by T. J. Klune
Gary’s eyes narrowed as he cocked his head. “Excuse me?”
Tiggy took a step forward, growling low in his throat.
Wan’s smile widened. “I heard about how it happened, you know. When they took it from you. Your horn. The way you screamed. It was like cutting through bone, wasn’t it? To feel a part of you taken away in such a violent manner. Well. No one can blame you for screaming, could they?”
Gary took a step back, rear bumping into Tiggy, who put a hand on his flank.
“Of course not,” Wan said. He rocked his neck side to side, like he was stretching out the kinks. “To have such a precious thing torn from you the way that it was. You screamed. For days, didn’t you? And when you stopped screaming, when it was over, you felt severed from everything else. Because unicorns are pure magic. Their whole beings are light. But if you snuff out that light, if you take away the concentration of their magic, what’s left besides a common horse?” He smiled widely before turning to look directly at me, even though he shouldn’t have been able to see through the enchantment. His gaze flickered over to Ryan before it settled on me again. “Isn’t that right, Sam? Take away the concentration of their magic, and what is left?”
“That’s not Wan,” I breathed.
“What?” Ryan said. “What do you mean that’s not Wan? He can’t see us. He can’t do anything. The room is warded against Dark magic—”
Morgan was already moving toward the door when Wan raised his hand toward it, chains rattling around his wrist. There was a bright flash in the room, and I felt it, the hook in the center of my chest, tugging. It was sickly and weak and wrong, but it was there. And for a moment, I almost took a step forward, wanting to follow it, wanting to feel that badwrong bittersweet pain, like pressing my tongue against a loose tooth.
Even as the light began to fade, the imprints still dancing along my vision, I felt the wards shatter as if they were paper-thin and had been created by an amateur. One moment they were healthy and strong, and the next, they were in pieces that stabbed along the green and gold, made up of a sickly yellow that felt like infection. I grunted at the force of it, more shock than pain. Ryan’s hand was on my shoulder, and he was saying my name in my ear.
Randall was next to me, standing tall, and I felt his magic curling around me and mine. It was different than I’d ever felt from him before. Normally Randall’s magic was used on me to prove a point, to teach me a lesson of some sort. The last time I’d felt it had been in the training fields when we’d come back to the castle after rescuing Justin. Then he’d been testing a theory on cornerstones without my knowledge, shocking me full of lightning he brought down from the sky. It was of the offense variety, an attack on me.
This was different. This was warm, and it meshed with my magic more than I thought we ever could. Mine felt young and vibrant, a little out of control. His was strong and ancient, moving with a measured grace. I was a cacophony. He was a symphony, and he pushed his magic over mine, wrapping it wholly, muting it so it felt like it barely thrummed under my skin.
“Gary,” I managed to say as soon as I’d caught my breath. “Tiggy.”
“He’s blocked us from getting into the room,” Morgan said from the door. “I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s more than it should be.”
“I can’t get in,” Randall said, brow furrowed. “It’s not—”
“Of course you can’t,” Wan said, and I pulled myself upright at the sound of his voice. Because I knew it now, skirting along the edges of hazy memory.
“It’s him,” I said. “It’s him.”
Ryan drew his sword, little though it would do. “Wan’s the dark man in shadows?”
“No,” I said, taking a step toward the glass. “He’s a vessel. He’s been taken over.”
Tiggy was backed into the corner of the room, as far away from Wan as he could get. Gary was shoved behind him. Gary wasn’t playing the damsel in distress, however, and it was taking Tiggy all he could to keep Gary from launching himself at Wan, his glitter rage pouring out around him, eyes blazing.
Wan paid them no mind. He looked down at his wrists, frowning at the manacles. He jiggled his legs, hearing the chains rattle against the floor. “Interesting,” he said with a sigh. “I’d heard much about the Dark Hunter. It seems that my expectations were set far too high. That’s… disappointing.”
In one fluid movement, he jerked the chains up, and I felt them snap, not by force of strength, but by that sweet badwrong pull of his magic that was kept in shades of black and gray and magenta. There was the whisper-roar of his magic, but his mouth stayed shut, not a single word falling from his lips, either in Veranian or the ancient tongue. Morgan could do that. Randall could do that. No one else should have been able to do that, as there were no wizards as old as they.
But for some reason, I could too, though it came in fits and starts.
And now him. This man.
Which meant his power was not a lie.
He stood. The chair scraped loudly along the stone floor.
“Let me at him!” Gary yelled. “I’ll rip his dick off and shove it down his throat so he can tell everyone he fucked his own mouth!”
Tiggy, of course, didn’t let Gary go, but kept a level, cool gaze on Wan.
Wan didn’t pay them any mind.
He turned toward the enchanted glass, that unnerving gaze on me again. I thought about taking a step toward him, but Ryan’s grip on my shoulder tightened, and Randall hadn’t moved from my side. Morgan stood near the door, but he was no longer trying to get inside. And though I only glanced at him for a second, what I saw on his face was something I’d never seen on Morgan of Shadows.
Fear.
Morgan was afraid.
“I can feel you,” Wan said. “Your strength. The power that rolls through you. Tell me, Sam of Wilds, have they made you promises? Has Randall whispered in your ear little secrets about how you’ll be a great wizard one day? Has Morgan put his arm around your shoulders and held you close, telling you that you don’t have to be afraid? Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam.” So quick that I could barely see it happening, he raised his hand and slammed his palm into the glass. It vibrated but did not break. “They’re lying.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
Wan smiled at me, wide and toothy. “I’m the inevitable. The gods don’t deal in partiality, Sam. Did you know that? For every force that fights for good, there is an opposite that pushes against it. And Sam, I am going to push.”
The glass began to crack.
The first was small, minute, the break following along Wan’s middle finger. Then came a second and a third, and then I could hear the glass beginning to break apart.
And before I could think, before I could even come to the decision, I’d already moved forward, standing directly in front of him, the enchanted glass the only thing separating us. Morgan said, “Sam, don’t!” but I couldn’t listen to him. I couldn’t take the chance. I slapped my hand up to the glass, lining it up perfectly with his. There was no other thought in my head but keeping his attention on me and not on my family in the corner behind him, my family shouting out behind me.
Up close now, I could see the differences. I didn’t know if Wan was gone completely or if he was trapped in his own body, screaming to be freed. The skin on his face bulged as if it were trying to make a new shape, shifting and collapsing. His eyes were bright, brighter than Wan’s had ever been. Wan had been a villain, but in the end, he’d been harmless.
This was not a harmless man.
I felt the cracks spreading under my fingertips, and there was green and gold and blue and it was bursting within me, more than I’d ever felt it before. He was pushing, so I did the only thing I could.
I pushed back.
His eyes widened briefly. The smile on his face fell. “I see,” he said. “It’s strong. More than I expected. You are more than I expected. Oh, this is going to be fun.”
“You won’t touch them,” I said through gri
tted teeth. “I won’t let you.”
“Ah, sentimentality,” he said, and the smile came back in full force. It was disconcerting, being this close to it. “I was like that. Until it was taken from me. And once divested from the chains that bound me, I was freer than I’d ever been before. Sam, I am the contradiction. The gods cannot play favorites. I have seen the star dragon. He has shown me the way to bring Verania to its knees. You have a destiny of dragons, but my destiny is you. For I am your contrary, Sam of Wilds. You will stand against me as all tragic heroes do, with your people at your back and mine tilting their faces toward me in benediction. And I will use that to take everything from you. I can promise you that. Then and only then—after everyone you have loved is lost—will I end you. Your cornerstone will be the first. And you will be the last.”
“Monologuing,” I growled. “You’re fucking monologuing. Just like the rest of them. You’re no different than anyone else that’s come before you. You think you’re the first person to threaten me? To threaten my family? You’re not. And I’ve beaten them. Every single one of them. And I will beat you.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, leaning forward until his forehead pressed against the glass. “Because there has never been anything like me before. Isn’t that right, little brother?”
I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand because I wasn’t his brother. I never had a brother. It would have—
“There has never been anyone like you before,” a voice said behind me, despondent and weary. “That much is true. It was the very reason we had to do what we did to stop you to begin with.”
My control slipped, just the barest amounts.
Because what.
It couldn’t be—
“Morgan?” I whispered.
Wan—or the thing in Wan—chuckled, looking rather gleeful. “Surprised, aren’t you? Of course you are. Because he wouldn’t have told you a single thing about me. His dark secret. His greatest pain after the death of his beloved Anya. Would you like to hear another?”
“Don’t do this,” Randall said. His voice was rough and pained, something I’d never heard from him before. “If there was ever anything good inside of you, please don’t do this.”
But the man on the other side of the glass ignored him. “They have kept much from you, Sam of Wilds. All in the name of the guilt that wracks through them. Do you think they dream of me at night when they close their eyes? Do they see my face, twisted in betrayal, when they look upon you? You see, I loved them. The both of them. My brother, Morgan. My heart, Randall. But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. Even if I was the only family Morgan had left. Even if I was Randall’s cornerstone. I still wasn’t enough.”
I felt like I could barely breathe.
He smiled terribly at me. “You know who I am, Sam.”
And there, in the deepest parts of my memories, a name rose through the storm in my head. A name that had always been hidden in shadows the rare times it had ever been mentioned. “No.” I shook my head, feeling the glass bending under my hand. “It’s not possible.”
“Say it,” he said, teeth bared. “Say my name.”
And gods help me, I did.
“Myrin,” I whispered.
His face softened, just a little. “Good. That’s real good, Sam. You’re more than I had hoped you would be. I believe this will be an honorable death for you in the end. But it needn’t come to that. I will give you this one chance, Sam. Now, here. Surrender yourself to me. Stand by my side. Forsake all others. I will never lie to you like they have. I will teach you the secrets of magic that they wouldn’t dare touch. Learn the truth of the magic that flows within your blood. Why a cornerstone will never be anything more than a hindrance. Together we can bend the world to its breaking point. Stand with me, Sam, or prepare to lose everything you hold dear.”
I didn’t know what to think. Everything was swirling in my head. The anger. The fear. The truth of the man standing in front of me. For it was the truth. Randall and Morgan hadn’t denied a single word of it. And that’s what stuck with me the most. That the man in front of me, this man who, before today, was nothing but myth and legend, had laid more truth at my feet than Morgan and Randall ever had.
Gods, how I was angry. I was so angry. I couldn’t even breathe—
“Sam,” another voice said. An arm wrapped around my waist. A broad chest pressed against my back. His cheek scraped against mine as he hooked his chin over my shoulder. There was green and gold everywhere. And it was for him. It was because of him. “Sam,” Ryan Foxheart said again. “I know you’re scared. I am too. There’s nothing we can do about that now. But I’m with you. Right here. Right now. And I will never leave your side. Do you hear me? I will never leave your side.”
There was my truth. That was what I could believe in. And in Tiggy protecting Gary at all costs. And Gary still struggling to get to me, eyes wide, begging Tiggy to let him go so he could cut a godsdamned motherfucker.
Everything I did was for them.
I screamed as I shoved everything I could against the glass. It rippled around my fingers as if it were liquid, the gold and green sparking off around my hands. There was a resistance, and it was heavy when it tried to push back, but it was nothing. He was nothing, and in the split second before the glass shattered, I saw the look of surprise cross Myrin’s face. Then it was gone when the enchanted glass exploded around us, large chunks trapped up in the roiling magic, swirling around us. For the briefest of moments, my hand touched his, and there was the badwrong pull between us when our magic mingled, intensified beyond anything it’d been before. I could feel it in him, the blood in his veins, how similar it was to Morgan. It was familiar, but off in a way that sent a spike of pain through my head. Morgan’s magic had always felt like home. Myrin’s felt like a fire coming to burn that home to the ground.
And then the glass stopped around us, suspended in air, spinning slowly, glittering in the light from the torches on the walls. Ryan was a long line of heat pressed up against me, his fingers digging into my side where his arm was still wrapped around me. Tiggy had turned to face Gary, shielding him from the glass and magic. I saw reflections of Randall and Morgan in the spinning glass, their images fractured and distorted. Both were pale and shocked, looking older than I’d ever seen them before.
But I didn’t have time for them. Not now.
“This,” Myrin breathed, “will be a good fight.”
He chuckled.
And then took a step back. Another. And then another, hand still raised, his magic still a wall against mine, poking and digging, looking for weakness.
A bead of sweat dripped down my forehead, stinging my eye.
My arm trembled.
Ryan’s breath was hot on my neck.
I knew it was going to happen the moment before it did. Myrin winked at me, an obscene and twisted flirtatious gesture, before he found the weakness he was looking for. The glass floating around us snapped into place as he closed his raised hand into a fist, the wicked sharp edges pointed directly at us. The only thing I thought of was Ryan, and as Myrin’s magic began to vibrate around us, calling upon the glass to skewer us into the wall, I dropped to my knees, pulling Ryan down with me, slamming my hand against the stone floor. The air sizzled around us as lightning began to arc from my fingertips, rolling up my arm to my shoulder and into my chest. It wrapped itself around my heart, and I pushed. Electricity flew up all around us, snapping bright white and blue as it vaporized the glass and cracked the floor underneath my hand. Randall and Morgan were knocked off their feet by the shock wave. Tiggy staggered forward with a grunt, head hitting the wall as he hunched farther over Gary.
Myrin was knocked back against the far wall of the interrogation room, grunting as his head rapped against stone.
Ryan held on, even as he shook against the electricity coursing through the both of us.
I tried to call it back, I tried to pull it back in, but it was so much, it was too mu
ch—
“Sam,” Ryan whispered harshly in my ear. “Sam. It’s done.”
I gasped and closed my hand into a fist on the floor, the cracked stone scraping against my knuckles.
I felt the lightning leave my heart as quickly as it’d come, blood rushing in my ears, vision swimming.
It was quiet in the aftermath.
I raised my head slowly.
Myrin, in his Wan suit, smiled at me.
“Soon,” he said. “I’ll see you real soon.”
And then he snapped his head viciously to the right. There was the wet crack of bone.
Wan the Dark Hunter slumped against the wall, legs skittering on the floor.
It only lasted a few seconds. It felt like hours.
And then it stopped.
Wan’s eyes were open and glassy.
His chest did not rise.
“Motherfucker,” Gary yelled. “That godsdamned dirty fighting ass bitch. He called me a horse! He’s dead! He’s so fucking dead, he don’t even know how dead he is!”
“So dead,” Tiggy agreed. “Punch him in his brain.”
Randall groaned as he pulled himself up off the floor.
Morgan sat on his knees looking down at his hands.
I stood, regretting when Ryan’s arm fell away from me.
“You okay?” I asked as I turned toward him. He didn’t seem any worse for wear, no visible signs of injury, though he groaned when he reached down to pick his sword up from the floor.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Though I could have done without the whole up-close-and-personal-with-the-lightning thing.”
“Would you say it was… shockingly close?”
“Oh my gods. Did you just—”
“We don’t have time for your jokes,” I said dismissively. “We have plans to make. Gary! Tiggy! Stop lazing about. Get up and get moving!”