by S. M. Boyce
Lady Spry had assured them that the witches and wizards could magic the rubble together again, but it still stung to destroy something so beautiful.
Audrey gripped her Atlantean crystal, balancing it in the hand that held the golem’s ear for balance, and aimed at the mercenaries surging around the golem’s feet. Several ogres rammed into its ankles, trying to knock it over.
Not today.
With the full strength of her Atlantean power, Audrey cast a thick bolt of white energy at the golem’s feet. Screams followed, and several ogres in Luak’s black military garb fell flat on their backs.
Heart thumping, adrenaline racing, Audrey steeled herself for the battle. This would not be easy, but not a single person in Victoria’s army would surrender.
Their choices were win or die, and Audrey planned on winning.
***
In the castle’s defense room, Regina Spry cast spells left and right in an effort to stay on top of the utter chaos within the palace walls.
“A gaggle of roughly sixty elves are battering the east exit with their magic,” the palace said calmly.
“How long can you hold them off?”
“My dear, nothing can stop me. The enchantments on my walls will keep them at bay.”
She nodded, grateful the castle knew its own power so well. She had mended it from time to time, sure, but she didn’t know its abilities as intimately as the king would have. “Route them south.”
“I will send them through the endless tunnel. They’ll run forever, thinking they’re almost there the entire time.”
“Good, good,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow as she studied the next glimmering portal that popped into existence before her. At least forty ogres barreled into a broad set of double doors, the only ones separating them from the madness outside.
The palace chuckled. “I have seventeen sets of doors down that hall. Every time they destroy one, another will appear. Those ogres will never break through.”
Regina sighed with relief. “You truly are impressive, Castle Fairhaven.”
“That I am, Lady Spry.”
“How many have we contained within the castle?”
“Twelve hundred are trapped in various enchanted tunnels and by doors. Another six hundred are trying to get out through other exits, but I’ll head them off. Roughly a thousand escaped into the streets.”
“The rebels outside are still outnumbered,” she said, grimacing.
“Oh, what do we have here?” A portal appeared before her of the royal balcony, where Luak stood with a drawn sword and circled Victoria.
“It seems we have the beginning of the end,” Regina said softly, more to herself than to answer the castle’s question.
The castle chuckled. “My dear, I always thought I had too much of a flair for the dramatic, but you put me to shame.”
Regina shook her head, the tip of her wand glowing as she zoomed in on the fight between Victoria and Luak. “We have to help her.”
“Considering where they are, I can’t do much. Not many defenses were set up in that area. A poisoned arrow here, an enchanted saw there. Nothing Luak can’t overcome, and they might hit the girl. That’s my future queen?”
“It is,” Lady Spry said breathlessly. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”
Chapter 27
Victoria swung her sword, her magical shield in her left hand. Luak brought his blade down hard at her head, but she lifted the shield and blocked him effortlessly.
Once again she faced off with the elf who had the one thing she wanted in all the world, which was Fairhaven.
Once again she faced off with the elf who wanted to rip the powerful Rhazdon Artifacts from her dead body.
Their swords clashed as he tested her, and with every blow his immense strength challenged hers. With every grunt, every huff, every groan, they came within inches of slicing each other’s heads off.
They were both always a second too late, always an inch away from a fatal blow.
Finally she had matched him, but she needed more.
She had to win.
Time lost its meaning in their deadly waltz. Blow after blow, strike after strike, they dodged each other. Occasionally his fist connected with her jaw and sent her flying, and other times she landed a blow to his stomach or neck, knocking him to his knees.
He had power she didn’t understand and magical artifacts that rivaled her own. Whereas ogres felt like they weighed nothing and no one else could shake her, Luak could throw her clear across the street.
Luak grabbed her collar, hands bunching on the fabric as he lifted her off her feet. She cursed under her breath, summoning a dagger from her Rhazdon Artifacts and swiping at his face. The tip sliced open his forehead as he threw her off the balcony.
She landed hard on the cobblestones below, a crater all that remained of the road after her fall. Taking a wheezy breath, she glared up at the balcony and stood, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth as she waited for him to join her.
He obliged.
When he landed, he rolled to absorb the blow. The trip would have killed most creatures, but it had been obvious for quite a while that neither she nor Luak were normal.
Without giving him a second of reprieve, she summoned the largest sword she could and swung at him. She mustered everything she had, every power she had acquired over her time in Fairhaven: her blades, her shield, her strength, her sheer force of will, her cunning, her divination.
Every blow had purpose. Every breath held power.
Bit by bit, she drove him backward and he stumbled. His sword caught hers, but barely. As her fury grew, his attacks slowed. He could only parry.
She yelled with all her soul and drove the blade toward his stomach. He gurgled, body going rigid as she pushed the sword through until the hilt was crammed into his chest.
He stared at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping, and grabbed her hands. He gurgled again, grip tightening around her wrists as she twisted the blade to drive it in further. Thin streams of blood trailed out of the corners of his mouth.
“But you’re just a human,” he said, voice tense and gruff.
The opponents stilled, eyes locked, and Victoria couldn’t speak. She had envisioned all the things she’d say to him when she got him like this, but couldn’t think of a single thing now that it was happening.
Not a word.
“This won’t matter, you know,” he said, choking. “She’s coming. S-she’s coming. Fairhaven’s hers.”
“Who?” The word came out more as a demand than a question. Victoria gritted her teeth as the dying man fell to his knees.
He just laughed, blood on his teeth. His body convulsed and the tip of her sword wavered on the other side of his body, and he collapsed.
As he hit the ground, a small black orb fell out of one of the rips in the back of his shirt. Metal clattered onto the cobblestone, and a black amulet in the shape of a spider with red eyes lay on the ground before her.
In her bones, Victoria knew what it was—a Rhazdon Artifact.
A gentle ringing filled Victoria’s ears as she stared at the object. There were more on his body then, hidden somewhere under his clothes. Her skin buzzed at the thought of all that power mere inches away. The dagger embedded in her forearm ached, the bear figurine on her abdomen shook, and the amulet in her palm burned her with its blistering heat, but still she couldn’t look away.
This elf had killed her parents, and finally—finally—she had fulfilled her promise to avenge them.
But she felt empty.
A hand on her shoulder snapped her back to the present and she tensed, ready to strike, until she saw Fyrn’s familiar face. He watched her as though she would bolt, wary and concerned, but she simply nodded in thanks.
“Call off the golems. We’ve won,” he said.
“Stop!” she shouted to her creatures. One by one, they obeyed and became still.
Fairhaven’s protectors.
A roar crashed into
her then, sudden and loud. The thrilling shouts of those around her filled her ears until she was almost deafened, and the warriors near her lifted their swords in victory.
“Victoria! Victoria! Victoria!” they shouted.
She smiled, shoulders relaxing with relief. They had done it. She shot one more glance at Luak’s corpse, though, and her smile faded. She nudged Fyrn. “Destroy his Rhazdon Artifacts.”
Fyrn’s jaw tensed, but he nodded. “Of course.”
Audrey and Diesel pushed their way to the front of the throng of people. Both had blood smeared across their faces, but they smiled warmly. Victoria had never seen a more welcome sight. They raced for her, both hugging her tightly.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” She let out a sudden breath of relief.
“We did it!” Audrey yelled.
“I knew we would,” Victoria said, trying with all her might not to crush them as she held them close.
She summoned her sword and lifted it toward the crystal above their heads.
“We’ve won!” she yelled to the sky.
And the crowd roared with her.
Chapter 28
Throughout the night, fires blazed amid the rubble of the castle’s exterior. Music played loudly as elves, ogres, and witches alike danced around the fires, celebrating freedom with as much wine as they could drink.
Fairhaven had been liberated, and the night became the longest celebration anyone alive could remember—even Fyrn.
But the next day around noon, Victoria sat in a war room in the east tower and laughed. It was a real laugh, a full one—the kind she hadn’t experienced in a while. Tears filled the corners of her eyes, and she didn’t bother holding back.
It was all too ridiculous.
“You want me to be queen?” she asked.
The politicians and generals at the table around her nodded. Not a single one even paused to consider her question. Even Styx nodded happily from his place on the table, but then her little pet was a bit biased.
Victoria lifted one eyebrow. “But why?”
Lady Spry smiled warmly and sat back in her chair. “This has been the plan from the beginning, Victoria.”
“No one told me.”
“Exactly. You would have said no.”
Victoria squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to catch up with the rest of them. “Obviously. I don’t need to be queen. I just wanted Fairhaven to be safe.”
“That’s what makes you perfect for the job.”
Several men and women around the table nodded and murmured in agreement.
Victoria laughed. “Do you even hear how ridiculous—”
Diesel leaned toward her, even though he was seated several chairs to her left. “Darling, the people love you. You led the charge. You killed Luak. They want no one else.”
She suppressed an eye roll. If she did become queen, she would have to talk to him about how often he used pet names with her.
“So what does this mean? I stand on the balcony and do the queen-wave? Judge rose contests?”
“You’re the commander of the army,” Eldrin said with a chuckle.
“You make or adjust the laws,” Lady Spry added.
“You rule with compassion and mercy,” Fyrn added.
“And yes,” Diesel added, “you judge rose contests on occasion.”
A few in the room chuckled, but Victoria stared at the table. It was all so much, so suddenly. Only yesterday…
Fyrn put an arm around her shoulder, and she looked up at her mentor. “Victoria, do you love Fairhaven?”
“With all my heart.”
“Luak was working for someone, and he said this woman is coming for us. You heard his threat yourself. Do you still want to protect these people? Do you still want to protect Fairhaven, even if something worse than Luak comes for us?”
“Of course.”
“Then accept. You are more suited for this role than you’re giving yourself credit for.”
She sighed in defeat, glancing around the room to gauge the expressions on everyone’s faces. Even Audrey seemed to be in on the plan, and she winked as Victoria caught her eye.
“If that’s what you want,” Victoria said.
Lady Spry clapped her hands and stood. “Marvelous. Everyone, I need a moment with our new queen.”
Chairs scraped the floor as most of the people stood, though Fyrn, Diesel, and Audrey remained seated. As the door shut behind them, Lady Spry’s smile widened.
“I’m so grateful you accepted,” the senator said.
“The monarchy hasn’t been offered up quite yet, Lady Spry,” a booming voice said.
Victoria stood, summoning her sword as she glared around the empty room. She balled one hand into a fist, ready to summon her shield to protect her friends. “Get down, guys! Under the table!”
Lady Spry chuckled. “Castle Fairhaven, you startled her.”
Victoria lifted an eyebrow. “That was the castle?”
A golden pool appeared in the air above the middle of the table. It shimmered and swirled like ink in a lake, but Victoria didn’t lower her guard. In the midst of the swirling gold a smooth face appeared, one that lacked nose or eyes. The mouth was more of a hole.
It looked like a talking mask floating in a molten pool.
“What the…” Victoria took a cautious step back, not quite processing whatever this was.
“Skeptical. Good, good,” the mask said as it studied her.
Victoria snorted. “Skeptical is an understatement, buddy.”
“Let’s have a look at you,” the mask said. In the wall behind her two of the stone blocks disappeared, and Fyrn stepped out of the way as two green vines shot from the holes. The tips lifted her hair, turned her around, and even popped open her mouth to have a look at her teeth.
She swatted at them, but they were too damn fast. “Will you stop it?”
“Hmm,” the castle said to itself.
“What exactly is this accomplishing?” Victoria snapped.
“Victoria, hush,” Lady Spry said quietly.
“Don’t you tell me to—”
“And fiery, good,” the castle said.
Victoria frowned. “Look you—”
“I’m satisfied,” the castle interrupted. He nodded once, and the vines disappeared back into the wall. “You were right, Lady Spry. She is perfect.”
The senator smiled. “I know.”
***
One day later, Victoria walked down the aisle in the palace throne room in an ornate gown. The room was filled with warriors and friends, as the good people of Fairhaven and their close allies from Lochrose all crammed into the hall to see her crowned.
Freaking queen. She couldn’t believe it, but if it put her in a position to keep Fairhaven safe she would unbegrudgingly judge a few rose contests.
Music swelled in the grand space, and the sweet aroma of lavender wafted through the air as she reached the platform at the end of the hall. The dress lifted itself as she ascended the steps, never under her heels, and she turned to face her people before sitting on the throne.
Her throne.
She straightened her back, astounded and grateful. Everything she had faced—the blood, the pain, the sacrifice—had been worth it, to see Fairhaven finally freed.
From her place beside her, Lady Spry lowered an ornate golden crown onto her head. Beams of light shot through the windows, filling the hall with an otherworldly glow. Dots of light danced on the ground as the light refracted off the stones on her head, and the crowd cheered.
Victoria couldn’t help but smile broadly. Luak had taken everything from her, but she had rebuilt from the ashes. And no one—absolutely no one—would ever take her home and family from her again.
Chapter 29
Victoria’s first royal decree had been to restart the Berserk championships.
Hey, a girl had to have her priorities.
She sat in the royal box with Fyrn on one side and Diesel beh
ind her. Styx waved his tiny hands in the air from his perch on the edge of the box, hooting and hollering and chattering in his gibberish language.
Angelique cheered too, but the sound cut off as she winced sharply. An ogre had just knocked an elf flat on his back, and his arm now bent the wrong way. “What a brutal sport!”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Victoria said with a chuckle. She stood and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Destroy him!”
In Victoria’s peripheral view, Angelique leaned toward Diesel. “She certainly gets into it, doesn’t she?”
Victoria shrugged and sat back down. “I can’t help it.”
Diesel laughed. “A queen can’t show favoritism, my love.”
“But that’s half the fun! Audrey, you’ve got my back on this, right?” No one answered. Victoria tilted her head, looking for her friend. “Where did she go?”
Diesel gestured to the grass below. “Down to the field. The Plits are up next.”
“What? I have to get ready! Why did no one tell me?”
“Victoria,” Fyrn said sternly. “You can’t play.”
“Like hell I can’t play.”
The old wizard huffed. “I already went over this with Audrey. Certainly you have a little more sense than this, girl. You’re the queen. I hate agreeing with that infatuated idiot of yours, but he’s right. You can’t show favoritism.”
“Hey!” Diesel snapped.
“Besides, it would hardly be a fair game with you on the field.”
“But—”
“Game!” the announcer called from the field below.
The remaining three players—the last to not tap out despite their limps and broken arms—smacked each other on the backs and limped in unison off the field.
“Next we have the Plits versus the Snarxes!” the announcer shouted.
Below, nineteen players rushed onto the field from opposite directions, and Victoria watched with a widening smile as Audrey waved at her. Seconds later, Edgar and the remaining team members followed suit. The nine of them huddled at the end of the field, leaving her spot empty in solidarity.
They wanted her to play too.
“Screw this,” she said, lifting the crown off her head and setting in gently on her chair.