But Petra and Tristan were staring at each other. At last, Tristan broke the silence. “Do you have any idea of my role in the Sire of Souls’ court?”
I raised my hand. “I’d like to know that actually.”
Petra began to tremble slightly. She held her hands up, palms forward. “I can explain.”
“You shouldn’t have summoned me with Viktor’s totem. She’s clearly not ready.” Tristan sighed and turned to me. “First things first. You must want answers, Elea.”
“Yes.” Finally.
“I’m not dead. And I’m not a ghost.”
“Guess what? I figured that out already. You’re a godling of the Sire’s court, and you tricked me into getting a curse.”
“Please understand,” said Tristan. “Despite the mistakes” —here Tristan glared at Petra— “everything can still go to plan.”
I folded my arms over my chest. What I wouldn’t give to cast a bone melter spell right now. “There’s a plan?”
Tristan gave me a sly smile. “Someone always has a plan.”
Sly smiles. How did I ever let that work on me?
“Let me make one thing clear,” I said. “I can’t cast spells, but I can slam these manacles right into your throat. Stop playing around.”
Petra stepped between us. “Consider this, Elea. I have Seers now. I know everything. You have a special role for our people. Look at Tristan. He’s a godling from the court of the Sire of Souls. And he cares about you and our work here. Isn’t that exciting? Doesn’t that change your mind?”
“It’s doesn’t, and I loathe you both.” I started toward the door, but Petra stepped into my path. She raised her hand high, and I noticed she had a new set of totem rings on all her fingers.
Escape wasn’t going to be easy.
“I’ll be fully honest with you,” said Petra.
“I’m listening.”
“According to the Seers, the problem is Rowan.” She lifted her chin again, and the movement was starting to annoy me. “You will accept your destiny once Genesis Rex is killed. They’ve confirmed this.”
My throat tightened with dread. “So that’s another reason why you and Zoriah are working together. You both want Rowan dead.”
Tristan started talking to Petra like I wasn’t there. “The mortal’s death might work; it might not. Seeing is not an exact art. Still, this Genesis Rex won’t last much longer. We’ll know the outcome soon enough.”
Worry bit into my temples. I’d forgotten that Rowan’s battle was due to begin this morning. “Has the fight with Shujaa started?”
Tristan nodded. “It began a few minutes ago.” He reached into his long coat and pulled out a small polished stone. “This is a scrying stone. It will show you how it ends.”
“Good.” I marched over to Tristan and held my hand out in a gesture that said, Place that right here.
Tristan started to set the stone on my palm, but paused. “Once this infatuation with Rowan is over, I humbly beg you to summon me once more. I’ll return and explain everything. You can be Tsarina, or you can cross over to the other side with me. Whatever you want.”
I couldn’t help but notice these were the same two choices that Petra gave me. “And what about staying here as a magick user?”
Tristan’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not ideal, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“And if I want a life with Rowan?”
“He’s not an option at all.” Tristan’s face hardened with something close to rage. “I had no idea that things between you had gone so far, but then, we can’t see everything from the other side.”
I scooped the stone from him and raised my wrists once more. “Take these off and let’s talk right now.”
“How I wish I could.” Tristan stepped toward the gateway, stopped, and then turned back to face me once more. “I know you. You’ll need to see firsthand that this is over before you can move on.”
I gripped the stone so hard, my knuckles turned white. “Everyone seems to have plenty of ideas about my life.”
Tristan shook his head sadly. “Just summon me again when it’s over.” He stepped through the new door-hole in the wall. Once Tristan was out of view, the wall sealed over again like nothing had happened.
Petra sped to my side. “Isn’t it exciting? That was a godling, right here, in my Cloister.” Her eyes glittered with excitement before she schooled her features again. “You should be honored you were given such a gift over hybrid magick.”
“You’ve mentioned that before.” I wanted to toss my new scry stone at her head. Instead, I sat back down on my cot and inspected Tristan’s gift. It was a small flat rock the size of my palm. The stone’s surface was covered in carving of Necromancer runes. As I stared at the surface, the lines expanded and rearranged themselves until I could see the image of Rowan and Kade. Both were in battle leathers. Kade was gripping a short sword in each hand. Rowan’s right arm was raised as he prepared to cast a spell. My breath caught. The battle had indeed begun.
Next, Shujaa and Wren appeared on the surface of the stone. Rowan was still casting his spell, which meant he was vulnerable. Shujaa was brandishing a long sword while Wren held massive stingers in her fists. They were both heading toward Rowan.
I clenched the stone so tightly, I almost expected it to crack.
Not Rowan, please.
My wish was answered in the most horrible way possible. At the last second, Shujaa and Wren turned away from Rowan and descended on Kade. Wren jammed her stinger-daggers into his shoulders. Shujaa thrust his long sword into Kade’s side. Rowan’s hand became encircled with tendrils of mist as he released his spell.
After that, all images from the stone disappeared.
I tapped the scrying stone, held it up to my eye, and even shook it a few times. There was nothing.
Petra sat down beside me on the bed. “He’s dead then.” Her voice was carefully gentle. “Are you ready to discuss your role as Tsarina? That’s what I want.” She gestured to the door. “It’s what all the Necromancers want.”
I clenched the scrying stone to my chest. Petra’s words whirled through my mind.
“That’s what I want.”
A realization crept across my consciousness. For so long, I’d heard one version after another of that phrase.
Petra wants.
Tristan wants.
Philippe wants.
Even Zoriah wants.
Yet, there was only one person who has always asked me what I want. That was Rowan. And it seemed, he’d endured a lot of pain to give me that choice. And now, he was fighting Shujaa and Wren alone.
I had to help him. Now.
The glitter of the metal spikes caught my eye. An idea formed. Enchanted manacles were made with hybrid magick. So were the spikes that opened the gateway to the Eternal Lands. Could I somehow harness power from one to destroy the other?
It was the best chance I had.
Only, I couldn’t play around with spikes and manacles with Petra sitting beside me. Fortunately, my Mother Superior was a true Necromancer. We had our rituals for the dead, and I could only hope she hadn’t gone so crazy she wouldn’t honor them.
Petra patted my hand. It was an awkward tap, as Necromancers never touched. For years after I joined the Zelle, I craved any kind of touch or physical affection. Now, the feeling of Petra’s papery skin against mine made me ill.
“It’s over,” I said in a low voice. “I hereby request a minute for the Sire.” This was an old ritual where the person closest to the deceased spent a minute alone with the dead body. Everyone had to leave the room. It was one of our oldest traditions.
“But there’s no body,” said Petra.
“I have the scrying stone. In cases where the body cannot be found, it is allowed for the primary mourner to use an item from the deceased.”
“We should summon Tristan first.”
“That breaks tradition.”
Petra pointed at the wall. “But he said for you to summon hi
m right away.”
“One minute for the Sire. That’s all I ask of you.” I made sure to sniffle loudly. “I’m sure it will help me accept this loss gracefully.”
Petra nodded toward the heavy wooden door. “I’ll stand right outside, if you need me.”
I could have danced for joy. “Thank you.”
Petra stood. “A single minute, not a second more.”
“I ask nothing more than what tradition demands.”
“As is just and right.” At last, Petra stepped away and closed the massive wooden door behind her. That meant I had a minute to figure out how to break these manacles. My plan simply had to work. Shujaa was winning the battle. Without my help, I knew one thing for certain.
Rowan was good as dead.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Before me, the heavy wooden door slammed shut with a spine-rattling thud. I exhaled a long breath.
Petra was gone.
Once more, I sat alone in my prison cell. Lines of frost crisscrossed the dark stone walls. My small wooden cot creaked as I shifted my weight. The stump of a candle flickered on a nearby table, its flame whipping about while it struggled to stay alight.
One minute.
Petra promised to give me that long to mourn the supposed death of Rowan. Much as I wanted to obsess over all that had just happened with the gateway and Tristan, I had far more pressing worries.
Like Rowan and Kade.
I rushed over to the back wall and pulled at one of the metal spikes. The thing wouldn’t budge. Normally, I’d simply pull some Necromancer power into my arm, gain magickal energy, and yank the thing out. But the manacles made that impossible.
So, I did the next best thing. The spike stood out about six inches from the wall. I jammed the spike between my left wrist and the manacle. It was a tight fit, but possible. Both the manacle and the spike were filled with magick. Whichever totem was more powerful would shatter the other.
Once I was certain the spike was well inside the loop of manacle, I pulled with all my strength. A long crack sounded as the spike tore through the metal manacle like it was paper.
Thank the gods. Maybe they were on my side, after all.
“Elea? Are you all right?”
I didn’t answer. I jammed the same spike between my right wrist and the manacle that encircled it. Once again, the spike tore through the loop of metal.
I was free.
The door slammed open. Petra stood at the threshold, her face pale. “What are you doing?”
I glared at her. “Leaving.”
Petra raised her left hand. Blue light blazed from all her totem rings. “Stop this nonsense. Don’t you see my totems? You’re not enough of a Necromancer to win against them.”
My stomach sank. She was right.
All of a sudden, Rowan’s advice came back to be. “Physical force can be more powerful than magick.”
“No, Petra. I’m not a strong enough mage.”
But I may be a powerful enough woman.
Leaping forward, I grabbed Petra’s shoulder and pinched hard, right on the spot where Rowan had taught me. She collapsed onto the floor.
By the gods. I knocked her out.
My little prison cell took on a surreal haze. At this moment, my old Mother Superior lay curled up on the floor. This was the woman I’d trusted for five long years.
My movements felt dreamlike as I scooped up Petra, set her on my cot, and carefully checked her breathing. She’d wake up again and soon.
That meant I needed to quickly cast some additional spells. I’d pull Petra’s totem rings off her fingers, but without knowing what was loaded on them, I couldn’t activate the magick. And casting a detector spell on each ring? That would take up too much time.
It was down to me.
Closing my eyes, I pulled in fresh Necromancer magick. Energy careened through me; I stifled a gasp. After the manacles had blocked me, it felt amazing to have magick wind through every corner of my body. I drove it into my left hand. The skin on my arm chilled over; the bones there rapidly glowed blue. The strength of the spell became so potent, the temperature in the entire room dropped. My breath appeared in puffs of white as I began casting a series of spells.
First, I placed sleeper spell on Petra. I didn’t need her waking up any time soon.
Second, I set a ward against further visitors to this prison cell. It would last for at least a few hours. In other words, this way I wouldn’t have anyone else waking up Petra, either.
All in all, I’d bought myself some time. There were many more protections and spells that would help, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Hopefully, a few hours would be enough for my needs.
Finally, I began the incantation for my transport spell.
“Magick is the tie that binds
The hunter that tracks
The child that follows
Now send me back”
With any luck, this spell would make me appear right beside Rowan. I’d have used it before, but Petra had been so obliging with her transport rings. What a disaster that had turned out to be. I crossed my fingers.
Please, let it work now.
Wisps of blue smoke wound around my left arm. Icy bolts of power darted through my chest. I hissed in a pained breath. The sapphire-colored haze poured off my fingertips and onto the floor.
My transport spell had begun.
The magickal haze whirled up my body. Blue smoke clouded my vision. After that came nothing but bone-crunching pain. Agony pressed in as magick transported me to Nyumbani.
The next thing I knew, the blue haze disappeared. Pain vanished. I found myself standing on the lip of red mud overlooking the Genesis Vale. Once again, Casters packed the space between the jungle and the vale below. They were dancing and cheering in the rain.
This wasn’t a battle scene. It was yet another Caster celebration. Where was Rowan? Had something gone wrong with my transport spell?
Someone gripped my wrist from behind. I spun about to find Jicho. My pulse sped.
Dropping to my knees, I met his gaze straight on. “Where is Rowan?”
A boom of thunder sounded. Jicho didn’t flinch as raindrops streamed down his smiling face. “I knew you would make it.” His gaze dropped to the scrying stone in my hand. “Where did you get that?”
I stared at the stone and shrugged. Through everything, I’d still held on to my only connection to Rowan. I handed the disc-like stone over to Jicho. “Someone gave it to me.”
Jicho turned it over. “I never thought I’d see one of these.”
My voice lowered with desperation. “Please. I need to find Rowan.”
Jicho bounced on the balls of his feet. “That’s why I’m here. Shujaa cheated. Someone hid extra supplies for him in the jungle to help him.”
“Was it Zoriah?”
Jicho nodded. “We can’t stop the fight just because Shujaa cheated, but then Kade got hurt. Shujaa stabbed him.”
“You said he’s hurt…Is Kade’s alive?”
“Yes, he’s with the healers.”
A spark of joy lit in my heart. “Oh, thank the Sire.”
“And since Shujaa cheated, Kade has named you as his replacement to be Rowan’s second. Kade even gave me the incantation to give you so you can join the fight. Isn’t that great?”
I’d never felt more relieved in my life. “Where’s the battle?”
Jicho pointed to the Genesis Vale. “There.”
I must have misunderstood. “The jungle?”
“That’s where all our official battles take place.” He nodded toward the three pillars. “That’s why Rowan built the throne and pyre here. Whoever wins, they take the throne back to the Genesis Hall and get crowned.”
I rubbed my neck as I tried to process this information. In the scrying stone, I’d only seen people, not their surroundings. I’d just assumed there was some kind of neat and formal battlefield.
Then again, knowing Nyumbani, the jungle made sense.
“How do
I enter the vale?” I asked.
“There’s a line of white stones by the lip of the crevasse,” said Jicho. “They keep everyone out except the combatants and their seconds. The stones are hard to see in the rain and mud, but they stop people from breaking into the battle. You just say the incantation to make yourself the second, and then you can join the fight.” Jicho had a boy’s excitement for all of this.
I gave him a wobbly smile. “I’ll transport over.”
Jicho frowned. “No transporting in the Genesis Vale. Not until the battle is over.”
“Fine. I’ll figure out something else. What’s the incantation?”
“Speak these six words: my first, my captain, my one.”
“That’s it?” Caster incantations were too short to be believed.
Jicho nodded. “Only, I can’t see if you two win or not…You know…In case you were wondering.”
“That’s fine, Jicho. Rowan and I only need a chance. Thank you.”
With that, I rushed over to the edge of the crevasse. The Genesis Vale loomed below me. It was an impossible labyrinth of jungle. Rowan was down there somewhere.
No question about it. I would find him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I kicked the ground near the lip of the crevasse. Rain pelted me from every direction. Sure enough, a line of white stones lay under the mud. Each one was about the size of a robin’s egg. I pulled some Necromancer magick into my body so I could cast right away.
A few Casters bumped into me as they danced on by. They must have been celebrating all night. Everyone was so drunk, no one seemed to notice I was back wearing my Necromancer robes. It was probably for the best. I had enough to worry about without answering a lot of questions.
Closing my eyes, I spoke the words Jicho had given me.
“My first, my captain, my one.”
Straightening my shoulders, I stepped forward and crossed the line of stones. I exhaled. The spell worked.
Now it was time to fight.
Raising my left arm, I focused the Necromancer magick that I’d pulled into my body before. Sure, I couldn’t use a transport spell to reach Rowan, but I knew the perfect alternative. Power built up in my left arm until my bones vibrated with energy. My hand glowed a searing shade of blue as I spoke my incantation.
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