“Here,” Parsifal chirps, putting a foot out. “Let me step in.” The elf stumbles right over it and careens into the wall head-first.
The second elf rushes me, thinking me unarmed. One hand inside my belt and I’ve ripped the dagger free. I duck and sidestep, just like Harged would have done—and bury Morgaun’s dagger right where the gap between his greaves and his chestplate leave exposed silver skin.
He slides to the ground, blue blood boiling all over my hands. Thelia’s expression is surprised—and impressed.
Wild laughter streams out of the Green Demon. “They fight back!”
The elf who got her head knocked around tries to move, so Thelia stomps down on her back with one foot. Holding the wriggling body still, she grabs the fallen sword and points it at the Green Demon. “Come on. Come get me, since you want it so bad.”
He grins and pounces. Thelia swings, but he seizes the blade with one hand and bits of blue blood spatter across Parsifal’s face. Thelia flips backward—a kroga move—out of the way.
A howl of mad laughter. “Quick little critter!” he sneers. “No wonder Sapphire likes you.”
The door to Corene’s room flies open with a bang! Morgaun stumbles out, face flushed. In his hand is the small wooden box with its white wick.
“I’m ending this!” he roars. “I’m going to destroy every last one of you perverted monsters!”
Even the Green Demon is momentarily distracted. Thelia spins and kicks, delivering a blow to his abdomen. He stumbles back against the wall.
“How do you plan to light it, you rusty nail?” Parsifal asks.
Morgaun grins. “I found your note, your smokestick, and this.” He holds up the fire striker. “Your long-eared lover left it for you, but it’s mine now. Isn’t it beautiful that it will be the thing that kills them all?”
“End it!” Corene shouts behind him. “Free us from this!”
I stare at her but speak to Morgaun. “If you tap into that thread of Magic, you destroy everything. All of us. All humanity.”
The Green Demon’s getting up, and though I can’t see his face through the mask, I don’t think we’re the only ones afraid of what comes next. Morgaun looks at Corene. “Ready?”
Corene breaks eye contact with me. “Yes.”
His face contorts into a wild smile. “Perfect.” With a flick of his hand, the fire starter lights. The tiny flame surges upward, spitting and lapping at the air, fueled by Magic all around us. He lowers the machine so the flame touches the tip of the wick. Behind Thelia, the Green Demon charges.
A blaze of fire roars up into Morgaun’s face, burning his hair and skin. His screech of agony is lost in an unearthly howl as the machine ignites.
Parsifal
I turn to Thelia and her frightened black eyes find mine. I hold them like that, searching them for the part of myself I need to do what has to be done.
There. The warm heart of Magic, pulsing in my chest. It surges up, hot and full of light, when the box explodes.
Everything slows down. The flame swells like an overfull stomach, the curling tips reaching the far corners of the room. I lean down and press my hand to the stone floor. Please, Four Halls. Even my breaths are slowed. You helped us before. Help me now.
When I look up, the world is changed. Shimmering blue, white, and yellow strands—some thick, some thin; some wavy, some straight—flow through the air around me, pulsing with energy. It’s Magic, making up the fabric of everything.
And one of the threads has caught fire. Forgren’s conductor worked. In slow motion, the flame that began in Morgaun’s hand grows at lightning speed, ripping along the top of the fat thread. Magic itself is screaming—a noise like no human, or elf, would ever make. Wailing as it’s consumed. I feel it in the warm center of my chest.
And the castle answers.
The stones beneath my feet shift, like I’m standing on water. The gaps widen and lips appear. Then teeth and a tongue.
“Wider!” I demand. “Don’t you want your snack?” The mouth grins at me and suddenly, it’s as wide as Morgaun. As wide as the expanding explosion that’s already burned off half his arm. Morgaun’s horrified face contorts into an inhuman shape as the tongue wraps around his feet. It yanks him down, between two long rows of teeth—and the burst of flame that would eat the world and leave it simmering ash is swallowed up with him.
Everything speeds back up—Corene screaming. The green elf’s roar as the rippling stones throw him and his soldier backward. The mouth’s great lips closing, cutting off Morgaun’s howl of fury.
The stones slide back into place. Beneath our feet is the sound of a muffled explosion. The whole castle shakes. Smoke bursts through the gaps between stones.
And it’s gone.
Thelia
Parsifal did it. The castle ate Morgaun and whatever horrible thing he’d created. Only the window shattered. Corene drops to her knees on top of the spot where he was, running her hands over the stone like it might open back up again.
The green elf lying on the floor moans, dragging himself along the stone, clutching his gold mask.
The remaining soldier kneels down to help him up. But I’m faster, and I bury the point of the sword I’ve stolen into the slender space between her helmet and chest armor. She tumbles to the ground, and I finish it.
The green elf slithers out from under me and rushes Bayled. His gigantic cloak billowing behind him, the elf raises his sword to slice Bayled in half.
“No you don’t.” He’s exposed his bronze underarm. As far away as I am, all I can do is spin and slash as hard as I can, hoping to puncture the metal skin.
The elf roars in pain, but my sword has punctured him—and now it’s stuck. “Go!” I shout at Parsifal.
He rushes to the door, but it’s still sealed with a Magic barrier. The green-haired elf laughs at me and rips the sword from his arm, throwing it to the floor.
“Can you open it?” I shout to Parsifal.
“Oh, you mean with all those Magic powers I just used up?”
The green elf pivots to face me. I step to one side of him, and he isn’t ready to guard when I jump quickly back the other way. “You’re a much worse fighter than Sapphire,” I whisper to him and slam two fingers into his chest, in the crease right on his pectoral. He stares at me open-mouthed for a few heartbeats before his knees give out.
He won’t be down forever. Parsifal’s trying to get through the Magic barrier, so I run over to help. “I’ve got nothing,” he says.
I throw myself at the doorway with my forearm protecting my face—and crash into a barrier. “Damn it!” I pound the invisible barricade again with one fist. “Let us out!” I can’t fight off the green elf forever, and more of them will arrive soon.
“Step back.” I know that voice. I look up to find Sapphire standing on the other side, half smiling. They wave a hand, and the familiar blue crackle of Magic ripples. I stumble out into the hall. We’re free.
Bayled emerges behind me, dragging a screaming Corene. He just can’t let go, can he?
“We must move,” Sapphire says. The wisp circles them, clearly agitated. “Now.”
We trudge through the dark servants’ tunnels behind Sapphire for what feels like an eternity. We’ll take a turn, or go down some stairs, only to find more pitch-black darkness. The wisp floats on ahead, casting the walls in pink.
The hallway abruptly ends in a door. Sapphire opens it slowly and peeks out to look. “Safe.”
We emerge into a room of broken stone walls and rotting tapestries. I know this place—we’re near the dungeon. Around the next corner is the door I’ve had many nightmares about. But there’s light shining on the wall, so we all stop and go silent as we turn down the hall.
A man leans against the stones, with an overgrown mustache that I recognize immediately. “Red!” I cry. Captain Tarkness rises from her spot on the floor, covered in bruises and boils.
“About time,” she says.
“Everyone hurry,�
�� Sapphire hisses. “Now’s not the time. To the wagon.”
We move quickly to the livery, and thankfully, we don’t come across anyone. “The horses are not a frequent attraction for The People,” Sapphire says as we slip into the stable. “You’ll be happy to know, Thelia, I’ve made sure they are exercised.”
“Parlor Trick?” I rush over to the white horse hitched to the front of the wagon.
“Halrendar!” Bayled pets his own horse’s face. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Everyone in the wagon,” Sapphire says. “Now.”
Nobody speaks as we’re laid on top of each other like sausages in a dish—Parsifal next to me, Red under me. I can’t imagine anything more awkward.
“Come now, Parlor Trick,” I hear Sapphire say to the horse, and the wagon starts to move.
Sapphire
To my vast surprise, we make it out of the stable without incident. But this is only the beginning. At any moment, any of The People could stop to question us. Thankfully, they are all occupied. Soldiers rush about the wide open courtyard. A Magicker tends to her worried orkuk.
Smoke rises from South Hall, and confusion has spread through the force. Still, for now, we are ahead of the news. But we still have to stop at the front gates.
As we make our way around soldiers’ tents, I call out, “Diseased. Move aside! Diseased!” The People clear away from us, horrified as they catch sight of the bodies in the wagon. They whisper, but no one approaches.
When we finally reach the portcullis, my heart of Magic is blazing hot. Everything could end here. A squad leader approaches us but I shout, “Stop!” She freezes, and I stay near the wagon. “They are plagued.”
“Who are you?” she asks, not recognizing me without my long cloak and gold mask.
I ignore the question. “The Commander asked me to remove these bodies and destroy them. I must ensure no one comes near them or me, as I may also be infected.”
The squad leader gives a deferential nod and backs away even farther. “Bring up the gate!” She waves at the two soldiers on top of the wall. “Let them out.”
Every moment we stand there waiting is a moment someone could notice the humans in the wagon are still breathing. The gate rolls up and we are ushered through.
The horses’ hooves clack on iron-studded timbers as we cross the bridge. Then we make our way down through the Upper City without confronting a single other living thing. We will emerge from the city walls intact.
And after that? As much as I would prefer to run away with my humans, I must hasten to Viteos and tell the High Seer everything I have witnessed here. How Ellze has seized command, how the Commander deteriorates. How corruption has eaten through us.
I worry about my humans out there—Magic infused in their hair, their skin, their breaths of air—but there is nothing I can do for them now. I must trust that Parsifal and Thelia can handle themselves.
The wagon descends into the Lower City, past collapsing roofs and crumbling stone. Someone in the cart moans as it hits a pothole. Now the rolling green hills of Melidihan sprawl out before us. The Low Road, muddy with melted snow, winds up to meet the white wall of the city—and the closed iron gates.
A wagon sits on the other side. Ferah wipes her hands off on her cloak, and Zylion stands beside her. The air is full of smoke. One more load of corpses exploded.
They turn our direction when our wagon approaches. “Stand back,” I call out, walking in front of the horses. “I have diseased bodies.”
“Mahove, friend Sapphire. I will take care of it.” Ferah forms a ball of Magic in her palms. “Put the wagon there. I need a clear shot.”
“Wait,” I say. “They—”
A guffaw echoes on the stone walls behind us. I spin around to find Ellze following us down the street, blood dripping from his arm. “Ferah, this is not what you think it is.”
“Come no closer, Ellze,” I say, holding up both hands. “I could be infected, too.”
But Ellze does not stop until he is right in front of me. He grabs both sides of my face and yanks me in like I am a dog, not one of The People. “You disappoint me, Sapphire.” His eyes, which once reflected the light like emeralds, are as dull as Commander Valya’s—and filled with hatred. “This lie is bad, even for you, who has kept so many secrets poorly.”
Someone in the cart sits up. “They are reanimating!” Ferah shouts.
Ellze’s awful grin widens. “You thought you could sneak them out, Sapphire?” Everyone in the cart is wriggling and gasping for air.
“I had to try.” I clench my fist over the hilt of my sword. “Before you could finish poisoning the Magic well, kill off the Commander, and blow the castle to pieces.”
Ferah steps between us, one hand raised. “If the humans are sick, we should destroy them quickly.”
I cannot waste time—the longer we are delayed, the sooner reinforcements arrive. I rip my sword out of its sheath and leap at Ellze.
“Sapphire!” Zylion shouts, horrified.
Ellze just sidesteps me and laughs again. “The Commander did not bring you because you were a good fighter.”
“At least I can fight,” I say. “You only became a Jaguar because you asked your uncle for a favor.” While everyone focuses on me, Thelia has climbed out of the wagon, Bayled close on her heels. When Ellze spins around to slash at me, Thelia raises a sword and charges him.
Zylion steps in her way, parrying the blow. She roars at him and begins to hack with furious speed.
When he sees her, Ellze bursts out laughing again. “You,” he growls in Thelia’s language, sneering. “Who gave me this nice wound.” He pats the big gash in his arm.
“I’ll give you another one!” Thelia kicks Zylion in the stomach, sending him off-balance.
“Come get me.” Ellze raises his sword. “I can take you both at once.”
I swing at him to distract him from Thelia. “Don’t worry, Ellze,” Ferah says. “I will deal with the human.” She raises her hands, and the ball of Magic in her palms swells.
“Thelia!” I shout.
But the Prince is there. He shoves Thelia out of the way as a ball of blue Magic sails past them. It hits the ground right behind the wagon, making the horses rear up in fear—and Parlor Trick’s yoke snaps in half. She leaps away, throwing her head.
“Get out of here!” I shout at the humans still in the cart. The Baron, who seems to understand they are far outmatched, climbs into the driver’s seat and seizes the remaining horse’s reins. In the corner of my eye, Ferah prepares another projectile—and aims for the wagon.
“Kill them!” Ellze commands gleefully. “Sapphire will hate it.”
Thelia goes for Ferah, sliding across the ground and knocking her legs out from under her. But I have been distracted too long—Ellze stumbles toward me, swinging his sword.
The blade entering me hurts worse than anything I’ve ever felt. I look down to find it buried in my hip, a dribble of blue blood seeping out. I jerk backward to free myself and blood sprays across Ellze’s neck and face. He licks it off his lips, his face overtaken by a feral smile.
“You’ve become a monster.” I raise my sword once more and step toward him, but pain lances through my right leg. I stumble forward.
“Me, old friend?” Ellze asks. “I think the monster is you.” He towers over me where I kneel on the ground and raises his sword over his head.
Thelia
I’ll be no match against the Magic user if she has time to summon another Magic projectile—so I can’t give her time. Before either of us can get up off the ground, I slam my elbow into the side of her head. She squawks and falls back, giving me the chance to get on my feet again.
She needs distance and space to use Magic, so when she swipes at me, I step closer and lift my sword high up over my head. She’s wearing no armor—only robes—so my elven blade sinks easily into the flesh at her throat, and she topples forward into the mud.
When I get to my feet again, Sapphire is cr
ouched on the ground, bleeding. The green elf stands over them, sword raised, ready to murder the love of my life. Well, one of them.
I’m too far away to slug him, so I swing at his sword with mine, hoping to set him off-course just enough. It works—and we’re both sent careening into the mud. I get up first, my reflexes still honed despite weeks of captivity.
“Thelia!” Bayled shouts. “Behind you!”
I spin as a blur of purple and bronze blazes toward me. I bring my sword up just in time to block the elf, but the force of it knocks the sword right out of my hand. I stumble back, blinded by a flash of steel. Surely, this is my end.
CLANG! Instead, the purple elf’s sword collides with another blade. It’s Bayled, barely parrying him with Morgaun’s dagger. “Don’t look,” Bayled says as he dodges another strike.
So I turn around and look.
Behind the city gate come one-headed bears. Raptors. Lions. Soldiers. All streaming down the main street, straight toward us. We only have moments left before they’re on top of us.
The green elf is back on his feet. He cackles wildly as his eyes dart to Sapphire, still on the ground, and back to me. Come at me, I will him, but he knows that’s exactly what I want.
He charges with the point of his blade at Sapphire instead.
I square my shoulder like I did on those stairs ages ago, the first time I laid my eyes on Sapphire’s beautiful face—and I lunge. With the entire force of my body, I hurl myself into the green elf. The impact of his armor knocks the wind out of me, and we go down together—me on top of him. And the point of his blade plunges deep into my belly.
A surge of agony rips through me, toes to head. Sapphire screams, “Thelia!”
The green elf shoves me off him, into the mud. But I’m not finished. That’s what Mother always said: You’re not finished until you’re dead. While he struggles to get up, his sword still buried in my flesh and his feet slipping in the mud, I raise myself up just enough that I’m level with his stomach. When I smile, his face twists in confusion.
Castle of Lies Page 27