Before the Raging Lion (Mortality Book 4)

by Everly Frost

  “Alexander!”

  He didn’t have time to brace. I slammed into him, propelling him backward across the ground. He landed several feet from the recovering soldiers. I remained several feet above him as he stumbled to his feet.

  He snarled up at me. “Angel of death.”

  His accusation would have filled me with horror before, but not now. I’d faced my fears. I’d faced myself.

  I simply said, “No.”

  “Killer!”

  The charge rolled off me. “No.”

  His eyes narrowed. He leaped forward, hissing, his muscles coiled. He drew his dagger back, ready to strike. I rested down on the ground and gave him an easy target, waiting for the weapon to land.

  My name was screamed a hundred times around the enclosure—President Vale, Ruth, Helen, even Rachel as they continued to fight.

  Alexander drove the knife into my heart.

  I waited patiently for him to withdraw it.

  He snarled and stabbed me again. And again.

  “You can stop now.” I took hold of his wrist and forced him to drop the weapon. I stepped on it, sending heat and flame through my foot, melting the blade and setting fire to the handle.

  “You will all stop,” I whispered, directing my focus to the Evereach soldiers. They slowed. Everything slowed.

  I dropped Alexander to the ash, braced for a split second, and launched myself into flight, speeding through the battle and the carnage, using every part of my body from the tips of my wings to my feet, my hands, arms, even my elbows, to knock their weapons high into the air.

  Metal and steel flew upward, airborne. When I was done, a hundred weapons hung suspended in the air. I released the soldiers and they found their hands empty, their weapons floating high above them.

  “Remember your honor!” I cried to the still-armed Seversandians, knowing the temptation to expose the Evereach soldiers to mortality serum and kill them would be very strong.

  “Victah-Var-Soul!” President Vale shouted as I took flight. I collected all the weapons above me, incinerating them as I went. But on my downward flight, I collected one last thing.

  Alexander.

  I scooped him up and took him with me, beating my wings and flying high above the Coliseum. He struggled like a wild creature, ripping my skin with his fingernails, biting me with his teeth. I held him out from my body, suspending him as he kicked in the air and seemed to finally realize where he was.

  Far below us, the Coliseum was a circle of rock. Around the Coliseum, about a mile out, was another circle, but this one was made up of Seversandian warriors fighting an onslaught of Evereachers. As I flew higher and higher, I could see all the way to the western beach and the Evereach warships resting on the coast. Drones swarmed around the beach. Red mist floated above the golden sand like dense fog—mortality serum. Much closer, another swarm of drones approached the perimeter line, but those shot sparkling mortality bullets at the Seversandians below.

  It was war, raging across Seversand from the beaches to the heart of the Coliseum.

  An explosion on the perimeter of the colossus billowed into the sky. I sighted down to it, narrowing my focus to see more clearly. Aaron Reid ran alongside General Gaza. He’d told me the night before that there was something he needed to do. A swarm of drones sped toward them.

  Aaron carried a bow and arrow. He dropped, knelt on one knee as General Gaza lit the arrow, and then Aaron unleashed it into the oncoming swarm. The projectile curved. There was a pause. Then the arrow exploded.

  Aaron was helping the Seversandians.

  I was surprised, but realized I shouldn’t have been. Aaron had lost his best friend—and his brother. He’d blamed himself for Josh’s death and blamed me for his brother’s. He was hurting, but he’d put his pain aside to defend innocent people from an unwarranted attack.

  “No more war.” I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them, flames swirled around me: a giant dragon, horse, eagle, and tiger. My flame creatures.

  They sped away into the battle. The eagle and the dragon shrieked all the way to the beaches, raging through the warships, exploding into them. Then they turned to the beaches, becoming sharp as arrows as they targeted the Evereach soldiers and avoided the mortal Seversandians. The horse and tiger thundered into the soldiers and drones closer to the perimeter. The drones exploded and the soldiers found themselves suddenly disarmed. Within seconds, my giant flame creatures had done their work, destroying Evereach’s weapons and neutralizing the attacking soldiers’ weapons, leaving the Evereachers alive.

  “Look, Alexander. Do you see how small the people are?”

  He paused in his struggling only to grunt at me. “What’s your point?”

  “My point is that you’re that small too. You matter only as much as the smallest of them.”

  “No! I’m the strongest!”

  “I don’t think that’s true anymore.” The wind cooled my wings and blew my hair around my face.

  My hair! It had grown back. I shut my eyes for a moment, enjoying the simple sensation of hair falling down my back.

  I said, “You were given the first flower. You had the chance to plant a new tree, to start a new life. Instead you killed your only brother because you thought you’d been cheated.”

  His eyes widened. His hair was singed from Blaze’s fire. His torso still bore my blood.

  Josh had told me to fight Alexander with everything I had. In the time before he died, my brother taught me that the greatest war was the one I fought inside my own mind. He also taught me that I was strong. That I wouldn’t break. My other brothers—Snowboy, Rift, Blaze, Quake, and little Pip—had taught me that I could do anything. That I wasn’t strange or unusual or an outcast. They’d given me a home, a place where I was loved without conditions.

  Sarah had taught me not to assume I knew everything by what I saw from the outside. Ruth had taught me about wisdom and restraint, and Naomi had taught me to stay true to myself always.

  And Michael … Michael had taught me about forgiveness. Not about seeking it, but about giving it, because that was so much harder.

  I folded my wings to my side. We plummeted to the ground, Alexander and I.

  We landed next to the tree. His gaze flickered to it. As he writhed and struggled, I pulled him closer to it.

  I said, “I forgive you.”

  “You … no…” His whispered response turned into a scream of rage, spitting into my face. “You don’t get to forgive me!”

  He shoved at me, but I was stronger than him now. Much stronger. I held on tight, not letting him go.

  “Fine,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Fine. I’ll change my ways.”

  “You choose your own actions, Alexander. The consequences follow.”

  I relaxed my grip. I let him pull out of my hold, let him take a step back, allowing him to make his choice.

  He spat. “You don’t get to forgive me.”

  He spun, racing toward my brothers. The battle inside the Coliseum was over. My brothers were watching over the defeated Evereachers who sat in a group. Alexander sped straight for Rift who had paused and turned in our direction when we landed. Alexander reached out with his bare hands and I knew his intentions. The only way to hurt me now was to hurt the people I loved. He would never stop trying to win.

  My wings snapped out, lifting Alexander off the ground, pulling him away from my brothers.

  Alexander flew backward, sliding through the ash to the base of the tree. He hadn’t touched it before now. In the split second that he sailed toward it, unable to stop, his expression filled with fear.

  He crashed into it. The tree shuddered. Whatever had been holding its ashes together finally shattered.

  The tree exploded with the force of impact, dissolving into a vast cloud of dust and grit. All of its branches and the top of the trunk disintegrated into shards. Alexander stumbled backward, collapsing against the short stump that remained. As he tried to right himself, he pressed his hand
s into the top of it.

  He froze, looking down at something in the stump.

  To my surprise, the cloud of dust didn’t disperse into the wind. Instead, it drew together into a dense mass, hovering above Alexander like a threatening storm.

  As he continued to stare at the stump, he suddenly cried out.

  It was the first human sound I’d ever heard him make.

  At the same time, the mass of dust dropped onto him.

  He screamed as it touched his skin, flailing, trying to get it off. More and more dust and ash and rotten wood sped toward him, attaching to his body, covering him until I couldn’t see a single part of his skin. Still the dust and ash fell on him, filling the space around him, forming a large mound until nothing moved beneath it. He wasn’t visible anymore. Everything became still and silent.

  By the time I reached it, dust from the mound wafted into the air, lifting in the breeze and blowing away.

  I dropped to my knees, sifting through the debris.

  He wasn’t there.

  I dug deeper, but his body was gone.

  Alexander had become dust like the tree.

  I pushed enough ash aside to reach the tree stump. As I ran my hand over it, I realized I’d never know what Alexander had seen in its surface. But when I brushed away the last layer of dirt, my wrist stung. I gasped as my scorpion tattoo burned.

  I bent my hand back, lifting the tattoo into the light.

  Before my eyes, the ink rose from the surface. So did a layer of my skin. Very slowly and with purpose, the ink and skin spun itself into the form of a scorpion.

  A real, live scorpion resting on my wrist.

  It wasn’t black. It was golden like the glow around me.

  Surprise rocketed through me as the scorpion stretched itself, shivering and wobbling on its new legs. Then it scuttled down my hand to rest on the top of the stump.

  The remainder of the tree was a deep redwood, scalloped around the edges like another flower. The golden scorpion rested down on it.

  I gasped.

  It was my vision. The first vision I’d ever had of the golden scorpion on the red rose. The scorpion was part of me—part of my body that contained the seed. Part of my body that contained new life. The scorpion settled onto the stump and stopped moving. Its body became liquid, losing its solid form, and seeped through the cracks in the top of the wood.

  There was a thump in the air.

  I fell backward, cushioned by my wings.

  From the ashes, the trunk reformed. New bark formed over its wounds like living armor, building up and up, higher than I had ever imagined. Black morphed into brown and leaves sprouted, along with new boughs, thin but strong. More leaves grew, so many that they pushed each other off the plant, bursting and filling the air.

  The tree became full and lush and still it continued to grow until it reached fifty feet into the air. It cast a cool shadow as fronds of grass pushed up from the dust around me, transforming the carpet beneath us from sharp to soft. The change rippled out from me, spreading as far as I could see. And then beyond.

  Everything around, and beyond me, fell into silence.

  Michael and my brothers ran up to me, staring at the tree.

  Michael was hesitant. “Ava?”

  “Hi.” I pulled him close.

  My brothers hovered around me. I reached for them. “It’s over.”

  “Alexander?”

  “He’s … gone. How many are wounded?”

  Michael sighed. “Too many. Dad’s treating them in the chamber, but it doesn’t look good for many of them.”

  I chewed my lip, my heart heavy. “This tree. I have no idea what it will do, but we have to try, right?”

  Michael tugged me forward. “Always.”

  Rift hesitated only a moment before he placed his hand against the trunk. “Snowboy should be here.”

  “Pip too,” Quake said, pressing his big hand to a branch.

  “The heat would kill them.” Blaze grinned. He leaned against the trunk.

  Michael took my hand and together we reached for the nearest branch. As soon as we touched it, a spark of light shot through the bark, bouncing from us to Quake, to Rift, and around to Blaze, then back again. The branches creaked. New leaves budded and grew.

  Drops of black liquid formed in the curve of each new leaf.

  “It worked.” Quake’s voice was a soft rumble.

  “Quick,” I said. “We need to get this to the injured.”

  I spread my wing just a little and curved the tip, forming a tray. As quickly as we could, we picked leaves, placing them on the curve of my wing so the nectar inside them wouldn’t slide off.

  I was so focused on keeping my wing horizontal that I didn’t realize my brothers had frozen beside me.

  Without us realizing, a line of female warriors had formed behind us. Behind them, a row of males had gathered along with another row of females. Silently, the warriors lined up, filling the space around us.

  A familiar voice rose above them, singing.

  “Let the earth tremble…” The rows parted to let Ember through. She was cut and bruised, her hair matted with sweat. As she passed each row of warriors, they began to sing, too, until a chorus of voices rose around us.

  Ember headed straight for Rift. “It’s the Seversandian song about the End Times—a time of terrible darkness—but the song says that powerful warriors will rise and save our nation. And here you are.”

  Despite her wounds, she glowed, smiling at my brothers. “No Seversandian will ever harm you after this.” She turned to me. “They will never harm your brothers…” She stumbled over the words. “May I say our brothers?”

  “They’re your brothers too, Ember.”

  “All except you,” she turned to Rift, her cheeks rosy.

  Keeping an eye on the nectar, I reached for her. “Ember … Thank you. But we need to get to the wounded.”

  Ember’s smile faded. “Rift … I have to tell you. The President, your mother, she … she doesn’t have long.”

  Rift spun to me. “We have to get to her. Now.”

  He grabbed Ember’s hand. “Take us to the injured. As fast as you can.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  THE GREAT HALL where we first met President Vale was filled with people laid out in rows, both Seversandians and Evereachers.

  Mr. Bradley was busy at one end, bandaging a wounded warrior who was deathly pale, shouting orders to others who were helping him.

  “Dad!” Michael called, but the room was too noisy. “Wait, this will be faster.”

  He snatched up one of the leaves and inhaled the nectar. Blaze and Quake did the same. Within seconds, they were gone and so were half the leaves. They’d treated most of the room before Mr. Bradley looked up. He must have noticed how quiet it had become. His helpers had stopped to stare at Michael and my brothers racing between patients. And the patients themselves became quiet and restful, many of them sitting up, watching with wonder.

  “Son?” Mr. Bradley strode toward us, but Michael had already rushed away in another direction.

  Rift didn’t hesitate. “Please,” he said. “Where’s my mother?”

  Mr. Bradley adjusted fast. “She’s this way. Is that nectar? How…? Never mind, bring it quickly.”

  President Vale lay on a cloak at the far side of the room. Helen leaned over her, talking quietly. The President was crying while Helen listened.

  I stopped, painfully aware that we were eavesdropping, but it was impossible not to hear with our sensitive hearing.

  “I never should have let him go,” Elissa Vale’s voice wobbled as she spoke, her breathing labored. “I should have found another way to keep him safe. I never wanted to lose him. And now … it’s too late. I can’t make it right.”

  “We both lost our sons for a while. But I have to believe … I will believe that they’ll forgive us.”

  “Don’t lose your chance, Helena. Mine was fleeting and it passed me by. There’s no time for m
e, but for you…”

  Rift was stricken beside me. He picked up a leaf and carried it to his mother, carefully balancing it in his palm. She didn’t seem to have the energy even to startle.

  The breath wheezed in and out of her lungs, but her face lit up. “Ephron. You’re here.”

  Helen moved aside to allow him to kneel next to his mother.

  “Mo—” He swallowed. “Mom. I know there’s a lot for us to talk about but … we’re going to have time.”

  He bent over her, tipping the leaf toward her mouth.

  Her lips pursed. “What is … that?”

  “Just drink. I’ll explain later.”

  She didn’t take her eyes off him as she swallowed the nectar. Her next inhaled breath was smooth. She exhaled. Her eyes widened. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. How is this possible?”

  Rift smiled. He placed his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Like I said, we’re going to have time to talk about it.”

  Mr. Bradley coughed beside me. “Looks like I’m not needed here after all.”

  I glanced at Helen and then back to Michael. He and my brothers had finished administering nectar and he waited behind us. Michael’s family needed to heal, too.

  “Actually,” I said. “I think you are.”

  Olander no longer stood tall.

  He sat at the head of the hall, chained to the same plush seat where I’d waited for my death. The room was crowded with the same world leaders Olander had tried to kill. The Seversandian prisons were filled with Evereach soldiers and a meeting had been called to decide what to do with them.

  I waited quietly at the side with Michael and my brothers. In the past twenty-four hours, I’d learned how to tuck away my wings, but people still stared at them. My skin, too, had taken on a glow and I couldn’t stop it. I had a feeling that I’d need to train myself to control it, but for now, there were more important things to think about.

  President Vale stood at the head of the hall. She’d changed into clean armor, but it was plain this time, made of dark leather. She wore a single dagger and no jewels.

  Ruth sat in the front row. An air screen at the side showed Theresa Watson—Sarah’s mother and Evereach’s Vice President—waiting for the proceedings to start. She was only visible from the waist up, but she sat in a room with others in the background. I was glad to see that Sarah was one of them.