Illusion: Book Four of the Grimoire Saga

by S. M. Boyce

  The stairs opened onto a massive room, its vaulted ceiling curving overhead in stone arches. Floor-to-ceiling windows on the far wall betrayed only the dark night sky beyond. Unlit chandeliers dangled from the roof, their candles covered in spent wax. In the blue shadows of night, Kara couldn’t quite tell what the chamber would have been—a ballroom, perhaps. A layer of dust covered the floor.

  Energy pulsed beneath her skin, begging to be let free. She would indulge it.

  The green glow brightened. Sparks danced across her arms with each beat of her heart. Their crackle burst through the air like thunder in Kara’s ears. She relished it. She walked up each remaining step to the rhythm of her pulse, using the cadence as an agent of calm.

  When she reached the second step, Deidre drew her sword and swung. The Xlijnughl jumped to the ground and ran off. Kara didn’t react. She didn’t slow or duck out of the way. Instead, a flare of green light bubbled on its own, deflecting the blade with a clang. Deidre cursed and released the sword, hugging her hands to her chest as if she’d been stung.

  Pleasure ripped through Kara at seeing her enemy in pain. She smiled.

  Calm.

  Her smile faded. She listened again for the crackling thunder of the sparks racing across her skin. It hummed, ready for her next attack.

  She aimed her fingers for Deidre’s chest. Sparks arced through the air and struck her in the abdomen. Deidre screamed and stumbled backward. She fell but rolled and pushed herself to her feet. The isen narrowed her eyes, glaring, but she flinched. She held a hand to her stomach.

  Kara shot another burst of sparks toward Deidre. The woman rolled out of the way. Sparks bounced off the stone floor. Deidre summoned a beam of light into her hand—the same she’d used in Carden’s study.

  Fear pulsed in Kara’s stomach. A whisper of the remembered agony swept through her. Her shoulder ached with the memory. Her glow brightened. Flares of energy bubbled along her arms, lashing at the air in a frenzy.

  Peace.

  Kara tensed, latching onto her focus. Only the present moment existed. The fear withdrew, however slightly. The flares receded.

  Deidre loosed the beam of light. Kara stepped to the left. It sailed by her head. The crash of falling stones rumbled behind her.

  Deidre threw two more within seconds of each other. Kara dodged one. The other struck her bicep. An all-too-familiar anguish ripped through her body and into her neck. She cursed and fell to one knee, her arm tight to her body. Deidre laughed, but the chuckle faded.

  The pain receded. Kara examined the wound. Green light swarmed the area. Her blood pooled, clotting in seconds. The hole shrank. She clenched her fingers to test how the wound healed. They obeyed without issue.

  A smile crept across her lips, but she suppressed the glee.

  In a flash, Deidre dove for her sword and stood, blade in hand. She lunged. Kara listened to her body, letting it duck and weave out of the way. The green flares of energy swarmed around her. She tried directing them toward Deidre, but they rarely listened. One twitched in the direction she wanted it to go, but it didn’t follow through.

  A flare broke free and sailed toward Deidre’s head. The woman’s eyes went wide. She twisted aside. A clump of her hair remained in the line of fire. It dissolved into ash on contact with the light.

  She cursed and backed away.

  A sinister joy built in Kara’s throat like a howl waiting to be released. Yet again, she pushed it aside. Yet again, it barely obeyed. The pause allowed Deidre to back up farther, but it was more important for Kara to remain calm.

  Another flare of Kara’s energy bubbled out toward Deidre. It missed her and dissolved into the air.

  Deidre summoned lightning and shot it toward Kara. It hit. Kara cursed. Her stomach burned. The hair on her arms stood on end. She faltered, stumbling. The energy should have blocked the attack—it couldn’t possibly hit her. Deidre shot another stream of lightning into Kara’s chest. It, too, hit. A third bolt struck her in the head. Kara screamed, splinters of pain fracturing through her mind.

  Anger boiled in her gut, sweeping aside the veil of calm she’d maintained thus far.

  Three flares of light burst from her, sailing toward Deidre. The woman ducked two of them, but the third brushed her arm. She shrieked and fell. A gaping hole in her arm bled onto her shirt. She clutched it, brows furrowed in pain.

  Hatred pushed on the edges of Kara’s mind. She’d fought it back as much as she could. Her control slipped. A wave of loathing bubbled through her gut. In seconds, she stood over her enemy. She reached for Deidre’s neck, hands clamping around it with strength Kara had never before experienced.

  Deidre choked, voice cut off as Kara strangled her.

  “Why are you this way?” Kara seethed.

  You can find out, the first Vagabond said.

  Right. Thanks to her connection with the first Vagabond, Kara had one weapon she’d almost forgotten amid all this chaos—her ability to see a person’s most influential memory. Perhaps she could use the knowledge to distract Deidre long enough to end her.

  Deidre scratched at Kara’s face. One nail drew blood above Kara’s eyebrow.

  Kara tightened her grip. “What made you the creature you are, woman?”

  The room stilled. No one spoke. Time slowed. Deidre quieted in Kara’s grip, and Kara’s muscles tensed such that she couldn’t move, either. The floor splintered, the stone breaking into slivers of white light that wriggled into the air. The walls, the stairwell—everything dissolved into patches of white streaks. Kara’s vagabond gift took over, stealing her away as she dove into Deidre’s mind.

  Kara would finally know what drove this woman to madness. And then, this woman would finally die.

  Braeden hesitated at the bottom of the staircase as the two women fought above him. Flick still sat on his shoulder. Kara’s pet trembled, ears pinned back as he cuddled Braeden’s neck.

  The women yelled. Glass shattered. The stone walls of his castle shook with the force of their battle. He gritted his teeth. How useless, to stand at the bottom of a staircase while a war raged in every direction. He couldn’t go upstairs for fear of setting Kara off or distracting her from the fight of her life. But he should do something. This might have even been a good time to run to the throne room and retrieve the banner. End the war while she occupied Deidre.

  He shifted his weight, ready to order Flick to teleport them away, but he paused.

  He’d almost lost Kara once today. She’d saved him so many times, gave beauty to his life, gave him meaning. Now, she was in a life-or-death battle with the woman who nearly killed her once today. The battle could end any second. If Deidre got the upper hand at any point—if his presence could somehow mean saving Kara from death a second time—he couldn’t leave.

  With a groan, he leaned against the wall and rubbed his eyes, ears tuned to the scuffle above him. He’d save his people, but first, he’d do whatever he could to protect his woman.

  A muffled boom shook the air, evidence of the lives lost outside. Whether or not he’d made the right choice, he would stick with it. He couldn’t live with anything less. If something happened to Kara while he raced off, he’d never forgive himself.

  As the minutes wore on, he did all he could do: listen and repeat the same, silent wish:

  Please let her survive.

  White slivers of light wove together, bringing to life Deidre’s most influential memory as they rebuilt whatever moment in time formed the woman Deidre was today. A window appeared. The corners of a room boxed Kara in. Beams of light curved into a portly man’s stomach and braided themselves into the hair of a middle-aged woman. Bit by bit, the moment that shaped Deidre’s future bled into view.

  Kara couldn’t wait for this one. She wished she could fast forward. Though she rarely wanted to see these memories—she invaded the privacy of those who suffered her gift—she had to know what made this woman so evil.

  I’ve missed you, Bear, a man’s voice said in her ear.<
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  If she’d been in her body, Kara’s throat would have tightened. She knew that voice.

  Dad.

  Kara had invaded Deidre’s mind, and she’d found her father.

  The white wisps of the memory darted every which way, dissolving the scene. As the world unraveled, a shiver chased up Kara’s spine. Ice spread along her fingers like frost. The white light spun, faster and faster until it became a steady glow. It wouldn’t fade. She cringed, eyes burning with the brightness, but she’d retreated into Deidre’s mind completely. There were no eyelids to block out the light, no body to wrestle into submission.

  Dad! she screamed, not even sure if he could hear her.

  Kara, please, a voice said. A different voice. The first Vagabond.

  Not now, Vagabond. I need to find Dad!

  No, you need to control yourself!

  A white hot pain shot through her mind. She cringed. The agony ripped through her, shredding her as if it had claws. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out. Another fiery pain shot through her, and another. Pulses of white flashed, keeping time with every shot of agony that tore through her mind. Deidre was putting up one hell of a fight.

  Dad! she screamed again.

  She had to find him. She had to apologize, to make things right, to make sure he was okay.

  A tendril of green light snaked past, smearing her vision with a white streak as it rushed her. Deep within her core, something snapped. The jolt broke through her defenses. Her grip on the magic pummeling through her loosened. A burst of green shattered the darkness. Another followed. Over and over again, green light tore through her vision, blinding her as she fought to find her father. A scream built in her throat. In the darkness of Deidre’s mind, Kara sensed her fingers shaking. Her abdomen tightened. Her back arched.

  Bit by bit, she returned to her body.

  A searing pain tore through her mind, ripping apart the last threads of her control. White burned along her vision. Splinters of agony shattered her from the inside out.

  She screamed, and a force like a bomb hit her in the chest. Her world went dark.

  Kara whimpered. Her body ached. She set her hand on the floor, but her elbow buckled under even that much weight. Her body twisted, and she fell shoulder-first onto the stone surface.

  Bit by bit, her senses returned. Wind sailed past, ruffling through her hair. Cold. It carried the chill of snow. Smoke blended with each breath, charring her nose. She coughed. Her throat stung.

  She opened her eyes. Nothing but blurs. Her fingers pressed into her eye lids, body moving in part out of instinct rather than on her command. She shook her head, trying to get her bearings.

  Dad.

  Hope burned in Kara’s throat as tears stung her eyes. Dad. He’d said hello and then gone silent. He was still trapped in that devil woman, that—

  Deidre.

  She bolted upright. Her head swam, and she set her palms on the stone to let it settle.

  The memory. The fear. Fighting to escape.

  A gust of wind blew by. Her hair snapped against her cheeks, stinging her with its force. She covered her face with her arm and peeked around it. Two of the ballroom’s walls were gone, exposing the night beyond. Mountains crowded the horizon, gray silhouettes on a dark sky. A black forest canopy filled the space between like a sea of dark leaves. Rubble lined the ballroom floor. Shards of glass lay beneath every window, the remaining panes littered with cracks. Lingering glass jutted like spears in the window pane, waiting for a victim to touch them and bleed.

  Her mouth hung open.

  Something hissed, the slow release of air almost a growl in the quiet ballroom. Kara flinched. A dozen feet away, Deidre’s gray Xlijnughl stood on a pile of rubble, ears pinned against its head. It snapped at the air and, with a sharp crack, disappeared.

  Kara paused, uncertain as to what just happened, until she noticed the body under the stones. Two black boots and a charred hand with broken nails jutted from the debris. She pushed herself to her feet for a better view, only to fall back on her hands. She limped toward the figure, foot gaining strength with each step. No doubt her body healing again, recharging after the sudden release of nearly all her energy.

  Details of the body came into view the closer Kara came. A woman. Black hair pooled behind her head. Puddles of crimson liquid—blood. The once-pale skin now sported black char, as if she’d been cooked. Thin trails of smoke curled from singes in her clothes. She stank of a burning forest.

  Deidre.

  Kara sank onto her heels, hands in her lap. She stared at the fallen isen, barely blinking as she tried to process whatever happened. She raked her memory, searching for an answer. Everything swirled in her mind, fragments of thoughts and emotion until one truth hit her with a painful pang of clarity.

  “I did this,” Kara said under her breath.

  She’d lost control. Despite her best efforts, she’d succumbed to her power. It had used her, and she was lucky no one—

  Braeden.

  With a jolt of panic, she spun, eyes wide as she searched for the love of her life. Piles of rubble covered much of the floor, but no other bodies appeared. She pushed herself to her feet and ran for the stairs. She stumbled, one foot catching on the other in her panic. Her face hit the floor. She yelped and stood again, legs strong enough now to hold her.

  “Kara?” Braeden asked. His voice carried from the stairwell.

  Relief washed through her, so powerful she fell to her knees. Joy consumed her, eating away at her every thought. He was alive. Tears pricked her eyes. She held her head in her hands and smiled.

  Too many emotions, Kara. Remain calm, the first Vagabond said in her mind.

  She shook her head, unable to answer just yet.

  Each emotion is taking over your body. They’re distracting you. Contain yourself, or you will quickly lose control again. Please.

  She sat on her heels and rubbed her temples. She took deep breaths, removing herself from the ballroom. She retreated into her mind.

  Peace.

  Think of happy things: Braeden and his mischievous grin; Twin, hugging her with the strength of a bear; Flick chirping in her ear.

  Calm.

  She would master herself.

  Focus.

  With a shaky breath, she stood. Her feet wobbled once more but held. She took slow steps toward Deidre’s body and knelt. She held her fingers to the woman’s neck, searching for a pulse. Nothing.

  Deidre was dead.

  Kara stared at the corpse, waiting for an emotion. She expected relief or perhaps joy. Guilt, even—she had murdered someone yet again, after all. But the same anxious tension that had plagued her the entire day remained. When the world needed her to control herself, she’d let the magic loose and destroyed a chunk of Braeden’s castle.

  She bit her lip. While she hadn’t done what she meant to—control herself through the battle and end Deidre with a sword—she’d still killed the vile woman. She’d done exactly what she meant to. It didn’t matter if things didn’t go according to plan. At long last, she had succeeded—and all of Ourea shared the victory along with her.

  A wave of exhaustion fell on her like a blanket, suffocating even the anxiety. Her head hung a little lower, heavy. A green glow pulsed underneath her skin, dull but present. None of this seemed real. Part of her hoped she would have seen her father one more time, perhaps right as Deidre died. With the isen dead, her father’s soul was supposedly free—but she didn’t have proof. At least she got to hear his voice one last time. A cricket chirped in the quiet room, its shrill chorus blasting through Kara’s mind. She frowned. Disappointment weighed on her neck. She wanted closure. She wanted forgiveness, but Dad would never be able to give it to her.

  Movement vibrated through the air. She could sense Braeden walking closer, taking slow and loud steps toward her, like she was a horse he didn’t want to spook. A pang of annoyance shot through her, but she quelled it. Of course he feared her a little—look at what she’d done.
However better off the world was without Deidre, Kara was still a killer. At least this wasn’t like her experience in Kirelm. No innocents had died this time.

  He reached for her. Seconds later, warm hands wrapped around her arms. He kissed the back of her head. She sighed with relief. His touch released the tension.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I want to go home.”

  “I know, but we’re not done yet.”

  She huffed. Right—between releasing the banner over the warring yakona outside and Evelyn’s attack on Hillside, she had more than enough to keep her busy. Her eyes stung. She rubbed them. A wave of exhaustion rolled over her. She longed to find a bed and curl up. To sleep for days. Hide.

  Focus, Kara. Don’t let this energy drain you completely.

  She nodded and rubbed her temples. The first Vagabond was right. She needed to keep a clear head. More importantly, she had to warn Twin about the upcoming invasion.

  “Braeden, let’s stop this war. Take Flick and release the banner while I warn Twin about the Ayavelians.”

  He nodded, his stubble rubbing against her scalp, and leaned in. His lips brushed her forehead. She remained still and closed her eyes, savoring the touch. His fingers caressed her cheek, so gentle it calmed her racing heart.

  He backed away. Cold seeped into the patches of her skin he’d held seconds before. A crack broke through the room. Kara flinched. A flare of green light blossomed from her body, responding to her flare of surprise and lashing out at the sound. Thankfully, Braeden and Flick were long gone.

  She took a deep breath. Without her wrist guard, she didn’t know how long she had before she lost control. She set her hands on her hips and closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, but her heart raced on.

  Peace. Calm. Focus.

  She pulled in another deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the effort, but panic hummed in her chest. She couldn’t force this calm for much longer.