last.
WHEN I WOKE, I was lying in Damian’s bed, and Lisbet hovered over me. At first, I couldn’t remember what had happened or why I was there. But when I moved, I felt the pull of my injured skin, and everything came rushing back, making it hard to breathe.
“Shhhh …” Lisbet whispered. “It’s okay, Alexa. It’s all okay now — thanks to you.”
I shook my head, struggling for air against the panic that held my lungs in an iron-tight grasp.
“Alexa, look at me,” Lisbet commanded, and I stared up into her dark eyes helplessly. “Breathe, Alexa. Nice and slow. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
I tried to do as she asked, and slowly, slowly, the panic receded, until I could breathe normally, even though my heart still raced.
“There you go. That’s better. Just breathe, sweet girl.”
Sweet girl? Lisbet was calling me sweet girl?
She must have seen the confusion on my face, because she laughed softly, a sad, wistful sound. “Don’t look so surprised,” she said as she wiped a cool cloth over my brow. Her hand grew still and her expression somber as she stared down into my eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for what you did. For saving all of us.”
“But at what cost?” I finally managed to whisper. It hurt to talk; the skin on the left side of my face and neck pulled funny when I did. I reached up to touch my face. Where once there was smooth skin, it was now bumpy. I pulled my hand away in horror.
“I did the best I could,” Lisbet said sadly. “It wasn’t normal fire that burned you. I couldn’t heal all of the scars it left, though I was able to heal some.”
I shook my head. “I don’t mean my face. I mean all the people who died in the battle. Jaerom. And Jude.” Tears ran down my ruined cheek.
Lisbet wiped them away with her cloth. “It was a terrible cost. But they gave their lives in hopes that it would ensure freedom from the king’s atrocities for those they loved. Don’t belittle their gift by living your life dragged down by regret and guilt.”
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