A wicked smile, arms crossed over his chest, leathery wings rising above him like a funeral shroud. “Maybe you shouldn’t have betrayed me.”
Ursula pointed Excalibur at his chest, her arm trembling with a simmering fury.
Abrax sighed. “You and I both know you’re drained. You have no fire left to fight me.” He shook his head. “I’d been thinking about killing you, but now I think I might just let you live. So you can feel pain in your heart until your sad little mortal body withers and dies.”
That was what Bael had worried about. Watching her grow old while he remained in his prime. And now he was dead. Something cracked within Ursula, and hot wrath erupted in her body.
The last dregs of Emerazel’s power burned through her veins, flowing into Excalibur. Fire leapt from the blade, forming a massive sword of flame.
She lunged forward, and it pierced Abrax’s chest. He moaned, falling to the tiles, clutching his ribs. Pure rage consumed Ursula as she stalked over to him, flames flickering around the tip of the blade.
“You filthy bitch,” Abrax moaned.
“Still had some fire left. You really should have drained all of it.” Ursula pointed Excalibur at Abrax’s throat.
“N-no—” sputtered Abrax as he frantically tried to get away. His legs didn’t seem to be working properly, and blood smeared the tiles under him.
Ursula pinned his throat with her blade. “You said you didn’t believe the prophecy. Was that a lie?”
Abrax’s eyes flashed with terror. “I will give you anything you want. Money, power...”
Hot anger ripped through her mind. “You just took from me the only thing I want.” She slashed the flaming blade downward, opening up another deep wound in his chest. The smell of burning flesh darkened the air.
Abrax’s back arched, and he writhed in agony. “Wait! Wait!” Frantically, he dug into his pockets until he pulled out a wallet between his fingers.
“You think you can buy me?” Ursula snarled.
“It’s not money,” Abrax rasped. “Wings.”
“Wings,” Ursula repeated, as understanding began to dawn.
“If you want to save him, you can use these.” Abrax cracked open the billfold, giving Ursula a view. Folded inside were two golden wings that glowed with an otherworldly light. “But first you need to be a good hound and fetch.” He threw the billfold across the room.
“Pull your magic off him,” Ursula growled, her blade piercing his skin.
The inky magic receded from Bael’s body. Then Ursula slashed at Abrax’s throat, cutting through his jugular, a gurgling noise rising from the wound. But her attention was already elsewhere.
Ursula stared at the billfold on the marble floor. Bael’s wings, the source of his immortality, rested twenty feet away. Dropping Excalibur, Ursula sprinted for them, hope blooming in her heart.
Chapter 44
She snatched the billfold from where it lay on the floor, then sprinted to Bael.
“Cera!” shouted Ursula as she ran. “I’m going to need your help. I have his wings.”
“Flip him over!” Cera shrieked. She ran over to where Bael lay and grabbed the wallet from Ursula’s hands.
As Cera carefully withdrew the wings, Ursula turned to Bael’s still body. His chest wasn’t moving. Could she really still save him? Grunting and using all her strength, she pushed Bael’s body over, so he lay flat on his front.
“Hurry,” shouted Cera.
Ursula grabbed the fabric at Bael’s shoulder and began to pull.
“Wait.” Cera pulled out a knife, then began cutting the shirt off his back, and drew the blade through his bandages. Fresh blood oozed from the wounds where Bael’s wings had been.
Looking at his ravaged back, Ursula snatched the wings from Cera. The wings were featherlight and transparent, glowing with a pearly magic. “What do I do?”
Cera chewed her lip. “I think you just put them on the wounds.”
Slowly, Ursula pressed a wing onto the closest wound. She paused for a full second, but nothing happened.
“I think it needs to be both of them,” whispered Cera.
“Right.” Holding her breath, Ursula carefully placed the remaining wing on the second wound.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the wings began to glow brighter, with a silvery light like a burning star, until they shone so brightly Ursula had to cover her eyes. Relief bloomed in her chest. It’s working. A wild joy bubbled through her.
When she opened her eyes again, Bael was sitting before her. His bare, tattooed chest glowed with an unearthly light, and the room filled with the scent of sandalwood. He drew in a deep breath, standing and extending his hand to Ursula.
“Thank you,” he said, the light fading. Shadows began to swirl about him once again, and dark wings cascaded behind him.
He looked like a god, and Ursula’s jaw dropped.
“You returned my wings to me.” He pulled her closer, enfolding her in his powerful arms.
Ursula could have hardly thought it possible, but his body felt even stronger, like steel cables now reinforced his muscles. He kissed her, and she melted into his embrace.
A deep cough interrupted them.
Lucius was pulling dead fragments of shadow magic off his body. “I’m sorry to intrude, but where is Excalibur?”
Ursula whirled, turning to find Abrax. But he wasn’t there.
In fact, where he’d been lying, she saw only a smear of blood. Hadn’t she slashed his throat? And his chest?
“How did he survive that?” she cried. “I thought the sword could kill him.”
A sound somewhere between a growl and a roar rumbled in Lucius’s chest. “That sword is mine.”
“So we will retrieve it,” said Bael.
Lucius gripped his hair. “The demon could be anywhere now.”
Ursula frantically racked her brain. What use would Abrax have for Excalibur?
That was when a terrifying realization sparked in her mind. “I know where he’s gone. He wants to kill his father. He’ll be at Asta, hunting for Nyxobas.”
At Asta’s spire, Sotz landed on the platform. The violet crystal glowed faintly in the bright light. Bael climbed off from behind her, and Ursula followed, her gaze flicking to Cera and Lucius as they landed gracefully.
With a sickening snapping sound, Lucius shifted into his human form. He clapped his hands together, his face reddened. “Let’s get my sword, shall we?”
They stalked into the tunnel, and Ursula reached out to touch the walls of the passage. Without Emerazel’s fire in her veins, the crystal didn’t feel ice cold. If anything, she could feel the deep hum of magic thrumming all around her, seeping into her veins.
Ursula could hear the distinct sound of hammering when they entered the hall of the lords, and she strained her eyes in the dim light. The faint indigo gleam of the crystal cast a pale glow on the empty stone tables of the demon lords.
Ursula’s gaze flicked to Nyxobas’s throne, where he sat, as usual, in a dark-eyed daze. But he wasn’t alone, and that was where the sound of hammering was coming from. Abrax stood just before the sleeping god, gripping Excalibur. He grunted, rearing back to swing for his father’s head. But his aim was off, and it slammed into the stone next to Nyxobas for what must have been at least the hundredth time. The rock sparked, and shards of crystal sprayed onto the floor of the throne room.
“Put it down, fool,” Lucius bellowed. “You cannot handle the blade. Only Excalibur chooses who may wield it.”
Abrax turned, his face a mask of fury, blood streaming from his throat, his chest. “I am the son of a god. I can do what I want.”
“Surrender yourself,” said Bael. “You are outnumbered and half dead.”
“No.” Abrax stumbled toward them, his pale eyes wide.
“No?”
“Did you not think I would have a contingency plan?” He pointed to a dark form in the corner. A man, wrapped in shadow magic.
Ursula’s stomach clenc
hed when she recognized Kester’s sandy hair.
Abrax grinned. “All I have to do is snap my fingers, and the shadows will coil around his throat.”
“Do you think we won’t sacrifice Kester?” said Bael.
“She won’t.” Abrax pointed to Ursula.
“Bael,” said Ursula. “Let me talk to him.”
Bael’s dark wings cascaded gracefully behind him. “Ursula, wait.”
But she was already striding across the marble floor.
Abrax smiled at her as she approached. “I knew you would save your friend.”
“Release him.” Nyxobas’s power thrummed over her body, coiling between her ribs. Maybe her fire magic was gone, but now she felt the thrill of night magic—cold, ancient, and strangely familiar.
Abrax narrowed his eyes. “Your soul for his.”
“Ursula!” shouted Bael in warning, but Ursula was already leaping, the shadows carrying her as if on a phantom wind.
She appeared next to Abrax. Before he could strike her with Excalibur, she drove Honjo into his ravaged chest. Abrax’s eyes widened as she jerked the sword upward.
“You cannot kill me. I am immortal.”
“I know you can feel pain.” She twisted the blade, watching his face contort with agony.
Abrax’s body began to quiver, his bones contracting, his face becoming demonic.
“No you don’t,” said Ursula, grabbing him by the throat and pulling his face closer. “You were right. I’m drained of Emerazel’s fire. But that only leaves room for Nyxobas’s shadows. They’re drawn to me, like they belong to me. I’m a creature of the night. I always have been. Do you remember what happened when you tried to kill me on the sands of Lacus Mortis?”
There was fear in Abrax’s eyes now. “I am immortal—”
“But that won’t stop me from consuming your magic.”
Ursula breathed in, sucking Abrax’s shadowy magic into her body. Dark and wispy as smoke, it imbued her body, pooling around her skull, her ribs. She felt herself lured into the void, that clean expanse of nothingness, where she didn’t have to feel. She fought to stay focused, drawing Abrax’s magic from him.
Abrax’s pale eyes widened. As Ursula drained him, a voice boomed all around her, penetrating her skull. “Enough!”
She looked at Nyxobas where he sat on his throne, his eyes now sharp and clear as rays of light.
She stared into the god’s ancient face, and the darkness of the void drew her under.
Chapter 45
She drifted in the void, darkness enveloping her.
“Ursula.” Nyxobas’s voice rumbled through her bones, his voice reverberating in the darkness, seeming to come from every direction. Or maybe from within her mind.
“Why are you fighting Abrax?” his voice boomed.
If she hadn’t been floating in a void, Ursula would have sighed in frustration. “He was trying to kill you. I was trying to save you.”
“Do you know why you are here, in the void? Do you know why my power imbues you?”
A thought, an idea from the back of her mind, blazed to life. Something she’d known for a long time, but that she’d refused to really entertain. “I come from you, don’t I? My mother was one of your followers. I saw her eyes—black as the void.”
“She was my lover.”
“And I’m your daughter.” How long had she known this for? It was the first time she’d allowed herself to think it, and yet it seemed so crystal clear to her now. The night had always called to her. She’d felt the power of shadow magic flowing through her veins. She felt a distant horror at the realization that Abrax was her brother.
Emerazel had known all along, hadn’t she? When Ursula had first met the fire goddess, Emerazel had forced her to kneel with a gleeful sense of dominance.
“If you can find your way out of the void, I’m pulling the mark of that bitch from you,” said Nyxobas, as if hearing her thoughts. “You won’t belong to her anymore. You’re a demigod, Ursula. And that’s why I needed to test your ability in combat at Lacus Mortis. You did not disappoint me.”
“You sacrificed my mother, didn’t you? You used her as a pawn in your war against Emerazel’s followers.”
“Your mother was a powerful warrior, like you. She made her own choice. She was very devoted to me,” said Nyxobas. “She made her own decisions. She chose to try to kill the king for me. He was a follower of my greatest enemy, Emerazel. He needed to be stopped, his bloodline ended. In his quest for power, he was converting too many souls. I couldn’t allow Emerazel that sort of advantage. Your mother understood.”
In the void, Ursula’s emotions were dulled, and yet she felt a distant sense of betrayal. Her mother had chosen Nyxobas over her. Her mother had left her alone. Still, here in the void, that clean, soothing emptiness pulled her under, that freedom from the pain of memories. If she could just stay here forever…
“I need to get out of here,” she whispered.
“But you prefer it here, don’t you? You long to escape. There’s nothing in your memories but the darkness. You did that to yourself.”
“I remember some things… I remember watching my mother die. Her eyes were filled with your shadows.” Still, Ursula couldn’t feel the memory—until all at once, she found herself back in Mount Acidale.
It was the floor of King Midac’s hall, and her gaze went to the king’s table. King Midac sat at one end of the table, near the queen and Kester.
But it was the woman next to the queen that drew Ursula’s attention, her auburn hair tumbling over a purple velvet gown. Bright blue eyes, a heart-shaped face—the woman who’d once rubbed her back at night when she had nightmares about dragons. The woman who’d baked her favorite bread on her days off, who’d patiently taught her to wield a sword. The woman who’d pulled Ursula onto her lap, reading her stories about faraway lands, before she went to bed at night. My mother. Ursula wanted to run to her, to ask her not to leave.
She knew what was coming next, and a sense of betrayal pierced her ribs like a dozen arrows.
Ursula stared as her mother drew a steak knife, driving it into the queen’s heart. Blood poured from her chest.
Why did you choose to leave me? They’d been members of the king’s guard together. Ursula had been proud of her uniform—the purple and gold. She’d been a proud soldier, like her grandfather. Her mother was ripping her world apart.
The woman who’d combed her hair, who’d soothed her tears when the other children had called her a fatherless child.
Once, her mother had been her world.
Time seemed to slow down, and grief slammed into Ursula. Her mum lunged for the king, but Kester was already reaching for his blade. For the briefest of instants, Ursula’s mother turned toward the hellhound, her eyes black as Nyxobas’s void. Ursula’s mind screamed.
Then everything sped up again. Bael leapt over the table. Across from him, Kester drew his sword. Pushing the king aside, Kester drove his blade into her mother’s stomach.
The world went dark again.
“How did that feel?” asked Nyxobas. “Now you see why you rid yourself of your own memories.”
“She left me,” said Ursula. “She betrayed me, and I was ashamed of her. But I can’t stay here.” Grief threatened to swallow her whole—but she could take it. She didn’t need the void now.
Gasping, she pulled herself from Nyxobas’s shadows once more, and light shone in her eyes again. Across from her, Abrax lay stunned, his eyes filled with shadows. Still lost in the void.
Those emotions from her memory—the shame, the pure sorrow—still ripped her mind apart, threatening to drive her mad. My mother was once my world—and she left me.
Ursula snarled, picking up Excalibur from the marble floor. She swung it once—clean through Abrax’s neck. Blood arced over the floor, and his body slumped to the marble.
“Sorry, Dad,” she whispered. “But he had to go.”
When she looked up at Nyxobas, she found him lost in the voi
d once more. She slid her fingertips under the collar of her shirt, finding the skin smooth.
The mark of Emerazel was gone.
Chapter 46
Ursula sat at the dining room table in her old apartment. Across from her, Cera sipped from a glass of wine, her eyes locked on Lucius.
The chandelier bathed them in warm light, and Ursula relaxed into her chair. By her side, Zee twirled a champagne glass, marveling at the pink flower in the bottom. “Let’s not leave New York any time soon, okay? I’ve had enough mushroom stew and disgusting prison food to last me a lifetime. And more importantly, the humans have already rebuilt my favorite Thai place.”
Since the dragons had destroyed half of New York, humans were already reconstructing the city, piecing their lives back together, one building at a time.
At Zee’s side, Kester ran his finger over the rim of his wineglass, meeting Ursula’s gaze. “You do realize that since you no longer work for Emerazel, you won’t be able to keep this apartment, right? You’re off the payroll, darling. No more gold for you.”
Ursula frowned. “But you can keep it, right? Maybe I can just…sublet from you. Except without the exchange of money, because I won’t have any.”
Kester arched an eyebrow. “I suppose there’s not much work available for an ex-hellhound demigod of night, is there?”
Ursula shrugged. “I don’t suppose there are any demigod temp agencies.”
Lucius leaned back in his chair, folding his fingers behind his ginger hair. “Tell me again how you freed yourself from the bonds of Emerazel.”
Ursula took a sip of her Châteauneuf-du-Pape, rolling it around on her tongue. “Nyxobas did that for me. It seems that all this time, he’d wanted me to prove myself before he was willing to step in. He wanted to test my mettle in the battles of Lacus Mortis, and he needed to see if I was willing to accept my own memories, or if I belonged in the void with him.”
Cera blinked, her silver eyes wide. “He’s not angry that you slaughtered his son?”
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