"Spry, aren't we?" he said. "Just like our childhood. You, standing there trying to defeat me. Me, pitying your attempts."
I swallowed my retort—better to let him think I was nervous. It wasn't hard, because I was, but it all played into it.
"This has been your game for a long time, hasn't it, Gav?" Cyrus said. "You let me do your dirty work, killing Alexandra because you lacked the stomach for it. Then, when you think I'm weak, you come to take my throne?"
"Is that how you think it is?" I said, dodging his spells with ease. "That I've wanted to be Guildmaster?"
"Isn't it? You couldn't stand that Alexandra doted on me, wanted me to follow in her footsteps." His eyes had grown wild with anger as he worked himself into a frenzy. "And so you bided your time until the moment was right."
"Right, I bided my time." I couldn't help myself; I laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"You," I said with a sad shake of my head. "You have no idea what my life has been like since I made the tear. I didn't want to be Guildmaster, Cyrus. You forced this when you challenged Alexandra."
"Because she was going to give it to you. You haven't earned it. You don't deserve to be Guildmaster."
I deflected one of his spells. "Neither do you."
The spells came fast and furious, and it was all I could do to keep him from knocking me into next week. My instincts, which had been dormant for so long, struggled to keep pace. But Cyrus hadn't learned his lesson, intending to use all his magic in a show of force and not reserving any for later.
I threw up a barrier so I could take a breath, but his attack spell shredded it, sending me backward.
"No rest for the weary, Gav," he said, although I heard a note of windedness in his voice as well. "Get up and fight me."
And again, we moved, parrying and blocking each other's strikes, the magic slamming against the dome barrier like booming thunder. A light sheen of sweat had broken out on my forehead as I moved, and fatigue crept into the back of my mind.
A spell that sounded more like a freight train came toward me, and I couldn't react fast enough to get out of the way. I tumbled head over feet until I hit the edge of the dome. My head spun and blackness circled my vision. If I collapsed, Cyrus would most assuredly kill me. But it was so hard to keep the darkness at bay.
Something was digging into my pants pocket, so I pulled it out—Marie's little plastic toy. It seemed so ridiculous in this world of darkness and cold to see something so bright and cheery. It was supposed to be a horse, but was cartoonish and humanoid.
Closing my eyes, I thought about her little hand against my chest and the healing magic. If I concentrated, I could imagine her healing me. It wasn't real, but it got me upright.
Cyrus growled as I got to my feet; he was tired, too.
"Can't you just die?" he said, wiping his forehead.
"Unfortunately, I have something to live for."
With most of the energy I had left, I released one final spell. Cyrus tried to block, but it tore right through his barrier, hitting him in the chest and sending him back to the edge of our dome. And there he lay, panting, miserable. Ready to quit, but too proud to.
And that was when I knew I'd beaten him. Because although I had four very large reasons to continue living, he only had one.
I limped toward him, sensing his magic hanging on by a thread. "Surrender."
"No."
"Please," I said. "I don't want to kill you."
He looked up at me, squinting through a trail of blood that dripped down his face. "What?"
"If you continue fighting, you'll die. And I'd hate to lose my brother so soon after I've lost my mother."
He blinked at me. "Are you…serious? You'd let me live?"
"You would not be Guildmaster," I said. "But I'd let you remain on the Council. You will have to curb your selfishness, treat the villagers with respect. If you can stomach that, I'll let you live."
"Why?"
Why indeed? Cyrus was a narcissistic juvenile, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to kill him. Perhaps I just didn't like the idea of losing another Warrior so soon. Perhaps I just couldn't stomach the idea of killing. Or maybe it was that I wasn't sure I could take that final step without forfeiting my life as well.
"I…surrender," Cyrus said, staring at the sky before he fell into unconsciousness.
A swell of magic burst from within me.
Knowing that I was the Guildmaster was the last thought I had before I keeled over.
Thirty-Seven
Sometime later, I heard voices around me. Someone lifted my head and ladled dirty water into my mouth, which I sputtered and spat out.
"Guildmaster, you must drink."
"M-Mary?" I cracked open an eye. "What am I doing here?"
"You collapsed," she said. "Both of you. Cyrus is…well, he's alive. We don't understand. How can you be Guildmaster, and he be alive?"
"I spared him," I whispered, my throat raw. It would've been so nice to fall back asleep, but there was something keeping me in this world. Something digging into my leg from my pocket.
My eyes flew open.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"Several hours, Master Gavon. It's the afternoon—"
I sprang from the bed, barely acknowledging the spinning room. Transporting was out of the question, so I limped from Mary's house, coming to a village full of cheering people. They patted me on the back, clapped my shoulders, tried to hug and kiss me. But I pushed through them all, running as well as I could on a swollen ankle and bruised kneecaps. I couldn't go straight to the tear—they would follow me. So I pushed my way toward Alexandra's house, swinging open the door and slamming it shut behind me.
Transporting was still not an option, but Alexandra usually had a spare vial of healing potion somewhere in her office. So I limped inside, falling down at her desk and using what limited magic I had left to scour her drawers.
"Why did you let me live?"
Cyrus was sitting on the chaise, his face black and blue and pale.
"I told you," I said, finding the vial at the bottom of one of the drawers. I ripped open the cap and drank it, feeling the immediate effects. "I didn't want to kill you."
"But you could have."
I leaned against the desk. "I'm not sure. It doesn't matter now, you surrendered."
"You tricked me," he said.
"Believe what you want." I straightened and tossed him the second vial of potion. "There's nothing to be done about it now."
I transported out of the office, ignoring whatever else Cyrus had to say. He should've been grateful I'd let him live, not blaming me for trickery. I'd done nothing to force him to surrender, merely played on the idea that he loved himself over everything else.
But more importantly, it had been several hours since the charmed envelope I'd left my wife had reappeared on the kitchen counter. Had she read it—and had she used the potion?
I arrived at the tear and heaved a sigh of relief. The tear was still there.
With a smile, I dove head-first into the tear and landed on the other side. My magic was still weak, but I used a little to get me back home. I landed in a heap against the front door, wishing I'd saved that second potion for myself.
"Mora?"
"Gavon? Oh my God, Gavon!" Mora came skidding into the front hall. "Gavon, what the hell? Where have you been? I got this weird letter from you and—"
"So you read it?" I said, cracking open an eye.
"Yeah, I read it," she said, her voice changing from worried to angry. "And you have some serious explaining to do."
"Daddy! Daddy's home!" Nicole announced at the top of the stairs. She and Marie took them two-by-two, barreling into me with hugs and kisses. Marie, ever the astute baby, surveyed me with those piercing blue eyes and touched the bruise on my cheek. A warmth spread from there, all the way down to my fingers and toes.
"Thank you, Marie," I said. "But you don't have to do that."
"Wha
t's she doing?" Nicole asked. "Is she healing you? I want to heal you! Can you get my potion for me?"
"Enough," Mora said. "Nicole, take your sister upstairs. Daddy and Mommy need to have a talk."
"But—"
"You can give Daddy your potion later," she said with a forced smile. "Take your sister upstairs."
Nicole took Marie's hand and did as she was told, casting worried looks over her shoulder. I gave her a thumbs-up, feeling much better than I had before Marie's healing, but also nursing a sick feeling in the bottom of my stomach.
"In the kitchen," Mora said, turning and walking inside.
I followed her, wincing as I put pressure on my ankle and summoning some of Nicole's potion that I'd stored away. It healed my ankle, but I would still need a few days of rest to fully recover.
"So," Mora said, sliding the opened envelope and vial of potion across the counter, "care to share what the fuck is going on?"
"I told Alexandra about the tear," I said, taking a seat at the counter. "She said I would become Guildmaster. Cyrus didn't like that, so he challenged her. He won, obviously."
"I know that."
"Yes, well…" I sighed. "Cyrus was going to compel me to tell him where the tear was. He could, as Guildmaster. So I told him I'd close the tear if he did. And he said he'd…well, he said he'd kill every last person in New Salem if I did that. So the only thing I had left was to…challenge him."
"The only thing?" She shook her head. "Gavon, you have the potion to close the tear. Instead, you decided to become Guildmaster?"
"Mora, he was going to kill people—"
"I don't care about them, Gavon. What I care about is my husband choosing to put himself in danger when he's got a wife and kids here who need him. You don't owe those people anything! And now…now you're their leader. Well, isn't that just perfect."
"I had no choice, Mora! Cyrus could've forced me to divulge the location of the tear—"
"You made the choice when you decided to keep the tear open," she said. "You could've closed it twelve years ago and you just didn't."
My mouth hung open. "I don't know how to close it, darling. We've gone over this a thousand times—"
"You say that. But I don't believe it. Not when every time I talk to you, you're trying to get around it. Trying some other experiment on potions or whatever. You've been half-assing this the whole time, because you don't want to close the tear. You'd rather put your mother and everyone else above your own family. Above me and your daughters."
"That's not true, and it's unfair," I said. "I challenged Cyrus precisely to keep you safe!"
"If you wanted to keep us safe, you would have used that potion," she said. "You could have stopped this once and for all."
"Then why didn't you use it?" I said, nodding to the vial.
"Maybe I should have," she said. "Then at least I would've known you'd made your choice."
"Mora…"
She placed her hand on her stomach. "You know what? I can't look at you right now. Just go back to New Salem or whatever. Go lead your guild. Maybe I'll use that potion and lock you in there."
"Fine," I snapped. I marched to the door when I heard sniffling at the top of the stairs. Nicole sat at the top holding onto Marie, whose bright blue eyes were wide and fearful. Our fighting must've been louder than I'd thought.
"Daddy, where are you going?" Nicole whispered. "Why are you and Mommy yelling?"
I climbed the stairs slowly and knelt in front of them both. "Sometimes Mommy and I disagree. I'm sorry if it scared you."
"Are you leaving forever?" Nicole asked.
I chuckled, holding her cheek. "Of course not. Daddy's just gonna run up to the store for a bit. Get Mommy some ice cream or something. I promise I'll be home soon. Can you be a good girl and take care of your sister? Make sure Mommy doesn't get too upset?"
Nicole nodded. "Can you bring me flowers so we can make a potion?"
"Of course," I said, rising once more. "Anything else?"
She screwed up her face. "Don't go too long."
"I won't," I said.
I stopped once more to give the baby a kiss on the forehead and waited in the foyer for my wife to appear and tell me not to go. But she was angry with me, and she would be for a while. Perhaps I deserved it. Before I left, I summoned a giant bouquet of flowers and left it on the dining room table.
I walked down the sidewalk, glowering at anyone and everything. I knew I was being unreasonable, and on some level, I understood why Mora was angry with me. But I'd just survived a deadly match with my mortal enemy. Would it kill her to be a little more supportive?
I rubbed the stabbing pain above my eyebrow. I could've used some more potion, or some more healing. But I kept walking, knowing that Mora and I would go for round two if I returned right now. She needed space, I needed space, and tonight we'd make up. I'd promise her nothing would change, and I'd make her understand that I'd done what I did to keep her safe. Cyrus would now be permanently under my control through the Council, which I'd have to reinstate.
Another pain joined the first. I was Guildmaster. That…was its own challenge. I would seek out Ashley, get some pointers…
"You'd rather put your mother and everyone else above your own family. Above me and your daughters."
As I walked, I relived each moment of our fight. And as much as I hated to admit it, Mora was right.
I found myself at the water's edge, the very place where Mora and I had first met twelve years before. It was a lifetime ago. I'd been an ignorant idiot and she'd been a wild hellion. Together, we'd changed. Grown. I'd become smarter and she'd become tamer. I wouldn't trade her for anything.
And yet, I had. I'd bargained that I would be able to defeat Cyrus. I'd put the lives of my family on the line just to…what? Prove a point? No, I had a little more reason than that. I couldn't choose between them and the people in New Salem.
But perhaps it was time to.
The tear stood before me, crackling and furious as ever. I summoned the cauldron of Johanna's potion, levitating it to my side. It was time that I ended this once and for all.
I'd left Mary with plenty of bread, enough to last them for years to come. And into Humbert's house, I sent cases of milk and beer. I would find a way to undo what I was about to do, once I had the original signatories of the Danvers Accord onboard with updating it. And then, the people of New Salem would be free.
Using magic, I tipped the cauldron and poured an infinity symbol, the liquid silver lighting up with magic as it hit the sand in front of the tear. I held my breath, apologizing silently to those who would be stuck with Cyrus. I hoped my position as Guildmaster would remain, even though I was separate. That would keep Cyrus at bay for a little bit.
The tear glowed bright white, and I closed my eyes and waited.
…but nothing happened.
The tear remained, crackling and popping. I could feel the magical signatures of those on the other side in New Salem. It was open—Johanna's potion hadn't worked.
My jaw fell open and disappointment slammed into me like a ton of bricks. I'd been so sure it would work. In my gut, I'd known this was it. This was the thing that would work.
But it hadn't. And now…now I was back at square one.
"Oh shit," I mumbled to myself, rubbing my face. Mora was going to have a field day. Irene was going to have a field day.
But before I could dwell on that too much, a loud booming drew my attention. For a split second, I thought it was from the tear, but dismissed that as the sound had come from this side. I turned, spying a bright light in the distance. It looked like something had caught on fire…
My heart sank. It couldn't be my house.
And yet…
Thirty-Eight
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, telling myself that it wasn't my house, but knowing—just knowing—that it was. I turned onto my street to see it filled with firetrucks and people. The sight was so jarring I couldn't process it—I was just m
esmerized by the dancing orange flames.
Then, slowly, my brain kicked into gear. And I couldn't breathe.
I scrambled toward the house, calling out my wife's name, scanning the wreckage for their magical signatures. When nothing came back, I closed my eyes and scanned the surrounding area for my girls' signatures. No matter how far, if they were… No, they were alive. They couldn't be…
Marie's magic blinked at me in the distance, and I sagged. Nicole's was fainter but nearby. Mora's was…
I couldn't find her.
I transported myself as close as I could get to them—in a closet in a hospital. I rushed out, ignoring the looks of surprise from the nurses as I leaned onto the counter.
"My wife, where is my wife?" I rasped.
"Calm down, sir," the woman said. "Who is your wife?"
"Mora McKinnon," I said. "Please…please help me find her."
The woman checked her computer then her face fell. "Follow… Follow me."
Numbly, I followed her to a closed door with the blinds drawn. She opened the door. My wife was on the bed, bathed in darkness as if she were sleeping. But I didn't need light to know.
There was no magic—no life.
Mora, the love of my life, the mother of my children, the most beautiful, vibrant woman I'd ever met, was gone.
I sank into a chair, the breath gone from my body. Guilt threatened to drown me—the last words we'd said were in anger. Had she known she was my everything? Had she understood the depths of my love for her? How I'd do anything for my girls?
"Oh, I didn't realize anyone was in here."
The woman in the doorway wore scrubs. A nurse, I supposed. Nonmagical. I didn't want her around to see the depths of my despair.
"Are you…her husband?" she asked quietly.
I nodded. "Go away."
She wrung her hands then disappeared through the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My wife was gone, my…
Oh my God, my child.
I buried my head in my hands, grief anew. The child couldn't have survived. I'd lost them both.
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