by Coco Ma
“I—I tried to heal him,” Asterin stammered. “I used the spell, but the wounds won’t close …”
Rose exhaled in a shaky rush. “We need to stop the bleeding.” She stood, head whipping around. “Fire—I need fire!” she hollered.
Orion dashed out of the door and returned with a torch from the corridor, iron bracket and all. He thrust it at Rose. “Hurry.”
Rose swiftly unstrapped the knife from Quinlan’s hip, holding the blade over the flame until the silver glowed red. Luna could barely stand to watch as Rose snapped off the arrowhead sticking out of his back with one steady hand and slid the shaft out of his body, immediately applying pressure to the exit wound. Once the blade cooled back to silver, she lined the flat of the knife along the entry wound, face grim, and pressed down.
Luna’s stomach lurched at the hiss of burning flesh, toes curling inside her boots. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but turn away, staring at Quinlan’s legs instead.
Asterin cursed softly as Rose levitated Quinlan onto his stomach and repeated the process on his back and arm.
They waited. Luna hardly dared to breathe, her heart racing in her chest.
An eternity later, Rose let the knife slip from her white-knuckled grip and clatter to the floor. “Well, that was a close one,” she said with a faint, airy chuckle. “Lucky bastard.”
They all released a collective sigh of relief.
And then, just when Luna began to think that the worst was finally over, Eadric groaned, the veins in his arms and neck bulging from strain as he gripped his affinity stone. They whirled around to find Priscilla thrashing wildly in the sphere, darkness flooding from her skin and shrouding her entire being.
“I don’t know how much longer I can hold her for!” Eadric shouted. “My magic—”
But before he could finish his sentence, the sphere exploded and Priscilla broke free.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Ahorrific screech ripped through the room as Priscilla took to the air, wings beating a flurry of wind that forced Asterin to grapple for Quinlan to keep him from sliding backward.
Eadric’s hands glistened scarlet, shards of his affinity stone imbedded in his palms and littering the ground.
Priscilla trembled with rage, raising her shadowstone above her head. “You dare lock me up like an animal—”
A blast of ice knocked the stone right out of her hand, sending it skittering across the floor. “Shut up, you bitch!” Orion hollered. He flicked his wrist and the black stone came whizzing to his feet. He brought his heel down upon it with a satisfying crunch.
“No!” Priscilla screamed.
Orion grinned, razor-sharp. “Oh, yes.” His next surge of ice struck Priscilla between the shoulder blades, shooting upward and encasing her wings. She plummeted to the ground, shrieking.
“Orion!” Asterin exclaimed, staring at the thick slab of ice coating his entire backside, mirroring what he had just done to Priscilla. “She’s cast a reflective spell upon herself, you can’t—”
Orion ignored her and raised his palms to fire another blast, binding Priscilla’s legs together as she tried in vain to shake off the ice on her wings. More ice raced down her shoulders to her fingertips, but even immobilized, she still attacked, hurling shadow arrow after shadow arrow at Orion. All of them missed by leagues.
In turn, Orion was buried to his chest in ice.
Eadric growled, raising his sword and smashing the hilt on the ice over and over until it splintered and Orion could wriggle free.
Then a sleek blur tore over their shoulders and struck Priscilla. The ice surrounding her disintegrated in a shower of black frost. Another blur hurtled by from behind them, and Priscilla staggered backward, a thin blade hewn from darkness piercing clean through her shoulder.
Behind them stood Harry, snarling in pain while silvery fluid leaked from his own shoulder.
“Harry!” Orion cried. “Stop! Rose, heal him—”
“Get away from me!” Harry shouted. Dozens more blades materialized around him, all aimed for Priscilla.
His intention dawned upon them. The blades were not just meant to stop her … but to kill.
“Harry, the reflective spell!” Rose exclaimed.
“I know,” he answered simply. “The time Priscilla borrowed from Eoin isn’t quite up yet, but I’m taking her to a place that she’ll never come back from. Where no one will find her. Where she won’t be able to touch any of you ever again.”
“And you?” Asterin demanded.
The demon didn’t respond. Instead, he raised his hand, clenching it into a fist as he conjured more shadow blades—until an army of terrifying darkness had assembled above his head. He began to shift uncontrollably from his human form to his demon form, his ears popping out from his skull and his fingers extending into claws before retracting again. A black silhouette rose from his shoulders—wings, looming over Priscilla, his own promise of eternal damnation.
Priscilla blanched at the sight and shrieked, “If you kill me, you’ll kill yourself!”
“See, the problem with killing an immortal,” Harry growled, his hellish wings continuing to grow, “is that you can’t.”
He snapped his wings to their full span and the blades flew, ripping into her body, her tortured screams shattering the air.
“Harry!” Orion yelled as the demon doubled over, silver blood gushing onto the floor. Orion scrambled forward, only to be knocked off his feet by a jerk of Harry’s chin.
“I said, stay back!” Harry bellowed, face twisted in agony. His eyes blazed pure white, brighter than the sun. A dark spiral formed behind Priscilla, who lay spread eagle on the floor, twitching in a growing pool of her own blood. The spiral swirled and widened, caving inward and beyond itself, leading to nowhere and everywhere all at once.
“Harry,” Orion snarled.
“I’ll be back,” Harry swore. “But this I owe to all of you.”
And with that, he surged into the air. He clutched one last dagger in his fist.
As the portal of darkness yawned open, Harry swooped down and grabbed Priscilla by the neck. She flailed pathetically, a final attempt to escape, gurgling and foaming at the mouth.
And just before the shadow portal swallowed them whole, Harry plunged the dagger into Priscilla’s heart.
In her shock, Asterin hardly heard Orion shout. When he bolted forward, her hand shot out by pure reflex, latching onto his wrist to yank him backward, but he wrenched himself free and lunged for the rapidly shrinking portal.
“Orion!” she screamed, racing after him, fingertips brushing the fabric of his sleeve, so, so close—
He dove into the darkness headfirst. The shadows enveloped him, sucking him away, and in less than a blink the portal ceased to exist.
Vanished. Right into thin air, taking Orion and Harry and Priscilla with it.
As the dust settled, no one spoke.
The seconds ticked by, filled with tension as they waited. Waited—for something.
Anything.
And then, just as Asterin lost hope, a pinprick of black appeared midair, spreading outward like a bleeding blot of ink.
She exhaled in a choked rush, stumbling toward the swell of darkness.
Vaguely, almost as if from another universe, she heard the sound of boots thundering up the stairs. Guards—her Elites were coming.
The portal opened and out lurched a bleeding, bedraggled, but very much alive Harry.
“Stand down!” Eadric ordered as the Elites burst through the door, weapons drawn.
Asterin ran to the anygné, supporting him as his strength left him, his legs wobbling and chin slumping to his chest. Meanwhile, her eyes darted to the portal, wondering anxiously how long Orion would take to come back through.
Panic stabbed through her when the portal began to swirl closed and O
rion had yet to reappear.
“Harry!” Asterin exclaimed, shaking him. “Where’s Orion?”
Harry’s head snapped up, eyes suddenly alert. Confused. “What?”
“Where is Orion?”
Rose came up beside them, face pale. “He followed you through the portal.”
Harry froze, his lips parting as he stared into the portal, looking … afraid.
Asterin’s blood turned to ice in her veins.
“Why didn’t you stop him?” Harry breathed.
“She tried to, Harry,” Rose said, when Asterin found herself unable to utter a single word. “She really did.”
Asterin’s tongue finally began functioning. “Can’t you … can’t you just go in and get him back?”
Harry swallowed. “No. He wasn’t in physical contact with me when I went through. Where I took Priscilla … he … he could have ended up anywhere.”
“Oh, Immortals,” Asterin whispered.
“Where did you open that portal to, Harry?” Eadric demanded.
Harry stared at them, stricken. His mouth began moving, but no sound came out. When he finally managed to speak, it was no more than a devastated rasp. “The Immortal Realm.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Days passed, but Quinlan did not wake. Both doctors and healers from all over Aspea convened in the Axarian palace, but none were able to coax him out of his coma. Eventually, a man named Doctor Ilroy arrived from Ermir at Rose’s request. Although he couldn’t rouse Quinlan, the doctor stabilized his worsening condition and erratic heartbeat. The color returned to his face soon after, and Ilroy deemed his condition stable enough for transport back to Eradoris, where he could continue treatment.
Until then, Asterin spent every moment she could at Quinlan’s bedside, her fingers entwined with his, listening to his every breath. Ilroy had also succeeded in healing the cut on Asterin’s face. The only remnant was a thin, silver scar tracing down her cheek—reminding her every time she saw her reflection of what she could have lost. Had almost lost.
She was, however, forced to abandon Quinlan’s side now and then to deal with her royal duties. With Priscilla … not so much dead, but gone, Asterin ruled as Queen of Axaria, though the title wouldn’t be official until her coronation. Eadric bombarded her with paperwork—this needed her approval, that needed her signature or her seal. She had citizens lining the halls waiting to speak with her at all hours. No matter how little sleep she had gotten, she listened carefully to each one, doing her best to address their concerns while trying to imagine what her father might have said or done in her place.
Asterin wondered how long it would take Harry to find Orion. According to the anygné, one could compare the Mortal Realm to the Immortal Realm like an apple to the Earth. She wanted nothing more than to search for Orion herself, but Eadric sternly reminded her of her obligations as queen, and Harry refused to bring any mortals into the Immortal Realm until he found a concrete lead on Orion’s location.
Thoughts of Orion and Quinlan plagued her waking hours, but sleep was worse—hounded by grisly nightmares filled with the most vile of beasts and monsters. She awoke drenched in cold sweat, her heart pounding, the moment when Orion had disappeared into the portal replaying over and over in her head—her fingers just catching his sleeve, so close. So damned close. But she always missed, and then he was gone.
Some days later, while Asterin leafed through tedious documents, there was a knock at her door. She opened it to find Harry waiting outside—the anygné had gratefully accepted her offer to stay at the palace until he had recovered from his injuries and his exhaustion from opening the portal. Wordlessly, she invited him into the sitting parlor.
Bruises circled his bloodshot eyes. He looked ravaged, worn right down to the bone. But even then, Harry being Harry, he wasted no words on pleasantries. “I thought about trying to contact some of my immortal kin for leads on Orion’s location, but … I would really rather not risk King Eoin finding out about this.” He sounded as weary as he looked. “The sooner I get to the Immortal Realm, the better.”
“Take me with you,” said Asterin.
Harry’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. The Immortal Realm is simply no place for mortals, the Shadow Kingdom even less so. And you have your duties here, as soon-to-be Queen of Axaria.” It was true—the arrangements for her ceremony were already being made. Still …
“Orion is down there,” she said, refusing to yield. “I can’t just stand by and wait for his return. It was my fault that he got away in the first place.”
“No,” Harry growled. “It wasn’t. It was his decision to follow me. He didn’t know about the consequences, and that was my fault. He must have thought that …” He hung his head. “That I wouldn’t come back.” After a moment, he shook himself and inhaled sharply. “Rose asked if I might be able to help transport Quinlan to Eradore since he’s in a delicate state right now, so I’ll depart for the Shadow Kingdom directly from Eradoris. If I can find a lead, I will see what I can do to ensure safe passage for a mortal queen, but I cannot make any promises.”
Asterin nodded. It wasn’t good enough, but it would have to do for now. “Thank you.” She bit her lip. “Will everything be all right between you and King Eoin? I mean, you did annihilate one of his clients.”
Harry sighed and got to his feet. “Don’t worry about that. It was my choice, and I’ll deal with the consequences. I’ve got a good track record, and believe it or not, Priscilla was fairly insignificant to him, anyway.” He shot her a sly grin. “Besides, he’s easily bribed. And I’m his favorite shadowling.” At her confused frown, he explained, “My immortal kin. There are three of us in total, although the oldest retired recently, just a few decades ago.”
“Recent indeed,” Asterin muttered.
“Killian came second in our little family,” he went on, making his way to the door. “She was only a child when Eoin claimed her, and they’ve never really gotten along. I was third, the youngest sibling of sorts even though I was nearly twenty when I signed my contract.” He ran a hand through his hair and scrunched his nose. “It’s dreadfully complicated.”
Asterin huffed at that, thinking of her own family. Though she tried not to show it, Priscilla’s treachery had affected her more deeply than she could have imagined possible, and she was still reeling. “I guess all families can be a little messy, can’t they?”
“I suppose so.” Harry let himself out the door, tipping his chin in parting. “Have fun finishing your paperwork.”
The following afternoon, two days before Harry and the Eradorians’ scheduled departure, Asterin was studying a list that Eadric had compiled of potential candidates to replace Garringsford as General of Axaria. She thumbed through the candidate profiles he had also helpfully provided, her legs propped up on the table in the sitting parlor. A long-stale tray of tea and sandwiches lay untouched by her feet.
There came a knock at the door, but before she could so much as set the papers down, Luna let herself in.
And for the first time in her life, Asterin could not read her best friend’s expression, now transformed into a cold mask.
Her resemblance to Priscilla nearly knocked the breath from Asterin’s lungs.
Since the battle on Fairfest Eve, Luna had thrown herself into her sculpting, making herself so scarce that the only time Asterin saw her was when she had deliberately loitered outside of the girl’s workshop. After two hours of waiting, Luna finally slipped out, stiffening as she caught sight of Asterin. Gaze averted, Luna had asked if “Her Royal Highness” required any assistance. Something leaden settled into Asterin’s gut and she had shaken her head, too stung to speak.
“Luna,” Asterin said, the list sliding from her grasp and onto the floor. She stood, pushing her legs off the table so forcefully that it scraped against the mahogany floor with an awful screech.
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��Your Highness,” Luna said once Asterin had re-collected her wits. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Yes, of course, anything,” Asterin said, fumbling with the tea tray. “Please have a seat. I’ll ring for fresh tea.”
“Don’t bother. I won’t be long.”
“Oh.” Asterin cleared her throat, her hands twisting behind her back. “Right.” Where to begin? she wondered. Apologize? What came out instead was a shaky, “What can I do for you?” She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the sudden tightness. “How … how have you been?” I miss you. “I’ve been worried about you, and—”
“I’m leaving.”
Asterin froze.
Luna pushed on. “The King of Ibreseos—my father. He’s invited me to stay at the Ibresean palace. He wrote to me yesterday. Apparently he wants to get to know me better, as well as open a gallery of my work. I just wanted to let you know where I was going.”
The room tipped sideways. Asterin’s mind whirled as she tried to steady herself, gripping the edges of the tea tray as Luna’s words sank in. “You … you can’t leave, Luna.”
“Can’t I?” Luna challenged. “You would deny me the opportunity to meet my father?”
“No, no, of course not, but—”
“I could have just left when the letter came, but—I respect our … friendship too much. And if you respect it as well, I hope that you’ll let me leave with your blessing,” Luna continued, grimacing even as she tried to conceal it by turning her face away.
“Luna, please, I know that I’ve done something terrible—to us—but let me fix it,” Asterin pleaded.
“It’s not something you can fix like a broken toy, Asterin. I just need some time away,” Luna said in a gentle voice, as if consoling a child.
The teacups on the tray began to clatter quietly. “Luna … I don’t expect you to forgive me, ever, but please know that I am so, so sorry.”