“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, looking at the others in embarrassment.
“I’m going to be okay,” he said assuredly. “But it’s time.”
Victoria’s face went immediately from embarrassment to worry. “I’m going to lose you,” she whispered, reaching out to hold Angst’s hand.
He shivered in anticipation, his heart skipping a beat as though he was asking a girl to dance for the very first time. Goosebumps covered his arms. A foci, Dulgirgraut, was everything he wanted, and everything he wanted to avoid. It held the power he needed to live, to save those he loved, but also carried with it a great curse of responsibility. Angst had never expected that with Chryslaenor, but hoped he was ready for it this time.
“I don’t think I can see you anymore when you’re bonded to a sword.” Victoria said. “Do you have to bond? Are you sure it’s what you want?”
For a moment, this too-brief moment, she was his again. They had grown so close this adventure, and then things had fallen apart, further than he would ever have feared. The tension between them represented a loss that hurt like an open wound. Feeling this connection one last time was almost enough to convince him to try carrying Dulgirgraut without bonding, but this adventure had proved to him their closeness was fleeting. Bonding with the sword would be, should be, forever.
Her lip quivered at his revelation, and Angst gripped her hand, grateful that she was with him.
“I want this more than anything,” he said, looking into Victoria’s eyes.
Victoria nodded in resignation, saddened by his response, then stared at the dusty floor.
“Well, almost anything,” Angst said with a wink.
“What?” She lifted her head, surprise in her eyes.
Angst smiled at Tori as he pulled his hand away. He gripped the small thin handle of the enormous blade. The chamber dimmed as though Dulgirgraut was soaking up every particle of light. From nowhere, a cool breeze gently tickled the torches around the cell, making them pop and crackle loudly. Angst lifted the sword from the ground, waking the great blade from its slumber.
Dulgirgraut glowed with a soft green light, so refreshing it was like an invitation to take a dip in a cool pond on a hot summer day. Angst let the light flow from the sword and encompass his body. He rested the tip of Dulgirgraut on the ground but held the hilt high overhead until the sword was perfectly vertical.
Angst had waited too long before bonding with Chryslaenor. There would be no waiting with Dulgirgraut, no hesitation. He sought his friends about the room, making brief eye contact with each of them. Tarness nodded at him with a broad tearful smile. Hector’s head bobbed up and down slowly, while Dallow smiled toward him blankly. Finally, Angst looked at Victoria, who was worried to the point of tears. Angst gave her a forlorn smile, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.
“Yes,” he said in a voice not completely his own.
He relaxed, forcing his muscles to unclench as much as he could, and let it happen. All his concerns about whether the bonding could take place were immediately gone. Dulgirgraut searched his mind for that place Chryslaenor had originally bonded and found it. Within moments, Dulgirgraut was attempting to fill in the space, but the foci wanted a trade. It wanted a piece of Angst before completing the connection, but there was nothing left to give; the trade was uneven.
“No!” Angst cried out in surprise.
The bonding felt like hot sharp spikes slowly pressing into every pore of his skin. He started to shake., but what felt like mere shaking to Angst appeared as madness to his friends.
Victoria watched in horror as Angst contorted and blurred. His face would pause for moments, showing pain, and then pleasure, and then agony as the foci attempted to take a part of Angst that was no longer there.
“This isn’t right,” Victoria yelled. “I can feel it! Hector, this isn’t right. Make it stop!”
Without question, Hector leaped to tackle Angst and was immobilized in mid-air. As if his attack was a trigger, a translucent green circle expanded from the sword—like an air shield everyone could see. The shield reached Hector first, throwing him against the wall, then slowly pressed the others away from Angst and Dulgirgraut. Tarness fought against the invisible barrier, his anger growing as he struggled. Sweat from his forehead trickled back as though he stood in a great wind. He fought harder and roared loudly until green light flashed from the blade and tossed him back. The barrier continued to grow, even after they were against the cell walls, the green power crushing the life from them.
“Please, Angst,” Tori whimpered. “It hurts.”
This wasn’t working. Bonding hadn’t hurt last time. His friends were in danger, in pain, but there was nothing he could do. His brain was on fire, burning through his eyes like a madness that couldn’t be controlled.
“That’s enough!” Angst yelled.
He pushed against the energy, drawing it into himself. Dulgirgraut fought for more of him, while Angst struggled internally to fight the foci. The green hue slowly became darker. His friends screamed in pain as they were forcefully crushed against the walls.
“There isn’t anything left,” Angst pleaded. “It’s all I have to give!”
Cracks appeared in the stone around the room, and chunks of doorframe flew out into the hallway. Everyone’s heads turned, they were no longer able to face forward as their cheeks pressed into the wall.
In his brief time with Chryslaenor, Angst had found an understanding with the great blade. In an odd way, they had become companions, as though the sword was a living entity. The foci seemed to have goals, and needs, and a will of its own. This realization clicked in Angst’s mind, and he met Dulgirgraut’s will with his own. The glowing hue about them fluctuated from green to brown. Still, his friends writhed in pain. This had to end. With all his strength, he willed the sword to be his own.
“That’s enough! We have work to do!” Angst yelled at the sword. “Now!”
The foci succumbed to Angst’s will, and the brown hue surrounding Dulgirgraut became a dark red.
Angst’s friends dropped to the floor. They looked up to see Angst still, no longer a vibrating figure of blurred images. With one hand on the blade and his head lowered, he took a deep breath. He smiled when he opened his eyes. Victoria gasped at what she saw.
“That was exactly what I needed,” he said with a grin.
A hush covered the room in a blanket of anticipation as Queen Isabelle placed a gem-encrusted silver tiara on Alloria’s head. The newly adorned princess was radiant, her honey-brown hair rested in curls on her shoulders. Her full lips were painted bright red. Long thin diamond earrings trickled from her delicate ears. Alloria’s white gown fit form and shape as though painted onto her slender body.
Alloria nodded at Tyrell politely before turning to face the queen, dropping low into a curtsy. She looked up at Isabelle, who beckoned the young princess to rise. Alloria turned on her heel to face a hall crowded with nobles and regals.
“Her Majesty, the Princess Alloria,” Isabelle squawked, introducing Alloria as though she had become a different person.
The applause was polite, almost enthusiastic but not quite ingratiating. Alloria swallowed hard and burdened her full lips with a newfound princess smile. She had hoped for the roof to shake from clapping. Secretly wished for young women overwhelmed with jealousy to pass out in the aisles. Half-expected a dozen suitors to drop knee and propose their hand and lands. Instead, she was greeted with polite applause. A coldness met her eyes as she peered over the crowd.
One way or another, they, too, would soon be hers.
“Things between us haven’t been right for a long time, and I didn’t even get a chance to fix them,” Heather said between sobs, holding Scar’s body close. “I’ll miss him so much.”
Janda cried helplessly in the thralls of Heather’s ability as she kneeled with her arms wrapped around her. Eventually, Janda’s arm began to tingle as though falling asleep, and she pulled away, ha
ving to fight Heather’s influence for every inch. She opened her eyes and tried shaking the sleep out of her arm. Janda’s heart began to race and she started pulling Heather’s hand from Scar.
“What?” Heather snapped.
“Look!” Janda pointed down at the lab’s scar.
Heather stopped petting his coat and leaned forward to inspect the scar. Tiny burgundy bubbles boiled and popped along the injury. A small green cloud emerged from the old wound, slowly expanding around the dog. The bubbles became larger. Scar still did not breathe. The bubbles crept underneath his fur, reaching out to his paws, his tail, and head. Parts of Scar began to enlarge unnaturally.
“We need to get him out of the house,” Heather said in panic, dropping the quickly-growing lab on the tile floor. “Now!”
Janda nodded silently and pushed the dog’s hindquarters while Heather pulled his paws. They slid him down the hallway as the green cloud and burgundy bubbles forced Scar to grow larger. His eyes still shut, the dog breathed, yipping and moaning while one leg twitched uncontrollably.
Scar was almost the size of a full-grown horse and getting larger fast, his fur transforming into sharp needles.
“Ouch!” Janda yelled, jerking her hands back. She licked blood from her finger and looked to Heather for guidance.
“We need to hurry,” Heather pleaded, her face a storm of hope and worry.
Wrapping her hands with the end of her skirt, Janda continued pushing. The entrance was only feet away as they struggled with the growing dog. New legs pushed grotesquely through Scar’s side. They were stopped halfway through the doorway, as the dog was too large to fit through. His four eyes opened. They were an ominous, dark red.
“What do we do now?” Janda said, out of breath, pressing her bleeding hand hard against her skirt.
Janda scrambled over the dog, careful to avoid the spiky fur quickly growing into daggers. The creature’s breathing was rapid, and as she cleared the entrance to stand beside Heather, Scar barked. The house shook.
“Run!” Heather yelled as she turned to the door.
Rose stood on her tiptoes at the very edge of chaos, staring at the round waterfall. She glanced over her shoulder to see dozens of tentacles lashing out. Her heart raced painfully, and she clawed at her chest in desperation. The tentacles were coming closer.
“This is your fault!” she screamed at Chryslaenor.
Black lightning grew from the blade, biting at her hand and striking the creature she stood on. It shuddered in pain. More of the hairy tentacles shot up from the water and began their frenzied search, now even closer.
“I hate you,” Rose said to the blackness. “You’re holding me, and Chryslaenor, captive, and I’ll do everything I can to stop you. Starting with this!”
Rose took a deep breath, ran to the end of the monster, and leaped over the edge of the waterfall.
51
Angst walked to Victoria and reached out to help her up. She shakily took his hand and stood. Victoria held onto his hand, squeezing with all her might, concentrating to find something. Her thin brows furrowed with concern, and she looked at Angst as though she didn’t recognize him.
“With all my power, I will let you in,” Angst whispered.
She continued to grip his hand and, after several moments, her eyes filled with tears. “Maybe there is something?” she lied with a fake smile.
“Don’t worry about us, we’re fine,” Hector sniped, standing on his own.
She ignored Hector, staring up at Angst with a quivering lip. “No, you’re gone,” she admitted. “I can’t feel you anymore.”
“I swear you still know me,” Angst pleaded. He let go of her hand and tapped a finger to his forehead. “Concentrate. Focus. Wield your power, don’t just assume. You can still see me.”
Victoria shook her head in consternation. She placed a hand on his cheek and tilted her head to one side quizzically. “Maybe...a little,” she said hopefully. “But your eyes...”
“What’s that about his eyes?” Dallow stood by the wall, dusting himself off.
Tarness and Hector approached Angst, staring at his eyes. The iris was still blue, but the pupil was now a dark burgundy.
“His center is red, almost brown,” Hector told Dallow.
“That’s amazing,” Dallow said. “I’ve never heard of anything like that in my life.”
“Looks sharp,” Tarness said, slapping him on the arm. “Alloria will like it.”
“Really?” Angst asked hopefully.
Victoria slapped him hard on the mouth and stomped out of the room.
“What was that about?” Hector asked.
“It’s complicated.” Angst hefted Dulgirgraut and set it on his back. It locked into place as though held by an invisible sheath, now resting over his left shoulder instead of his right where Chryslaenor had sat.
“Isn’t it always, with you?” Dallow quipped. “How do you feel?”
“Back to normal,” Angst said with a knowing smile.
“Normal?” Dallow asked.
“Well, all things considered,” Angst replied with a chuckle. “I don’t feel like my head is going to split open anymore, and I don’t feel...empty.”
“Good,” Dallow said, sounding hopeful. “So...”
“Let’s go find Rose.” Angst patted his friend on the shoulder.
They followed Victoria out of the chamber to find King Gaarder storming toward them with a troop of Rehman soldiers in their shadowy blue armor. His cheeks were dark red, and his white hair whisked back as he led the men. Gaarder pointed at the sword towering over Angst’s shoulder. The soldiers pompously ignored the dusky burgundy glow surrounding Dulgirgraut’s blade, taking a defensive stance as they stopped to face Angst and his friends.
Behind the king stood Captain Guard Crloc, holding Tori by the back of her neck with one hand. He squeezed tight enough to make her wince. A bitter grin accompanied his sneer as he gazed at her exposed flesh. He pulled her head close and took a deep sniff of her hair. His cheek was bruised and dried blood covered his chin where Victoria must have gotten the better of him earlier.
“Put that sword back now!” King Gaarder commanded. “Or your princess dies.”
Angst’s right eyebrow raised in surprise. He looked back at his friends with their weapons at the ready and shook his head. They lowered their weapons but didn’t sheath them.
“This is your one chance to stand down!” Angst offered to the king. “Lower your weapons, let the princess go, or Melkier will never be the same.”
The king peered at Angst, assessing his opponent. Gaarder looked at the man and the giant sword he wielded. He looked to his Captain Guard for advice.
“Would you like me to snap your girlfriend’s neck?” Crloc growled at Angst.
Angst ignored Crloc, continuing to gaze at Gaarder. Then Angst’s hands began to glow.
“Kill her,” the king commanded, slashing at the air with his hand.
Angst’s eyes flashed red, and the soldiers behind the king flew into the walls. Angst reached out to their bones, and they screamed as they became flush with the rock-hewn corridor, as if pulled into the stone. Crloc’s grip around Victoria’s neck was wrenched open, his armored fingers spread wide apart and at unnatural angles. Crloc refused to cry out, but it was obvious his fingers weren’t supposed to bend that way.
Freed from his grip, Victoria stretched her neck from side to side then calmly walked to Angst.
“Pig!” she snarled at Crloc before facing Angst. “I think you should kill him.”
“I thought Melkier was an ally?” Angst asked.
“After treating me like this?” Victoria asked in surprise.
Angst pulled his gaze away from King Gaarder and looked at the Captain Guard with disgust. “If I had more time, I’d slap you to tears,” Angst threatened. “But I’ve learned that won’t beat sense into you. I’m trying to be...a better person.”
“Coward.” Crloc smiled triumphantly.
“Angst?�
�� There was disappointment in her voice, and Tori cocked her head and looked at him in surprise. “Do you see what he asked me to wear?”
“You did put it on...” Angst chided.
“What was I supposed to do?” Victoria snapped. “I was trying to save your life!”
“You could’ve said no.”
“What, you don’t like me in this?” she asked.
“It’s not that...” Angst said, staring at her angrily.
“Not now, kids,” Hector grumbled.
“I told you! Your boyfriend is a coward!” Crloc yelled. “That’s why she gave in to m—”
Angst willed Crloc’s jaw shut. He stared at Victoria in panic, guilt-stricken that he hadn’t been there to save her. That he was led past her room and didn’t even stop to help.
“He tried to rape me, Angst,” she said quietly. “I got away, but only barely.”
The blue hue around Angst’s hands and the burgundy glow in his eyes flared dangerously as he set his jaw and turned his gaze on Crloc. The large Captain Guard with his large beard seemed a statue, locked into place, his joints unmoving. Angst stepped closer, a burgundy hue glowing brightly around Dulgirgraut. Angst placed his hand on Crloc’s dark armored chest and closed his eyes in concentration. Nothing happened at first as he struggled with the dragonbone imbued within the armor.
“It’s just another mineral, Angst,” Dallow advised quietly. “You did it once already.”
Angst felt the metal, felt his will sinking into it as if it were made of snow. A shadowy blue drip fell from Crloc’s left elbow like water, followed by another. Every one of the Rehmans’ guards gasped in surprise as the dragonbone melted away from the Captain Guard’s steel, dripping to the floor like fresh paint in a heavy spring rain.
“No!” King Gaarder pleaded, pulling Angst’s arm desperately. “You can’t do this! You don’t know what danger this brings!”
Within moments, the blue-black protection was gone, leaving a traditional, tarnished chrome and steel suit of armor—free of resistance from fire, or magic. Angst continued staring at the man. Crloc’s eyes grew wide with panic, and he whimpered through his closed mouth.
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