Two Worlds of Dominion

by Angelina J. Steffort

  While the sight of a standing, fighting Jemin inspired relief in Maray’s heart, Gan Krai’s instincts to not stay down were more than terrifying. Jemin kept battering on him, sword blows raining down on the warlock, who seemed to be weakened well enough by Maray’s dagger but by no means dead.

  “But… I killed him.” She stared incredulously as the pair of them kept launching at each other, neither of their attacks seeming strong enough to do the other enough harm to finish them off.

  Corey placed a hand on Maray’s arm. “You wounded him,” she said calmly, on the surface. Behind those ebony eyes, fury burned like a bonfire. “And we…” She paused, mouthed twitching. “Pen just brought you back from the dead—who says no one did the same for Gan Krai?”

  Pen… Maray’s stunned gaze met Corey’s eyes before turning to find Oliver’s.

  “He was badly wounded,” Oliver inserted, his eyes on the devil-children, measuring their stance and angle on the battlefield. “He would have died anyway.” His words weren’t cold, just explanatory.

  Maray’s heart throbbed for Pen, who had given his last to save her, but her gaze returned the battle between her mate and her enemy. With every striking blow either of them delivered, it was more likely that Gan Krai would fall… but then, the same seemed true for Jemin, too.

  She wouldn’t allow Pen’s life to have been forfeit for no reason. She had to end this while she still could… end Gan Krai. Gut him all over again, or…

  She started back toward the field where the battle kept going on, soldiers picking themselves up from after that blow of magic which had unmistakably come from Gan Krai himself, but Oliver’s hand grabbed her by the shoulder.

  “Don’t go in there,” he warned. “We just saved our asses from him.” He slid his grasp down to her wrist and held out her own hand for her. “Have you seen what he did to you?”

  Maray noted the burn marks covering her fingers and palms where the iron had melted into her skin—where Pen had melted it off.

  But Maray shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, Oliver.” Then, giving him a long gaze, she seemed to get through to him, watching him nod in understanding. It didn’t matter if her ass was saved from anyone as long as Gan Krai went down and stayed down for good.

  “Then let’s do it together…” Corey was the one to say it. “All of us.”

  Maray lingered, her heart galloping over the field to aid Jemin if her body couldn’t.

  “We strike.” She looked down the line of devil-children. “All of us.”

  Oliver measured Corey’s face then Maray’s, who gave him a brief nod.

  “Gan Krai is stronger than we could ever imagine. He found a way to defy death, aging, and the laws of physics,” he said, lifting his arms before him.

  As did Corey. “Let’s finish him for good.”

  Maray let her gaze fall over the field. She thought of her mother, who she might be joining soon, and her father, who was somewhere on that field, maybe already having joined her, and her friends and her people… and Jemin. “For all the people we loved, love, and would have loved had we survived this.” She gave them a nod of determination, and at Oliver’s signal, she summoned her magic, all of it. The heat, the fire, readying it beneath her skin, and so did the others, all of them, including the devil-children.

  Gan Krai halted across the battlefield as did Jemin with the rest of those who remained standing.

  With an unearthly scream, Gan Krai realized what they were doing, that Maray had hijacked his secret weapon and that they were preparing for his downfall. He threw his arms out to each side as if summoning a storm, drawing upon whatever strength he had left to shield, to attack… Maray couldn’t tell… didn’t care.

  And they released their magic.

  Time seemed to stop as Gan Krai channeled his own magic. Maray’s magic, alongside the devil-children’s, sent heatwaves over the ground. Her fire blew through the air in angry fingers, groping for everything that wasn’t human, slitting throats with blades of flame, searing the evil, scattering the smoke… Until they hit the storm Gan Krai had unleashed on them. For a moment, two fronts—one white-hot fire, the other the icy air of winter—stood like two walls unable to pass each other. Then, just as Maray’s resources were fading, the storm walls crumbled, and the angry flames pushed forward and forward until they reached the other end of the battlefield.

  An eruption of power shook the earth beneath Maray’s feet, making her tremble from her feet to the roots of her hair, as Gan Krai was consumed by branding waves of magic, erupting in flames, a living, now-again mortal torch on his way to hell. He screamed as the flames consumed his robes and bit through his skin, tearing the air apart with whatever was left of his powers. He burned and burned and burned… and Maray stalked forward across the field, drawn by the image. She watched him as he slowly turned black, and the stench of seared flesh filled her nose, a scent she would never, ever forget.

  With every step she took forward, more detail came into view, his eyes, which were blinded by the heat as he swam through the smoke trying to grab for anything that may save him. But there was nothing there… None of the soldiers, friend or foe, lifted a finger to help him. They just stared the same way Maray did… with morbid fascination as he burned to bones, to the ground, until whatever was left of him died in embers. In the end, even those were suffocated by the mud, as if the soil itself was determined to swallow him so he may never rise again.

  Finally, when not even smoke filled the air any longer, Maray still stared, unblinking, until she was convinced Gan Krai was destroyed.

  “Maray.” Jemin’s hoarse voice shook her from her trance and she noticed that her eyes were stinging, her cheeks dripping with tears she hadn’t even noted were running down her face. Her chest lightened as Jemin draped his arm around her shoulders, not waiting for her to tear her gaze off the spot where Gan Krai had just burned to death, and pulled her against his chest. And she let him, inhaling the scent of sweat and blood and mud on him… But he was here, alive, breathing, standing. He kissed the top of her head, his arms locking more tightly around her and warming her as she started to shiver uncontrollably.

  “It’s over,” he breathed into her hair. “It’s over.”

  Maray nodded, teeth chattering, her strength leaving her. She staggered against him, unable to keep herself upright even with his support.

  Jemin caught her and rested her in his arms while around them, more and more voices awoke. A cacophony of the wounded and the disoriented.

  “What is this?” Maray whispered, and Jemin leaned his head down to hear her speak.

  “It seems that all the poor bastards Gan Krai recruited just woke up from his mind control.

  Maray turned her head, her temple resting on Jemin’s neck, and found people rising from the mud. Maray listened to her supporters cheering for their victory while the ones who had broken free from Gan Krai’s spell wandered, disoriented, stumbling across the field, asking around for her, for information, for anything that explained why they were stuck in blood and mud.

  But there were hundreds of them... Hundreds had survived. Maray’s heart swelled with gratitude.

  “Long live the Queen.” Jemin bent down and kissed her forehead, drawing a smile from Maray as the shivering slowly subsided… It was really over.

  When she re-opened her eyes, the stinging-bright sunlight hit them. Her head pounded with every beat of her heart, and her body was aching all over. Beside her, a familiar shape stirred at her groan.

  “Welcome back.” Gerwin leaned forward, blocking out the aggressive rays piercing mercilessly through the lace curtain.

  Maray couldn’t find her voice, but her hand twitched open, making room for her father’s. He squeezed it, and a smile chased away the worry on his features while Maray’s own worries crept back into her mind as she became more aware.

  “What happened?” she finally croaked.

  The last thing she could remember was the wrecking force of combined magic that h
ad been released throughout the battle, the singeing heat, the cries of injured soldiers, Gan Krai burning into ashes, and then closing her eyes in Jemin’s arms, giving in to the dark canyon which had opened up inside her mind as the exhaustion of battle set in, then falling into blackness.

  “We defeated him,” Gerwin said, and images of fire and storm, of two fronts of magic battling each other to the death, filled Maray’s head. She flinched at the thought.

  “Corey said that after you wounded Gan Krai with your dagger, you laid the foundation for his end. Better yet, Jemin took a good go at him, too.” Gerwin paused, and Maray remembered how she had watched with terror while Jemin had fought Gan Krai in the distance, the devastation that had filled her… “But it was the combined magic that eventually consumed him.”

  Corey, Oliver, and the other devil-children had aided her in that final strike. She could never have done it without them. But they had… done it. He was dead.

  As it sank in, a spark of joy bubbled in Maray’s chest, only to be suffocated by the consequences of their victory. “The others?” She managed his name, and not the question she wanted to ask. How many lives had been lost? Who of her friends were still around to see the new, free Allinan? And who of them was one of those Gerwin had referred to as lost?

  “Jemin is recovering in the servant quarters.” Gerwin smiled, and the spark in Maray’s chest flickered for a moment. She propped herself up on the pillows and gazed out the window, across the courtyard, at the pale-yellow building where, on the first floor, behind an emerald door, Jemin was recovering. The sun was suddenly not as offensive to her vision anymore now that her eyes had a target.

  “But not all of them were so lucky,” Gerwin continued wearily.

  Maray gave him a measuring look, inquiring with her eyes rather than words, and Gerwin started naming.

  “Heck is all right, and so are Neelis and most of the pack…” A shadow crossed his face, but Maray didn’t ask. “Scott is recovering from some broken bones…”

  “Maray!” The door burst open, and a bouncing figure with a red shock of hair atop her head stormed toward her and threw her arms around her. “You’re awake.”

  Maray cringed under Pia’s hug as her weight brought the soreness of her limbs back to the forefront of her focus. Though, Maray was unspeakably happy the girl wasn’t on the casualty list.

  “Sorry.” Pia pulled back and gently took Maray’s free hand instead. “Did Gerwin tell you we won? He did, didn’t he?” she blubbered. “We need to tell Wil and Corey you’re awake. They will be so excited. And Jem and Heck and…” She stopped short.

  “Seri…” Maray finished the name Pia had left out.

  Gerwin shook his head, face serious, and grief overcame Maray.

  “She’s not dead but… Seri disappeared after…” Gerwin stopped and shook his head again. “Long story.”

  He gave Pia a look and added, “Let the Queen rest, will you? She’ll need all her strength when the council hears she’s back to consciousness.”

  “Do they need to know already?” Maray asked, hoping that all she would need to do for now was lay around and recover, and maybe visit Jemin in a little while. Maybe even think about a get-away to the other world for a couple of days… far away from the prying eyes of the palace.

  But she knew the answer. They would absolutely need to know. There was work to be done, families to be consoled, soldiers to be thanked… And for the many sacrifices for a free Allinan, she would perform a ceremony. For the heroes of Allinan. Her chest ached once more at the thought of Pen, who had sacrificed himself, dying or not, to save her life. Every time she looked at her hands, she would remember him.

  Pia trudged out of the room with a small wave and let them alone for whatever else it was her father had to share. She studied him while his features twisted and turned as if he was trying to figure out how to best word something.

  “Something else is going on, isn’t it?” She knew the look her father had on his face.

  Gerwin hesitated. “Maybe when you’re fully recovered. You need your strength right now…” he tried, but Maray cut him off.

  She looked down her arms and hands and noticed that the burn marks were still there, not as angry red as on the battlefield, but not quite healed either.

  “If my magic isn’t strong enough to heal me, get Corey.” She looked around, half-expecting Corey to walk in the door, and noticed that there were candelabras on every surface in the room. “What are those?”

  Gerwin followed her gaze and sighed. “Corey’s healing power won’t do you any good, Maray,” he said heavily. “Neither will the basins in the bathroom or the lightbulbs on the ceiling…”

  Maray didn’t understand. She glanced back to the window, where everything looked the same as it always had, and yet, something was different.

  “When the combined magic of Gan Krai collided with yours and that of the devil-children, something happened…” He searched for words, eyes on the countless candles. “Even Feris can’t explain it… The magic… somehow, it disintegrated.”

  Maray sucked in a breath. “My magic is gone?”

  Gerwin waited for her to figure it out.

  “Not just mine.”

  He gave her a nod, apparently finding it the easier option.

  “All of it?”

  He nodded again.

  “Forever?”

  At that, Gerwin lifted his brows as if he was asking the same question. “I don’t know, Maray,” he said truthfully. “No one can tell. This has never happened before in Allinan history. All we know is that none of the warlocks have been able to do the slightest bit of magic, that no bracelet, no basin, no vehicle works any longer. Everything Allinan used to do with magic, we have to do by hand again.”

  Maray’s eyes widened in disbelief, and Gerwin shook his head as if he himself still couldn’t believe it. “We’re back in the Middle Ages?” She stared at the candles, seeing them for what they really were—a crutch they would be needing until they figured out a solution.

  Her father lifted a hand as if he was going to say something smart, but he let it drop to the bed beside her leg and sighed. “Not quite the Middle Ages,” he corrected, “But it hasn’t been easy.” He looked around the room, pointing at various items. “None of these work without magic. And electricity isn’t a concept that has been introduced in this world.”

  “Then let’s go to the other world,” Maray suggested, ready to jump out of bed despite the aches that weighed down her body. “Get doctors, engineers, scientists…”

  Her voice trailed away as Gerwin’s face darkened.

  “It’s not as if we haven’t thought of that,” he said with a frown.

  “Then why haven’t you?”

  From the look in his eyes, she didn’t know if she wanted to hear the answer.

  He responded anyway. “No magic, no portaling.”

  Maray swallowed. “There are people recovering from battle without magic. And without medical aid…” She didn’t want to think about what might have happened to her father when he’d been poisoned if Corey hadn’t used her magic on him. Or Jemin when Langley had attacked him. Even Maray herself—without Pen’s magic, she wouldn’t have been there to even consider what a future Allinan would look like.

  “Every warlock who has a basic education in healing is there to help with herbs and teas. They clean wounds, they patch up people as best as they can… It’s just been taking longer than it would with magic. Days rather than hours—”

  “Days?” Maray interrupted. “I’ve been out for days?”

  He nodded. “Don’t forget you were brought back from the dead,” he reminded her with a wistful gaze. It lasted for a moment before he smoothed his expression, looking into the future instead of the horrors of the recent past.

  “Once they are done with all the healing, we’ll need new jobs for our former warlocks. And we have put every single man and woman who were brought to Allinan by Gan Krai for his army to good use. They
have been adjusting well—after the initial shock. Some of them even have skills that are actually helping us adjust the plumbing in the palace… since the basins don’t work the same way as before, we needed an alternative.”

  “They are willing to help? After everything…” She thought of the slaughter on the battlefield, and her stomach turned squeamish.

  Gerwin nodded. “They are grateful to be released from his spell. Some of them talked more openly about their time in his troops and what they say is that they saw and felt everything without having any influence over what they were doing…” His voice trailed away as he noted Maray’s look of horror. “But they are doing all right. Oliver and Wil have taken on the task of helping them transition into our new Allinan reality.”

  They shared a look, both of them helpless against the challenge that lay ahead.

  One thing Maray was certain of, though—future Allinan wouldn’t have nights with brightly illuminated windows or streets full of fancy, autonomous carriages. It would depend on its people, their wit, skills, and ability to adapt and learn.

  “Where do we stand… in development, technology…?”

  Gerwin shrugged for lack of an exact decade. “Industrial revolution, perhaps.”

  Maray swallowed again and let herself sink back into the pillows.

  What was she going to tell her council? Her people? How would she console the ones who looked to her as Queen in times of need? What would she say to her friends, who had taken enough from them…

  “What happened to Seri, Dad?” Maray gave him a look that made clear she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Seri had fought for her alongside her other friends, and being the one Heck’s heart belonged to, she needed to know, or she wouldn’t be able to face Heck, console him…

  “Most of Neelis’ pack was in their human form when it happened… When magic evaporated from Allinan,” he clarified, and Maray felt her features fill with horror. “But not all…”

  “No magic, no shifting…” Maray whispered, grasping the full impact of the absence of magic. “Seri was in her Yutu form…”