by Tara West
“Mother!” Simeon cried, falling to his knees. “How could you do this to your own child?”
Sparks flew from Zephyra’s clenched fists. “That mortal is no child to me,” she hollered, “and neither are you for siding with the spawn of our benevolent goddess’s killer!”
Dianna offered her hand. “Please get up. We need to move closer.”
He ignored her outstretched hand and jumped to his feet, rushing down the slope and stalking toward the fiery circle. “Mother,” he boomed, his voice eerily similar to Tan’yi’na’s deep baritone. “Release those prisoners at once.”
Zephyra clutched her heart, swaying, then stumbling forward, her eyes widening as she walked toward the prisoners. “No, Simeon!” She pointed to her prisoner’s nooses. “Don’t make me do this!”
Dianna and Feira followed Simeon, but it took longer for Feira to navigate the steep slope. Though she wanted to run, she couldn’t leave Feira to make the descent by herself.
Feira grabbed Dianna’s shoulder, forcing her to stop when Simeon walked straight through the firewall, shrugging off his smoking tunic.
“Release them now!” he bellowed.
“Resist him, Zephyra,” the other mages cried.
“Silence!” Simeon waved his fist at them, and they all fell to their knees, covering their mouths, frightened.
She was amazed at how the mages responded to Simeon, when she could not feel the strength of his words at all. ‘Twas as if his magic was confined within the seven-pointed star.
Zephyra’s hands shook as magical ropes twined around her fingers. She turned her face to the darkened cavern ceiling. “Kyani!”
Sprout emerged from a cloud of smoke, her eyes glossy with tears. “I’m sorry, brother.”
Dozens of ivy strands burst from the ground. Simeon tried to run, but they caught his ankles, snaking around him and covering his mouth within a heartbeat.
“Simeon!” Dianna ran, but Feira caught her, forcing her back with a rope of magic.
“Stop!” she cried. “Do not go within the circle. It is a heptacircle. Their magic is contained there. Yours will be, too.”
She watched helplessly as Simeon was covered in a cocoon of foliage, shrouding him completely with the exception of a narrow opening for his mouth. Magic crackled in Dianna’s palms as rage threatened to split her skull in two. How could his own mother be so cruel as to turn her young daughter against her siblings?
“Sprout!” she cried, tears streaming down her face. “Do not do this! Zephyra will kill him!”
The child let out a strangled sob. Two of the seven mages came to their feet and led her back through the cloud of smoke.
Zephyra stumbled across the stage, pointing at Feira. “You had one job—kill the spawn of the bitch who murdered our goddess. Dianna trusted you. She wouldn’t have seen it coming, but you couldn’t even avenge your grandmother’s death.” Her face looked misshapen behind the smoke, as if ’twas a melting ball of wax. “Kyan would be ashamed of you.”
Feira clutched her staff in a white-knuckled grip. “It is you she’d be ashamed of. My grandmother was a wise and benevolent goddess. She would not approve of the way you treat her mortal children.”
Zephyra tossed back her head and laughed, a sinister chuckle that raced across Dianna’s skin like a thousand tiny spiders. “It was her love of mortals that got her killed! Just like your foolish love is going to get you killed.” She rested her foot on Tumi’s chair.
When Feira raced through the circle, arcs of flame flying from her raised hands, Dianna chased after her.
Don’t go in the circle! Sindri warned.
She ignored the stone. She would not let Feira battle the evil witch alone.
Zephyra looked over her shoulder with a smile, then raised her brows at Feira before knocking Tumi’s chair out from under him.
The old man didn’t even fight. His frail body fell with a violent snap, his torso and extremities detaching like a molting bug as his shrouded head swung in the noose, dripping blood on the ground.
Feira dropped her staff and fell to her knees. “Noooo!” She reached toward her dead husband before falling face first in the dirt.
Zephyra looked down on Feira with a snarl. “You are pathetic, crying over this old, drooling relic.” She marched toward them. “You gave everything to this undeserving mortal—your beauty, your magic.” She paused, raising her hands. “Your life.”
When an arc of lightning flew off her curled fingers, rushing toward Feira with violent crackles, Dianna had no time to think, only act. She unleashed a bolt so bright, it lit up the cavern with blinding light. The other mages shielded their eyes, and Zephyra fell to her knees when Dianna’s magic engulfed the evil mage’s small bolt.
She felt as if she was floating on a cloud as she moved toward Zephyra.
The evil mage’s eyes lit with panic as she bent beneath the force of Dianna’s magic. “Do it!”
Two mages rushed to Jae’s stool, and Dianna dropped her hands. “Do not touch her!” The command blew through the cavern like a wind storm, scattering smoke and flame and shaking the stage, causing the mages to tumble backward.
She threw bolts at them, driving them away from Jae. ‘Twas why she didn’t see the ivy snaking up behind her until it was too late. She screamed when it latched onto her ankles, knocking her to the ground. She struck the tendrils with bolts. They shriveled and retreated, their blackened tips falling apart and scattering. She scrambled to her feet only to see Zephyra knock out Jae’s stool and keep her afloat by a tendril of flaming magic that snaked under the girl’s feet.
Jae’s shoulders shook. “It burns! Please, please stop!”
Dianna fought the urge to vomit when the smell of Jae’s burning flesh hit her.
Zephyra turned to Dianna with a triumphant smile. “Throw down your stone, or I let the girl go.”
No! Sindri cried. Do not let her have a stone.
“I can’t let her kill Jae,” Dianna whispered.
She will kill her either way, Neriphene predicted.
Simeon’s cocoon shook like a hatching larvae, his muffled sobs piercing her heart. Feira lay on the ground beside him, unnervingly still, as if the life had drained out of her when Tumi died. Was she dead?
“She thinks I have only one stone,” Dianna whispered. “I can defeat her.”
No, you can’t, Sindri growled. There are too many mages. Look around you.
She was indeed surrounded. A mage stood at every point of the star, including little Sprout, who was still sobbing, her eyes shining with regret. How cruel of Zephyra to do this to her children.
“I will release her on the count of three.” Zephyra said. “Her brother is next.”
Dianna fumbled with the button on her vest pocket. “I will give you the stone if you promise not to harm Simeon, Jae, and Feira.”
The stones simultaneously gasped.
Zephyra smugly smiled as she held the sobbing Jae up with another rope of fiery flame. “I give you my word no harm will come to Feira and my children if you give me the stone.”
“All your children,” she said through gritted teeth, “including Jae.” She couldn’t believe she was giving a stone to the evil mage, but what choice did she have? She refused to let Simeon’s sister die at the hands of a cruel witch, as her sister had been killed by Madhea.
“Very well.” Zephyra heaved a dramatic sigh. “I will not harm Jae if you give me the stone.”
Dianna, Neriphene chided, you are a fool if you do this.
“I will not let my own vanity or self-preservation prevent me from protecting the innocent from harm,” she whispered the words of her blood promise. “I offer the blood of my body to the Elements in recompense should I break my vow.”
When her cousins went eerily silent, Dianna pulled a stone out of her pocket. “Sorry,” she murmured, “but I cannot break my vow.” She dropped it on the ground.
An ivy tendril raced toward the stone, picking it up and snaking up the platform before droppin
g it in Zephyra’s hand. With a screech and a maniacal laugh, Zephyra cut down Jae’s noose with a bolt of magic. Jae fell to the ground with a thud, clutching her neck.
Zephyra kissed the stone and held it up, laughing and dancing, her eyes shining like golden gems.
When the ivy wrapped around her ankles again, Dianna fell with a curse, her head cracking against the floor. She tried to blast her bonds, but her magic had fled, leaving her feeling like a hollowed-out shell. It snaked around her quickly, binding her arms and legs so tight, her muscles screamed in pain. The last thing she saw before the plant wrapped around her face were Feira’s lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, their golden flames extinguished.
Chapter Thirteen
Alec thanked the Elements that the slaves were fishermen from Aloa-Shay and had sailing experience, though their vessels weren’t quite as big as Eris’s ship. Despite being feverish and tired, he refused to rest until he’d helped the others put the ship in order. He pitched in on all tasks, from mopping up blood to counting the food stores and even taking turns with the oars. It was early dawn by the time he stumbled above deck to check in with Khashka, whom their makeshift crew had elected to serve as captain.
Alec had thought ’twould be a simple matter of turning the ship around and heading back to shore, but then Khashka discovered a map in the captain’s quarters, marking the carnivus waters. Carnivus plants were Eris’s creations, man-eating monsters that rose from the seafloor, some as large as ships, with rows of razor sharp teeth. Alec had heard tales of them from Zier and Dafaur, and until recently had thought them to be fable. But once he’d thought giants and sirens to be only fable, too.
Because they were now on a tight path between carnivus waters, Khashka had said the only way to Aloa-Shay was to stay the course and loop around Eris’s island before returning on the other side. Veering off course even slightly was too dangerous. This meant the journey would take almost seven days rather than a few. The men weren’t too happy about having to spend extra time on Eris’s ship, especially Ryne, who voiced his displeasure so much, Khashka threatened to throw him overboard.
Khashka’s spirit daughter hovered behind her father like a shadow. Morbid curiosity had worn off, but Alec caught himself staring at her more often than he should. ’Twas her fair face that caught his eye. Heat flamed his face when she caught him looking at her, and she pointedly stared at him until he was forced to look away.
Alec went in search of Grim and found him on the stern, leaning against the railing and keeping an eye on his daughter, who had yet to wake.
“How fares she?” he asked before coughing. He worried his sickness would get worse before it got better, and he’d soon be forced to seek nourishment and rest.
“See for yerself.” The dwarf pointed to his daughter’s toe.
Alec squinted at the giant, the sunlight reflecting off her hair and ruddy cheeks making it hard to see much, but then a big toe moved, followed by another.
Grim beamed at him. “Not much longer, and my pearl will wake.”
“That’s wonderful.” He patted Grim’s back, forcing a smile, for he couldn’t help worrying what would happen when the giant woke up.
He turned at a rustling behind him and was surprised to see Khashka, flanked by several men, heading their direction. His jaw dropped when he saw they were armed with spears and poisonous darts.
He nudged Grim. “Something’s wrong.”
The dwarf turned, bushy brows dipping low over his eyes. When he saw the approaching men, he grabbed his axe. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Khashka stopped just out of striking distance, running a hand over his bald head. “Grim, I’m sorry, but the crew and I have had a vote.”
The dwarf arched a brow. “A vote?”
Khashka nodded toward Gorpat’s barge. “We cannot allow the giant to wake.”
Several of Khashka’s men pulled out narrow wooden tubes and loaded them with darts.
“Now you hear me!” Grim swung the axe above his head. “I will not allow you to poke my child full of needles again!”
When the men raised their darts, Alec grabbed Grim’s shoulder. “Hang back, before they put you to sleep.”
“Please listen to reason,” Khashka pleaded, waving at his men to lower their weapons. “Her barge is tethered to us. She could become violent when she wakes and sink the ship.”
Grim puffed up his chest. “I won’t let that happen. I intend to be here when she wakes.”
Khashka shook his head, the weather-worn lines tightening around his eyes. “She will still be in a dream-like state when she wakes. She may not be responsive to you.”
“You cannot expect her to sleep for a week,” Grim cried. “She will starve to death.”
“That’s another concern.” Khashka frowned. “We do not have enough rations for the giant. The crew fears she will eat us when the food runs out.”
“My pearl is a gentle lamb.” Grim vehemently shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. “She wouldn’t dream of eating people.”
Khashka and the other men shared knowing looks. “And yet everyone knows the giant colony northwest of Werewood Forest has a reputation for eating humans,” Khashka said.
Grim’s face turned so red, Alec feared he was about to spew lava out his top, like Eris’s volcanic island. “My pearl is more civilized than any of you sons of sirens!”
The anguish in the dwarf’s eyes was more than Alec could bear. He stepped forward, hoping these men would listen to reason. “I have been traveling with the dwarf and his daughter for several days. Gorpat does have a gentle heart. I am confident she will not attempt to eat any of us.”
“I’m sorry.” Khashka let out a long breath. “The crew has already decided.”
The crew? Alec was part of the crew and yet he had no say? “I did not get a vote.”
“Your vote wouldn’t matter, Alec.” Ryne stepped out from behind Khashka, tightly clutching a dart tube. “The rest of us are unanimous.”
Throughout their journey, Alec had been abused and mistreated by Ryne. His nose still throbbed from the break, yet that pain paled in comparison to the betrayal he felt at that moment.
A war cry erupted from the dwarf’s throat, so powerful it shook Alec to the marrow of his bones. When he swung his axe at the crew’s kneecaps, they ran for cover, screaming for Khashka to give the command to strike.
“Grim, please,” Khashka begged, backing away from the dwarf and nearly stumbling over a loose plank, “I ask you to be reasonable.”
Mari floated between them, glowering at the dwarf while shielding her father. “Put down your weapon, dwarf,” she commanded.
“Everyone put down their weapons,” Alec begged. “Let’s talk this out.”
“Get out of my way!” The dwarf sliced his axe through Mari’s spirit, and she flickered like candlelight in a breeze. “I will cut the slog who dares shoot my pearl.”
“Nay, dwarf.” Ryne chuckled and raced behind a barrel. “We will simply shoot you first.” He blew a dart, which Grim deflected with the head of his axe.
“You stupid blue gnaz!” Grim hollered. “You’ll have to try harder.” He gaped at something on the horizon. “Carnivus!” he screamed, pointing to the starboard side.
Alec followed the direction of Grim’s gaze, but saw only clear sky.
“Think we’d fall for your dwarf trickery?” Ryne laughed.
The ship came to a violent stop. Alec was barely aware of the cacophony of terrified screams around him as he flew forward, smashing into a mast with a crunch. He fell on the deck and rolled onto his side, grasping his aching ribs and gasping for breath. A heavy shadow blotted out the morning sun, and all he saw were rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth.
* * *
Dianna had just enough magic to strike anyone who came near her cocoon, and so she did, zapping three mages when they approached her. Through the thin opening over her eyes, she watched two mortals drape a blanket over Feira’s body, sobbing befor
e carrying her away.
Simeon had chewed a wider hole through the foliage over his mouth, yelling obscenities at his mother and the other mages, who skirted the outside of the circle. Eventually, he was carried away, too, but not before he called to Dianna to burn off her bonds and fight.
Dianna had tried, but ’twas no use. The stone pressed against her heart had gone cold and refused to answer her pleas. She felt the mages’ presence slip away as they left her in the flame circle. They returned only to put more kindling on the fire, otherwise, she was alone in her cocoon with her dark thoughts and fears. What would the mages do to her? Come back and end her life swiftly or leave her in the circle to slowly starve? What would happen to her brothers if she died? Simeon and Jae and the rest of the Kyanite mortals? What about those who lived beneath Ice Mountain? And Lydra, after saving the dragon from Madhea’s cruelty—would Zephyra destroy her or use her as Madhea had once done, forcing her to terrorize mortals?
You should worry, Neriphene scolded. Had you not crossed into the circle and given my sister to that cursed witch, you would not be here now.
“Neriphene,” Dianna pleaded. “Help me break the bonds.”
Neriphene snorted. The daughter of a goddess cannot break the bonds herself?
She struggled against the ivy, and it responded by squeezing her tighter.
Why do you need my help? I, too, am the daughter of a goddess, and I am only stone. My magic is no stronger than yours.
“Obviously, it is,” She grumbled.
Only because you lack confidence in yourself.
“I knocked Tan’yi’na on his back with the help of Sindri’s stone.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I healed mortals in only a few breaths using a goddess stone. Before Sindri, it took me weeks to heal my sick brother.”
Was it Sindri’s magic that helped you or your belief in her magic?
She contemplated Neriphene’s question but had no answer. It had felt as if Sindri’s magic was flowing through her. Could it have been Dianna’s magic as well?
“I have tried and can only manage a few sparks,” she groaned.
Because that’s all you think you can manage.