Carrick couldn’t stop the low curse that came out of his mouth. “Fuck.”
The woman under the hood was not a human.
It was Nimeyah.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Deandra snarled, moving to Carrick’s side. She leaned forward to look past him at Finley. “I thought you said the sacrifice was human.”
Finley didn’t look at Deandra, her gaze riveted on the Light Fae queen who merely stared straight ahead as if this was no bother to her at all. Carrick knew that she was indeed under some type of spell as she would have used her tremendous magic to get out of this mess.
“I thought it was supposed to be a human,” Finley muttered, the astonishment clear in her tone.
“Twelve like,” Carrick said, repeating what they knew of the ritual. “That was twelve original Dark Fae Fallen.”
“And one unlike,” Finley growled, understanding that did not mean her or a human at all. “An original Light Fae Fallen.”
Finley finally tore her gaze away from the ritual circle to look at Deandra. “I just assumed… and then when Blain was held hostage and we were told that he was a sacrifice, that was just more proof it was a human who was needed as the unlike.”
Deandra shook her head, irritation clear in her expression as her attention turned back to her mother. “A ruse to keep us occupied. We were making plans, recruiting forces, and rescuing your human friend from sacrifice, and she and Pyke were in Faere kidnapping my mother.”
“Damn it,” Finley growled. She bet Echo was sent to them to provide the information regarding Blain, distracting them from ever considering Nimeyah would be in immediate danger.
“Don’t bother chastising yourself,” Deandra returned, everyone’s eyes still pinned on the ritual clearing. “Nimeyah refused to help. She refused to believe Kymaris would come after her. She didn’t take the power of the Blood Stone seriously. This is on her.”
No one replied, but Carrick could feel Finley’s guilt. He would talk to her later to help ease it, but for now, things were moving fast and decisions had to be made.
Everyone watched as Kymaris moved out of the north side of the ritual circle and approached Amell. When she stopped before him, she was no more than thirty-five yards away from where Carrick and his forces stood in the dark watching.
They exchanged no words, but within Kymaris’ hand appeared an ancient-looking scroll. She handed it to Amell before silently turning away from him. Surprisingly, she didn’t enter the circle again but moved counterclockwise around it, heading back to the south side of the field.
“We should go in now,” Rebsha said, coming to stand beside Deandra. The worry for his queen was evident in his tone.
“Yes, we should,” Carrick agreed as Kymaris came to a stop at the opposite end of the field. She turned slowly around to face them again. Just as he was getting ready to issue the command, the alarm on his watch went off.
The tinny beeping caught everyone’s attention as they knew what it signaled.
The midnight hour.
Amell unfurled the scroll, calling out words in an unknown language, and the ground started to shake violently. Everyone spread their legs a little further out to maintain balance, and they watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as Kymaris began to rise into the air. A circular portion of the ground about ten feet in diameter pushed up from the earth, rising upward in a pedestal formed of dirt and stone. She went up and up, at least twenty feet in the air, and smiled smugly at the pawns in her ritual down below.
It had started.
The stone at her chest flared to life, firing to a bright red glow. Kymaris stretched her hands outward and Amell started chanting, rhythmic words that even Carrick in all his millennia didn’t understand.
Most everyone was transfixed on the stone at Kymaris’ chest so no one quite saw that it was the circle of twelve that was changing. The fae who had been standing placidly with their heads bowed and hands clasped over their stomachs suddenly straightened and then went stiff as boards. Some of the fae hoods even fell back, revealing their faces, which were etched in pain.
Something in the air popped, and an arc of blue electricity started at the fae directly below Kymaris and went counterclockwise around the circle. It seemingly went through the body of each fae and into the one beside it until they were all connected. If the fae felt it, they gave nothing away, still standing stiff as boards, eyes bulging and mouths opened as if they wanted to cry out.
The blue arc completed the circle, and Carrick heard Finley gasp as it shot from the last fae into the middle of the circle.
Straight into Nimeyah, who was tied to the pole.
She had already been standing straight and proud, but she did issue a scream when the blue light hit her. It was cut off quickly, though, as if she became paralyzed from the power surging into her.
And there was no doubt it was intense power reverberating through the fae and into Nimeyah as Carrick could feel it vibrating over his skin.
Amell’s chant grew louder until he finally was yelling out the last words of whatever he was reading from the scroll. When he finished, his eyes looked up to Kymaris and she raised her arms above her head.
The blue light coursing through the fae brightened, and, one by one—starting with the first fae—they burst into a cloud of ash. Around the circle, they disintegrated into nothing, the blue light fading as each one died. Until finally, the last one disappeared—the blue light surging strongly into Nimeyah, who started to glow blue herself.
She made no sound.
Didn’t move a muscle.
Just took the power into her.
Carrick couldn’t wait anymore. Into his comms, he issued the command to Maddox and Titus.
One word. “Now.”
In a burst of determination and pent-up energy, bolstered by fear and the absolute need to defeat evil, all of those who came to stand with Carrick and Finley rushed through the darkness of their cloaking spell to the edge of the tree line and poured onto the ritual clearing.
Everyone moved into battle except for Myles and Zora, who stayed in the safety of the darkness, along with Finley. She didn’t move to follow as her orders were clear. She was to stay there until Carrick and Maddox could get to Kymaris and distract her.
For a moment, the daemons and fae guarding were startled as they had been transfixed by the ritual, but after several fell from blasts of magic and mighty iron swords as the Brevalians, Light Fae, and annihilators surged onto the ritual field, they remembered their duty to protect Kymaris and the ritual and started fighting back.
Boral and Zaid were engaged two on one, battling Amell, who had immense strength and magic, but Boral and Zaid together were a psychotic Ravager team that managed to keep Amell on the defensive with their swords.
The air was filled with clanging metal, screams of pain, and sizzling pops of magic that left a sulfuric smell in the air.
Carrick skidded to a stop as soon as he entered the field, surveying the entire scene with keen warrior eyes. He caught Titus, Caiden, and Priya on the east side, cutting through the daemons and engaging with the more powerful fae.
Brevalians flew in from the treetops, dropping onto unsuspecting Dark Fae, where they brandished battle axes and long swords to cut into their enemy. He watched Deandra rush toward the center, iron sword drawn as she made a beeline toward her brother, who was staring raptly at Kymaris on her pedestal. Deandra’s cry of vengeance startled him, and he turned just in time to conjure a sword of his own and block her downward hacking swing.
Their fight began in earnest, and Carrick’s attention was drawn to the west side by Maddox. He was on the field, gauging the best way to attack Kymaris, who was still twenty feet up in the air.
He didn’t hesitate, being closer to Kymaris than Carrick was, and leveled a blast of magic straight to the middle of the dirt and stone pedestal Kymaris stood upon. It obliterated the earthen column and Kymaris went tumbling to the ground, momentarily hidden by the mushroo
m of dust and debris that billowed into the air.
It was the perfect time to attack her.
Carrick prepared to bend distance right to that spot where Kymaris had gone down, but something prickled at the back of his neck, causing him to turn toward the edge of the tree line from where he’d just been with Finley, Zora, and Myles.
Finley watched the battle, completely contrary to his orders to stay hidden in the cloaked darkness. Her eyes met his defiantly and she lifted her chin, a silent statement that while he might be rightfully in charge of this entire battle plan, he was not in charge of her.
He wanted to throttle her as much as kiss her, but before he could even level a glare or a grin her way, movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.
At first glance, it was a Dark Fae walking purposely across the field with his eyes pinned on Finley with determination. He strode with purpose, sidestepping battles without a weapon in hand.
Carrick focused in on the creature, feeling a vibe of pure energy that rivaled the way the Blood Stone felt when he first held it in his hand, and he knew it was no Dark Fae.
That was a god disguised as a fae and heading straight for Finley, and there was no mistaking the malicious intent in his expression.
Carrick only needed one guess as to who it might be, and he knew Rune was going to end Carrick’s love right here before Finley even got a chance to prove herself as a savior.
Kymaris was forgotten, and Carrick left it to Maddox to take her on.
Finley was in trouble, and she was all that mattered.
CHAPTER 27
Finley
No matter how much I’ve thought of this moment over the months or how much I knew this was coming, it was something I never fully comprehended. War is not for the faint of heart. The clashing of weapons, the screams of death, and the smell of black fae and daemon blood—which is coppery like human blood—causes my stomach to roll.
I can’t do this, is all that keeps playing through my head.
I shouldn’t have moved so close to the ritual clearing, but I couldn’t help but follow Carrick and the others as they issued their war cries and rushed forward. It was my calling, yet they were leading the way and duty demanded I follow.
But I stopped at the edge, completely struck cold and frozen with fear as I took it all in. Part of me wanted to run back into the cloaked darkness and huddle with Zora and Myles, but the bigger part simply couldn’t move.
Closest to me was Amell, who was battling Boral and Zaid at the same time. Amell had magic whereas Boral and Zaid did not. But the father-son duo of Ravager fame so relentlessly struck at Amell with their swords that he was completely on the defensive just trying to protect his vitals from the life-ending iron.
My gaze swings to the inner circle, and I’m mesmerized by Nimeyah who glows brightly with a blue aura around her. If she has any magic of her own left, she doesn’t use it. She seems frozen in place, nothing more than a vessel for Kymaris.
It’s the battle between brother and sister raging right by their mother that grabs my real attention. Deandra and Pyke swing swords while throwing punches and kicks. The two Light Fae royals—prince and princess… siblings—have expressions filled with hate and fury.
Deandra has the edge, though, because Pyke is fighting only for love of Kymaris, which everyone knows simply isn’t real. Deandra is fighting for both love and hate.
Love of her mother, her realm of Faere, and for light. She also has the added benefit of hating her brother for all he has wrought upon her race. When it’s all said and done, I know she’ll kill him.
I let my gaze sweep the field, looking desperately for my other friends—Titus, Caiden, Priya, and Rebsha.
I can’t find them, but then a massive boom shakes the ground. Somehow, I see that Kymaris and her tall pedestal of rock have disappeared into a balloon of dust. Standing at the edge is Maddox, looking greatly satisfied.
Carrick.
Where is he?
My heart seems to know because my gaze involuntarily swings to the left, and there he is. Not engaged in battle. Not moving to help Maddox contain Kymaris.
He’s watching me, irritation in his eyes that I came this close to the battle before it was time. Also some amusement because I didn’t listen to him.
And as always… unconditional love.
Something catches his attention off to the side, but I don’t let myself get distracted. I take just one more moment to gaze upon my soul mate, knowing that no matter what happens, the one thing that he and I have is eternity. In that way, we are more fortunate than all the others.
Movement to my right catches my eye, and I become alarmed as I realize the expression on Carrick’s face has turned fearful.
I twist to see what’s coming at me, but before I can even understand what it is, a burst of magic hits me square in the chest and I’m catapulted backward. I’m blasted back a good twenty feet and while I call on my magic to soften the blow to the ground, the wind is still knocked clean out of me when I hit.
Wheezing, I push up to my elbows. Against the backdrop of the battle on the ritual field, I see a Dark Fae advancing on me with hate-filled eyes. His hair is dark, his eyes black and fangs peek out at the corners of his mouth. I can feel the power rolling off him as he gets nearer.
It surrounds me, suffocates me until I can’t breathe.
Pressure squeezes my head until tears leak from my eyes and something runs out of my nose. I rub at it with the back of my hand, pull my sticky fingers away, and peer down to realize its blood.
Whatever this Dark Fae is, his magic is powerful enough to kill me quickly. I manage to find the strength to crab walk backward, but it’s in no way fast enough to get away.
I throw out a hand in an attempt to shoot a blast of magic at him, but nothing comes out. The pressure surrounding my body has trapped my magic inside me. I can feel it bubbling, but I can’t release it.
When the fae comes toe to toe with me, he glares down. His lips peel back in a sinister grin and he rasps, “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”
And then to my shock, his face begins to distort and melt, until I realize I’m watching a glamour receding.
A powerful glamour I could not see under.
Rune stands before me, and I know I’m dead.
“You can’t,” I try to argue because the gods are not to interfere. But deep in my heart, I know that Rune has never played by the rules, nor does he care for them.
“I can,” he replies coldly. “I can stop your attempts to thwart Kymaris, kill you now, and then stand by and watch as Carrick finds your dead body. I can’t wait to hear his howls of pain.”
Without dwelling too much on how demented this god is, I try to keep him talking because every word we exchange will forestall my death. “Why do you care if Kymaris wins? I thought the gods didn’t care about outcomes, only how the game is played.”
Rune laughs, and it’s the evil kind heard in the movies. Deep and taunting. His voice bubbles with superiority. “I am the god of Life, which means I am the god of Death. The Underworld and all of its inherent evil have always been more precious to me than the Earth realm.”
“Or you’ve struck some kind of deal with Kymaris,” I allege condescendingly. I don’t actually believe that at all, as Rune has no true need of Kymaris. It’s a stall tactic, no more.
I can see the idea of him stooping to strike a deal with anyone offends him, but before he can retort or smite me, something comes flying at Rune.
It’s a blur, so fast I can’t make out the details, but, in my heart, I know it’s Carrick.
He crashes into Rune so hard there’s a tiny pop as the magic he had surrounded me with releases. Hurriedly, I suck in a huge breath as my lungs start to fill.
I scramble up just as Rune and Carrick go rolling over and over on the ground. When they stop, they both jump apart and ready themselves to battle.
“You stay the fuck away from her,” Carrick snarls, and the ground actu
ally shakes from the volume of his fury.
“Careful, demi-god,” Rune sneers. “I can kill you both with the snap of my finger.”
Carrick doesn’t give him a chance to act, merely charges.
Actually bends distance since, in a flash, he’s before Rune, throwing an uppercut to Rune’s jaw that is so powerful, the god goes flying upward a few feet before crashing to the ground.
But Rune is infinitely stronger than Carrick and he disappears, only to reappear with his hand around Carrick’s throat. He squeezes, lifting my love off his feet, and blood starts trickling out of the corner of Carrick’s mouth.
“Yes,” Rune taunts with a laugh. “I can kill you with a snap of my finger, but I’d rather draw it out.”
“No,” I scream so loudly I can feel my throat shredding with the vehemence in my voice.
I run for Rune, intent on attacking him, but also knowing it will be futile. I make it no more than one step when there is a massive boom and a flash of white light that blinds me and I’m knocked backward off my feet. Once again, I land on my back as the breath is knocked out of me.
Sitting up, I shake my head, which is fuzzy, and blink my eyes to focus on what that was.
And before me stands four of the five gods… Veda, Circe, Onyx, and Cato. But they are different. Not in casual clothing or with serene smiles of good luck on their faces like they had mere hours ago.
All four are dressed in shining plates of battle armor over buttery leather pants and shirts. They are glowing so brightly I have to put my hand up to shield my eyes.
All four are glaring with rage at Rune, who, to my surprise, is on his knees with a golden sphere of a cage around him. It has webbing that covers the entire circumference, and it doesn’t provide a large enough hole for him to escape. However, the thing vibrates with such power, I can tell he couldn’t escape it if he wanted to.
The Rise of Fortune and Fury Page 28