by K. A. Linde
“Barca,” she whispered.
“I won’t hear of it.” He put his hand on the small of her back. “You run out of here and get back to the camp. Tell them what old Barca did.”
“I can’t let you stay behind. Your works. The decades of work,” she bemoaned.
“None of that compares to you.” He fondly touched her cheek. “You’re like a daughter to me, Rhea. The little girl I never had the time for. The one I wish I would have made time for. I won’t let you do the same.”
“It’s what I want to do.”
Barca shrugged. “Tough. You don’t always get what you want.” He began to push her toward the exit. “You’ll need a head start to get off the castle grounds. Hurry along.”
Rhea sighed. Then she nodded her head. It was clear that she wasn’t going to be able to argue with him. This was what he thought was best. “All right.”
“Good girl.”
Rhea followed him toward the exit of the chamber they had been working in. The castle had emptied over the last couple of days. Kael had evacuated most nonessential personnel to a more secure location. And she and Barca had rounded up the rest to herd them out of the castle. This wasn’t about killing innocent lives. It was about destroying a symbol of the corruption within Byern. A start of a new era for the people. Something she could do for them that would end this terrible reign.
She and Barca stepped out into the empty hallway. It was a little eerie how silent it was. She had gotten used to the constant chatter and patter of feet. The endless people milling around, none the wiser that she had been sneaking around the castle.
Now, there was no one.
Barca turned to face her once more. Tears glistened in his eyes.
“Don’t go soft on me now,” she joked.
“You were born for greatness,” he told her.
He put his skinny arms around her and pulled her in close. Barca had never hugged her. He wasn’t a very physical person to begin with. But this…this was different.
She found that she couldn’t get words past her throat. She was choked up. Unable to believe that they’d gotten to this moment.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” she breathed. “I love you so much that I can’t let you do this.”
“Rhea,” he began.
But already, she had released him and dashed for the open doorway to a room with only one door in or out. Barca cried out, trying to catch her. But he was much older than her and less agile.
She threw the door closed and barred it from the inside. She could just barely hear him banging on it, yelling her name.
Tears finally came to her eyes.
She would miss him.
And Cyrene.
And so many others.
But she had to do this.
The world needed Caro Barca.
Rhea had lost so much. She wouldn’t let him sacrifice himself, too.
She walked to the long fuse and reached for the fire starter. She prayed Barca got out in time. Then she struck the match and set it to the fuse.
Byern would finally pay for all it had done to the world. And to her.
73
The Finale
“Sarielle, hurry up! The castle is coming down!” Cyrene yelled.
I am near. What do you mean, the castle is coming down?
“Exactly what I said. And, if you don’t show up, we’ll die.” Cyrene whirled on the rest of the party. “To the terrace edge. We have to evacuate now. Dean, are you okay with Avoca?”
“Yes,” he said, jogging to the edge of the balcony with her in his arms.
Cyrene went over to Kael and wrapped an arm around his waist. She slung his uninjured arm over her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
He hobbled forward despite the immense amount of pain he must be in. But he was a survivor, just like her. He wouldn’t let a shoulder injury stop him.
“Is she going to make it?” Kael asked.
The rumbling was getting louder. Suddenly, they heard pop, pop, pop. As if explosions were going off beneath their feet.
Cyrene’s eyes widened in alarm. “She’d better.”
Vera was at their side in an instant. “There she is.”
Sarielle pulled in close and looked uncomfortably at the five people on the balcony.
“Can you carry us all?” Cyrene asked.
Sarielle counted them all again with her eyes. We’ll make do. Hurry.
It was a race against time as they helped Avoca and Kael onto Sarielle’s back. Halcyon and Ameerath were still too far away to make it to them in time. Dean boosted himself up next as the terrace began to splinter. He helped Vera up onto Sarielle’s back and then reached for Cyrene.
The terrace began to crumble beneath her feet. Suddenly, she was just standing on air. Then she was falling. She dug deep into her depleted magic and pushed herself forward on air. Reaching, reaching, reaching for Dean’s hand.
But she didn’t have enough magic to sustain her flight. Even hovering took immense concentration and magic. And she was officially out.
She screamed as her body plummeted.
She was weightless. Her stomach in her throat. Terror stretching into long seconds as she disappeared beneath the balcony. Her body moving at lightning speeds, being dragged down toward the ground below.
At least she had ended it.
Stopped Malysa.
Tricked her at her own game.
And now, the world could continue without her influence.
Then Cyrene saw a large shape shooting toward her.
But it was too far away.
It would never make it in time.
Not before she splattered onto the stone below.
Yet this dragon was moving at speeds Cyrene had never witnessed. Or perhaps she just hadn’t seen it in so long. The dragon had been made for speed, made to catch flying objects out of the sky.
Just as Cyrene had done with Avoca on Tavry’s back.
The purple dragon reached one clawed paw toward her. Cyrene stretched out, holding out her hand as far as she could. Hoping against all hope.
Then Tavry plucked her out of the sky.
Cyrene’s arm ripped out of its socket, and she screamed again in pain.
But Tavry had stopped Cyrene’s fall.
She hadn’t died.
Tavry looped back upward, veering away from the castle. Suddenly, a small hand was reaching down toward her.
“Cyrene! Give me your other hand.”
She glanced up to see none other than Kerrigan Argon staring back at her. Cyrene painfully swung back and forth a few times before throwing her hand up. Kerrigan caught it within hers and heaved her up onto Tavry’s back.
“Hello, Cyrene,” Helly said from the front of the dragon.
“Hi. Nice save,” she said. She patted Tavry. “Nice flying.”
I fly with the speed of the wind. Nothing is beyond my reach.
“I’m glad for that,” Cyrene said, cradling her arm against her chest.
Tavry circled high, coming in close to Sarielle. And they watched as the Nit Decus castle came down. Explosions happened over and over, all over the place. Stone by stone, the entire thing collapsed in on itself. Until it lay in a heap with only sections of the once great castle still standing in ruin. The inside had caught flame. A fire that Cyrene guessed would last a long, long time.
And strangely, she felt a great sense of relief.
This had been the seat of power for the world for so long. Byern had guided all of Emporia from its high seat first as the Doma court and then the Dremylons. The Nit Decus castle had seen so many atrocities. It had delivered so much vengeance. So much death.
It was only fitting that, on the day it had all ended, the castle came down with it. Time to start fresh. Not painting over the old and hoping the paint didn’t chip and show the ugliness through. But a real new beginning.
And then something happened on the ground.
Malysa’s forces threw dow
n their arms.
They got to their knees with their hands up.
They were surrendering.
All of the soldiers that she had assembled were surrendering to Cyrene’s army. They had seen the castle come down and the dragons take down the Voldere. They knew what that meant for their fight. It was over.
“Let’s head back to camp,” Cyrene said.
Tavry circled once more before swinging back around. They flew to the campsite, landing easily next to the portal Cyrene had created.
Cyrene slid uneasily off of Tavry’s back. “Thank you again,” she said, touching her with her uninjured arm.
It is always good to assist you, Cyrene of the Doma.
Cyrene smiled and then waited for Helly and Kerrigan to jump down. Cyrene threw one arm around Helly in a hug right away. “It is so good to see you.”
Helly laughed. “You too, Cyrene. Let me look at that shoulder.”
“It’s fine. It will fix itself.”
“You have depleted your reserves. At least let me reset it.”
“There are more important concerns.”
Kerrigan stepped up without comment, braced Cyrene’s arm, and then knocked it back into place. She gasped as the bones realigned and shot a watery look at Kerrigan.
“Thanks.”
“Action seemed better than arguing,” Kerrigan said with a shrug.
Cyrene nodded before turning back to Helly. “I need you to heal Avoca.”
Helly raised an eyebrow. “Again? What is wrong with her?”
Sarielle landed next to Tavry, shooting the other dragon a flirtatious look. Then, Dean helped Avoca down from her back. He carried her to Helly since she was still passed out. Cyrene lifted her blackened arm. She could see that the black had risen all the way to her elbow. It looked dead and useless everywhere the black touched.
“The dark goddess hit her with some kind of physical darkness. Avoca used her knives to deflect the blow, and it dyed them.” She showed Helly the knives that were now black as night. “It looks like it hit her arm and is spreading. Can you save her?”
Helly blanched. “This is…horrible. I’ve never seen this before. Do I have somewhere to work?”
“Take Lady Hellina to the healers tent right away,” Cyrene barked at the closest page. “Use anything you need.”
Helly nodded, but she was already in healer mode. And, from her expression, it wasn’t looking good. Helly followed Dean and Avoca away to the healers tents, and Cyrene prayed to anyone who would listen that Helly could fix her. Because, if Helly couldn’t do it, then no one could. She was the best healer in the entire world. She had to be able to do it.
Cyrene bit her lip and then realized Kael Dremylon had managed to get off of Sarielle. He looked weak from blood loss. He could barely stay on his feet.
“We need to get you to a healer, too,” Cyrene said.
“If anyone finds out that I’m here, they’ll kill me,” he got out through gritted teeth.
Cyrene knew he was right. “Not on my watch.” She looked to Kerrigan, who was already taller than Cyrene. “Your cloak. Quick.”
Kerrigan handed it over without comment, and Cyrene slung it around his shoulders. She nodded once at Vera, who stepped up to his side. Kerrigan shouldered the other side.
“You’re injured,” Kerrigan said baldly. “Now, lead the way.”
Cyrene didn’t argue. She just escorted him like the criminal that he was, away from the portal and any prying eyes. She deposited him in her own tent. Since she didn’t have anywhere else to put a prisoner. They hadn’t planned on taking anyone prisoner. Cyrene didn’t even have enough energy left to make a shield. Not that he could go anywhere in his condition.
Kael promptly collapsed backward on the cot.
Vera moved in to look at his shoulder. “I think I can do something about this here. Kerrigan, I need you to hold down his chest. Cyrene, get his legs.”
Vera cut away his shirt, revealing the toned body beneath. His shoulder was a mess, covered in blood and oozing black darkness. As if whatever Malysa had been throwing around up there had seeped into him.
Kerrigan threw her body over his, and he groaned. Cyrene winced as she put pressure on his legs. Her arm was decidedly not okay, but she held down his legs regardless. Vera poured water over the wound. He screamed bloody murder as the water washed clean what had been contaminating him. Then she used her magic to draw out the darkness lurking beneath. The infestation that had kept him weak and tried to find a way back inside of him. It came out in an inky-black stream. She withdrew until the wound only bled red. Then she dropped it back into a basin nearby, where it writhed as if it were alive. She contained it with her magic but looked uncertainly at it.
Vera wiped her brow and then knit the tissue back together. The bleeding slowed and then stopped. She sighed when Kael finally passed out. “That will have to do. I’m no healer, but ordinary wounds are much easier than magical ones. He will need a lot of rest to recover his strength.” She glanced up at Cyrene. “Are you certain that you want to give him that option?”
Cyrene nodded. “He deserves to stand trial for his crimes. I will not be judge, jury, and executioner for the king of Byern.”
Vera smiled softly. “I understand.”
“Can you put up a shield to contain him?”
Vera nodded without question, effortlessly erecting a shimmery shield that popped into place, and then reached for the basin. “I will dispose of this. Wouldn’t want it to get in the wrong hands.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“No, Cyrene,” Vera said warmly. “Thank you.”
She disappeared through the tent flap just as a cheer rose up outside. Cyrene and Kerrigan darted back outside and saw that the entire army was raising their voices in triumph. Whistling and clapping and screaming their victory.
Cyrene laughed. And then she raised her own voice, jumping up and down and twirling in a circle. Kerrigan danced with her, taking part in the merriment and the end of the war. A hard-won victory. With so much death and destruction. And yet, they had won out in the end.
They both stopped when they were exhausted. Cyrene leaned forward and panted, protectively cradling her arm. Kerrigan just grinned at her.
“So, Domina, what are you going to do now?”
Cyrene stared off into the distance. “Sleep. Lots of sleep.”
Kerrigan snorted. “No, really?”
“We’re going to start over,” she told her seriously. “We lost a lot of lives on both sides. Unnecessary death because of one person. The world will never be the same. But we can rebuild and try to create a better world in the process.” She looked back to Kerrigan. “That’s what I want to do. I want to build a better world.”
74
The Recovery
Cyrene stood outside of Avoca’s healing room and paced. And paced some more. She knew that there was so much more that she needed to be doing. But her head wasn’t in it. She couldn’t focus until she knew what had happened with Avoca.
“She’s going to be okay,” Dean said, putting a hand on her arm to try to get her to stop.
“Maybe,” Cyrene muttered. “Maybe I should go help somewhere.”
He shook his head. “The generals have it covered. Maybe you should get some rest.”
“Can’t rest. Can’t close my eyes.”
So, he just let her pace. Keeping an eye on her all the while. Surely seeing all the signs of exhaustion she was exhibiting. But she didn’t leave Avoca’s tent.
“Cyrene!” a voice carried over the tents.
She turned and saw Ahlvie barreling toward her in nothing but a pair of torn pants. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt or boots. And he looked frantic.
“Ahlvie, you’re alive!” She threw her arms around him and held him tight. “I was so worried. I haven’t heard any reports about who has made it.”
“I made it,” he confirmed. “How is she? I just got off the front line after the surrender and heard she w
as with a healer.”
“No one has come out. Malysa hit her with some kind of darkness. It broke the bond and blackened her arm up to her elbow. But Helly went in there with her.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Creator we have Helly. She’s the best. If anyone can help, it’s Helly.”
Cyrene nodded. But she was still worried. Helly hadn’t looked confident when she rushed off with Avoca. And it’d been hours since Cyrene heard anything.
“Cyrene, I have to tell you something.”
Cyrene braced for the worst, but that was the moment the flap finally opened, and Helly appeared.
“How is she?” Ahlvie asked at the same time Cyrene said, “Can we see her?”
Helly held up her hand. “She’s stable now, but she needs her rest. I was able to stop the spread of the darkness. It’s been contained to her arm, but she will have to live with it that way. I did all that I could, but I have never seen anything like this. It’s not an illness of any sort. Whatever the goddess did to her is beyond my expertise.”
Cyrene grasped her hands. “Thank you. You did so much more than we would have been able to.”
“Thank you.” Ahlvie tugged Helly into a hug. She laughed and patted his back.
“Go on inside. She needs to sleep, but she’s been asking for you both. Try not to overwhelm her.”
They both agreed and then hurried with Dean past Helly to where Avoca lay across a cot. Her left arm was visible to the shoulder where her leathers had been cut off of her. The arm was as black as the night sky to the elbow. The area from the elbow nearly to the shoulder was a blur of black, as if shading into daylight. Not quite as dark as the lower part of the arm, but not as creamy white as her fair skin had once been.
“Hey, Ava,” Cyrene said as she stepped up to her side.
“It’s good to see you awake again,” Dean said from the other side.
“Love,” Ahlvie said, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. He knelt before her and gently took her ruined left arm in his hand. “You still look beautiful to me.”
She laughed softly and then coughed as if that hurt too bad. “Thank you for that. I don’t particularly feel beautiful.” She looked down at her ruined arm. “Helly said it would be like this forever.”