“What’s going on?” I asked.
A soft wheeze answered my question, the messenger’s eyes staring blankly up at the doorframe. Although I had never known this man, it distressed me incredibly to see him in such intense pain. The fire of the Vault built around me, stretching up the walls. Thanks to my magicard, the flames didn’t melt the skin from my body.
“How did this happen?” I tried again, giving him a single shake. “I need to know, what danger waits for me up in the Vault?”
The messenger shot upward, a spasm seizing him as he rattled toward his inevitable death. He sank into my arms, lowering slowly as if the life was flowing from him little by little. His eyes rolled back, showing nothing but white as he uttered a single, two-syllable word with his final breath.
“Kronin.”
The name struck fear into my heart. The messenger, who had given his all to warn me, became nothing but ashes in my arms, before the wind carried him into the sky. The process was called interference, and it always happened when an immortal died by the hand of another. I’d always had my suspicions that it was the Gods of R’hen taking pity on the soul, and giving it a delicate departure from this Earth.
That was it. The man had been obliterated to dust, fluttering away into the soot-blackened sky, while I was left with a burning tower in the middle of a shitstorm. The thought of Victor Kronin scared the hell out of me. On trembling legs, I pushed myself off the ground and stared at the burning stairwell, knowing I might be going back to Chicago in a body bag.
As fast as I could, I turned and took the stairs two at a time, barely prepared to face him – to stand against the one man who terrified me more than anything else in my sixty years of life.
And I would do it alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Destruction. Death. Everywhere.
The fire chased me up the stairs, crawling across the support beam and licking the wood with its yellowish flare. Although it couldn’t burn me while I had this card equipped, the heat made things wildly uncomfortable. Due to Jasper’s douchebag behavior, I hadn’t donned a cloak and my jacket dripped with sweat. I tore it off and flung it behind me, now able to move more freely in a plain black shirt. I burst into the room at the top of the tower.
“Thank God,” I mumbled, when I found the room empty. I knew that Victor Kronin was somewhere inside the Vault, but if I couldn’t put these fires out then we were all going to burn anyway.
Buried in the far wall was a small collection of magicards. I closed my eyes and tried to think, which was easier said than done with the infrastructure of the room collapsing and crashing around me. If I could just remember which cards I’d put into the walls, I might have had an easier time. I knew that the teleportation card was kept inside the wall on the left, but getting there without my clothes burning off was a sure challenge. The cards of thunder and mind-control were also kept in here, but there was something else. Something that I knew would be of great use to me, but I couldn’t quite remember what…
Ice.
My eyes shot open as it came to me. Of course it had been ice – it was the one I tended to use the least, as it really wasn’t as helpful as you might think. Still, at least the soul within was a calm one. After my recent rage-fueled outburst, a change of pace might suit me well. Not that it would aid me much in a combat situation. I would just have to hope that Victor hated the cold as much as I did.
I rushed to the wall, pressing my hand against the magic barrier. A flash of light shone out and the fire magicard flew from my pocket as if self-propelled. The wall opened up like a gaping brick mouth, sucked it in, and then swallowed it. The fires were catching up to me now, and I could feel the scorching pain as my power drained away. My flesh felt hot against the air, the smoke making me choke and gag.
Finally, a new card was produced. It hung suspended within the wall’s hole, like it was floating. I reached out and snatched it, holding it close to my chest while I tried to focus. I struggled to ignore the heat, but I needed to concentrate. Slowly, I could feel the mage tapping into my soul, merging with my own. I had always hated this process; it felt too personal, too perverse.
A cold chill shot through my arm. The magic was coming through, slowly at first, until shards of ice slipped through my palms like butter. I took aim, holding my hand out toward the creeping fire, and blew a torrent of frost at it.
I clamped my eyes shut in relief as the flames receded, engulfed by the cold before they turned to moisture and spilled to the floor like overflow from a cup. I ran through the hallway, arm extended, rushing to extinguish the fires as fast as my legs would carry me. When the stairwell was safe, I turned and continued through the corridors, killing the fires as I went.
By the time I was done, I realized that I hadn’t encountered a single person. I’d been dreading the thought of dashing into a room and seeing a messenger or maid burned to a crisp inside their chambers, but I didn’t find any bodies – dead or alive. They must have gotten out before I had arrived, though where they’d run to remained a mystery.
The Vault was mostly safe, but the Grand Hall remained. I stood in front of the door, pressing my ear against it, and listened to an altercation unfold. I couldn’t hear the words but Dalton’s voice was clear as day… and there was someone else. A voice riddled with anger. Not talking at all, in fact, but bellowing.
Victor Kronin.
I remained outside the door, catching my breath. I’d feared for this moment for quite some time, but now that it had finally come, fear seized my body in a vice-like grip. I check my arm – my weapon – and ensured that I had full control over my new ice powers. It seemed like I did, but somehow, I knew it wasn’t enough.
Taking a deep and unsteady breath, I opened the door and faced my enemy.
Across the expanse of the hall, Victor stood with his back to me. I noticed immediately that his feet weren’t touching the floor. They were engulfed in a cloud, as if he stood on a floating ball of smoke only inches from the ground. Beside him, the robed bodies of two men lay on the floor. One lay in a crumpled heap, stomach clutched in an open hand. The other was drenched in blood, his moving fingers the only sign of life. When I saw their black sashes and realized they were the Elders, a deep rage tore through me.
“Victor!” I yelled, anger lending confidence to my voice.
Victor turned. His blazing purple eyes shot through me. There wasn’t an ounce of recognition within them, but there should have been. We’d been friends at some point, many years ago. Even after that, we’d had our share of commotion. Worst of all, I even struggled to recognize him; I hadn’t thought about it until now, but while I was immortal and stayed forever young, Victor Kronin had aged by almost thirty years. Now he looked like a pissed-off old man, with raw power emanating from his fiery glare. His hair had fallen out, but it suited his fine features and square jaw. His skin had turned pale; a likely result of his vampire bite. I didn’t dare stop to think how strong that would make him.
“You’ve come to challenge me?” he said. His deep voice echoed through the hall, as if passing through concert-hall speakers. I wasn’t sure what frightened me the most: the demonic voice itself, or the actual words.
As he turned, my eyes lowered to spot Dalton, who lay on the floor behind him. For the most part, he looked to be unharmed, but there was nothing to suggest that he would stay that way. If I was going to defend him, I would have to act fast, draw the attention to myself.
“You’re damn right, baldy.” I flicked out a hand to my side and let a blizzard brew there for a moment. “Step down right now, or I’ll put you down.”
I regretted my choice of words immediately.
Victor’s eyes lit up. Black smoke clouded them as thunder cracked inside the hall. His arms shot out and smoke snaked around a purple light, shooting at me like water from a hose, only louder, faster, and far more dangerous.
I brought my hands up in front of me. Frost blasted from my palms, falling right in front of my body an
d turning to crystalized ice. The second it hardened, the smoke hit it and blew it to thousands of tiny shards.
At least it worked as a shield, I thought, as I dove behind the nearest pillar.
The smoke came again, cracking in the air like thunder. With shaking hands, I constructed another wall of ice between myself and the next pillar. Before it was too late, I ran along the wall just as the pillar exploded behind me, and I slid across the marble floor to my next cover.
“You’re a persistent little bug,” Victor cried, his voice shrieking at me like surround sound. “But like all bugs, you can be easily stepped on!” The smoke came once more, but this time it was louder, darker. Angrier.
I knew it was a dumb move, but I poked my head out from the security of the pillar and saw that Dalton was no longer there. That was good – it must have meant he’d scrambled away while I was keeping our friend occupied. Victor, on the other hand, hadn’t moved an inch. Instead, he stood on his storm cloud with his teeth bared, a large purple ball of smoke growing between his hands, until it was the size of a yoga ball. When his shoulders came back, I knew he was going to throw that thing at me.
I ducked back behind the pillar to protect myself.
As much as I wanted to hurt this guy, it didn’t look like I would get the chance. If I was really lucky, I might have made it out of there alive. I began to think about Link and wondered if he was okay, when the pillar behind me burst into a rain of stone.
I was tossed into the air like a bowling pin, dazed, confused. The pillars had weakened and the Grand Hall began to collapse around me. In my adrenaline haze, all I could think to do was conjure some pillars of my own. I thought that if I worked fast, I could keep this place from caving in before Victor turned us all to ash.
“You’re pissing me off!” I heard him yell, as he threw more balls of Chaos at me.
I’m not your biggest fan either, I thought, juggling icy constructs between my palms. I raced to form a pillar where the last one had been demolished, and then created an icy barrier around myself. Chaos smoke shot at me, smashing it to smithereens. I quickly formed a new one, and got to work on the second pillar while Victor continued his rampage.
Weak and overwhelmed, I couldn’t keep up. Every time I tried to support the ceiling, my barrier got blown away and I had to stop to create another. I was getting pinned down, and I had no form of attack. Victor was too strong. Too fast. All I could do was get ready to die, knowing that I had tried my best to defeat him.
“Leave the girl alone!” Dalton reappeared from nowhere, screaming at Victor, reaching toward the air with his fingers spread. Dust and rocks formed a whirlwind in front of him, spinning around while they picked up speed, growing faster, faster, until he finally let them loose at our assailant.
Victor turned his attention toward Dalton, dodging the incoming rock-fire as best he could. While he was distracted, I quickly got to work on making new constructs, ensuring the stability of the Grand Hall. As soon as I could breathe, I turned to witness the ongoing battle between the two powerful mages, where Dalton was actually holding his own. Of course, he stood a chance of winning now that it was two against one.
But still, Victor held the winning card. The Chaos card.
I quickly summoned a handful of icy needles, lined up my shot, and hurled them at Victor’s back. The moment seemed suspended in time as I watched, expecting to see the shards pierce his skin and put an end to all this madness.
At the last moment, he turned.
A wall of smoke rose before him, collecting the ice and causing it to shatter in front of his eyes. There was no getting past this guy – he seemed to anticipate anything we could throw at him. But with Dalton on one side and me on the other, we double-teamed him, and that split his attention in two directions.
The purple smoke continued to enlarge around him, creating a kind of hurricane. Rocks and rubble swirled as the cyclone continued to spin, tearing through the air like a freak of nature. I watched in horror, hands at the ready to defend myself, but the smoke evaporated, flooding from the room and leaving nothing but the chill of a haunting breeze in its wake.
Dalton and I stood, each collecting our breath and preparing for a second bout. When I realized Victor wasn’t coming back, I let my tired arms drop to my sides, panting hard and struggling to breathe.
“Are you okay, Lady Keira?” Dalton called across the hall.
I nodded. Was I really okay? No – not really. I had survived my first encounter with Victor Kronin and lived to talk about it. But what if he returned? What if he found a way to summon this demon of his, and came back with a minion of hell at his side? We wouldn’t stand a chance then. I just hoped that we could stop him before that happened.
I observed my surroundings. Everything had been demolished in the path of this madness. Ice fused the ceiling and who knew how long that would last? Dirt and stones covered the entire floor. Two of the Elders lay dying in the rubble, and all we had to show for this battle was an extra breath of life. And was it worth it? I barely thought so – after everything we had done to stop this from happening, we had already lost so much.
And, yet, the worst was still to come.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The cleanup was a long and painful process. Rubble had to be shifted, structures had to be stabilized. My ice came in handy during the rebuild. The wounded were triaged and provided medical treatment. Some of them had a chance of surviving, but not all. The two Elders, for example, had been so badly beaten that their lives were hanging by a thread.
I wasn’t sure why Victor had attacked the Vault. I could only guess that he was testing himself, pushing his limits to see if he could bring us to our knees without the aid of a demon. To be completely honest, if he had been any stronger, he would have blown the place to smithereens. With a demon at his side, he’d be unstoppable.
At least Jasper would be punished for helping him. Guards from the Sacred Temple had been sent to escort him to R’hen, where he would face trial for his sins. Last time anyone had been accused of treason, a man named Harold Olsen had led an army of witches to the pillar in Geneva. The Lords of R’hen had sentenced him to a realm – a space between spaces – no bigger than a coffin. Every second on Earth was the equivalent to twelve years in the coffin, and his sentence had begun twenty years ago. The idea of Jasper facing the same fate was terrifying, but it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it.
After seeing Jasper dragged through the dark hallway to the back, Link was shown into the Grand Hall. When he saw me, his expression brightened and he ran to me, climbing up my leg like a squirrel up a tree. I had to take a break from creating ice structures for a moment, and cherish my diminutive friend.
“Are you all right, Keira?” he asked, leaning his warm and clammy face against mine.
“I’ll survive. Did Jasper give you any trouble?”
Link shook his head.
“Good. Well, he won’t be a problem anymore.” As soon as I said it, I turned to inspect the devastation of the hall. Robed men shuffled around, working together to help the place recover. They reminded me of an army of ants marching.
In time, the Vault would heal itself. Much like a broken bone, a little TLC was all it needed, and the structures would begin to reform. Fallen beams would grow back, like snapped branches on a tree. Bricks would regenerate. It would take some time, but we would get through this. As long as Victor Kronin didn’t return.
Please don’t let him return.
“Lady Keira.”
The voice startled me, and I turned to see Dalton not five feet from me.
“May I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course.” I followed him to a nearby door, passed through, and climbed a winding staircase in silence. Link gripped my shoulder, his nails digging into my skin. I wondered what awaited me, and felt more uncomfortable with each passing second. I bit my tongue until I was fit to burst, and then said it – just so I could say something.
“I’m sor
ry about what happened.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” said Dalton, without turning around.
I stared at the heels of his boots, watching him climb one step at a time, as if he had aged years in the past few days. Was it his use of magic that had caused it? I knew that all the Elders tended to refrain from casting spells, but was that the reason? “Even so, nobody deserves to have their home torn apart like this.”
“We will endure.”
Without another word, we continued up the cold, stone staircase until we reached a single door. Dalton unlocked it and we walked out onto a balcony, where the icy winds roared at us from over the mountains. My muscles tightened as I suffered the biting chill. Even my magicard didn’t seem to protect me from the bitterness.
Across the wide space of the balcony, two beds lay parallel to one another with a burning fire between them. An elder lay on each bed, hands together as if they had been prepared for burial. Had they died? I assumed they couldn’t have – their bodies hadn’t gone through the interference process.
“I ask,” Dalton said, and stopped. He shook his head, and for the first time in my presence, reached up and removed the hood, revealing himself to me. He looked nothing like how I had expected – I’d imagined a beardless Gandalf the Grey, but he was different, smaller somehow. He had kind features with piercing blue eyes. On the other hand, it looked like you wouldn’t want to cross him. “You have served us faithfully for many years, Lady Keira, and I offer my sincerest gratitude for that.”
I sensed a big old ‘but’ coming my way.
“But,” he said, looking at me with a steady gaze. “I’m afraid I must ask more of you. Tell me, how is it you were able to stand your ground against Victor Kronin? With the power he displayed, you should have been killed within seconds.”
Honestly, I didn’t know what to tell him. I mean, it surprised me, too. During the battle, there wasn’t a single moment that I didn’t think I was going to die. At this rate, there was a chance I still would. I settled for a noncommittal shrug. “I guess I got lucky.”
The Cardkeeper Chronicles: Books 1-5 (Complete Collection) Page 11