Jack Staples battled three Oriax and a strange penguin-like creature at the same time. He was careful not to step too far forward for fear of breaking the circle. All five Awakened stood back to back, and though they were terribly outnumbered, so long as the enemy didn’t separate them, they could survive awhile.
Jack saw himself from the corner of his eye. The Jack from the future stood beneath a mountain of raging darkness. Jack and his four friends were merely a decoy. They were to keep the Shadow Souled busy while the future Jack fought the true battle. While Jack was distracted, the penguin pierced his shoulder, but he kicked it away.
Beside Jack, Andreal swung his axes in a deadly maelstrom, cleaving through dark servants like a razor through leather. The giant laughed as he worked his axes. He seemed to enjoy the act of destroying his enemy. Honi stood on Jack’s other side and moved with a serpent’s grace. The old man used his knobby walking stick like a quarterstaff; each time it struck one of the Shadow Souled, golden sparks exploded from both ends and the enemy fell. Jonty and Wild fought behind him, obscured from view, but he could hear them working their weapons.
Jack glanced quickly at the other Jack, who was almost lost to sight as he stood beneath an ever-growing mountain of the Assassin’s blood. Almost all of the dark webbing that covered the town had slithered back to gather in one place, crawling atop itself as it attempted to crush the future Jack.
Jack screamed as a deep gash appeared on his shoulder. He saw the Jack from the past kick a birdlike creature away. He ignored the pain; he needed every ounce of energy if he was to stand against the torrent of hatred and misery. The mountain of blood grew ever larger. This is what he had hoped for. He needed to draw every last drop of the Assassin’s blood into one place.
Dark wind tore at Jack as hate-filled barbs pierced his skin. Hundreds of emotions raged inside him, but for each one he tried to offer the opposite response. For anger he offered forgiveness; for cynicism, faith. A wave of depression rolled over him, and he searched for a joy-filled memory.
Voices erupted from within the gale. “IT WAS YOUR FAULT YOUR MOTHER DIED,” they screamed.
Unbearable guilt weighed down on him, but Jack remembered the look on his mother’s face as she saved his life. “Ah, my Jack. Not even death can keep me from my children. Now, don’t come back here again. You cannot save me. I will always love you.” He embraced the memory and shouted at the wind, “My mother loved me enough to give her life so I might live!”
The darkness shrieked and sank into Jack’s bones. Outside the mountain, the band of Awakened fought the Shadow Souled. What kind of despicable person could follow the Assassin? The moment the thought formed, the mountain of blood thickened.
The Shadow Souled are the reason for so much of the pain in the world. He wanted to kill them all. The weight of the mountain became unbearable, and Jack crumbled to his knees, but he didn’t care; his anger felt justified. Of course it’s right to hate the Shadow Souled!
A voice pierced the growing darkness. It was still and small and came from somewhere deep inside his heart. “No. The dark servants have been tricked into serving the Assassin. It is not right to hate them!”
Jack lunged upward so he was standing once again. “No!” he shouted as he raised his arms. “I don’t hate them!” He thought of Jonty Dobson. The poor boy had grown up with brothers who were cruel and a mother who was far crueler. Yes, the dark servants were fighting for the wrong side, but they were not his enemy. They were his brothers and sisters, and he loved them.
The darkness shrieked, the shadowed barbs suddenly finding no purchase.
“There are three things you must always remember,” Mrs. Dumphry had written. “Three things that will guide you—forgiveness, mercy, and most of all, love.” It was the only clear thought he had. Amid the misery and depression, the rage and self-pity; amid the crushing sadness, Jack heard it again.
“LOVE!” This time the voice had come from his heart, and Jack knew who it belonged to. It was the voice of the poet. It was the voice of the Author, and he was speaking to Jack in the midst of the battle.
“YOU ARE NOTHING!” the darkness screamed.
“YOU WILL NEVER BE GREAT,” it raged.
“YOU WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH.”
“YOU’LL LET EVERYONE DOWN.”
“YOUR LIFE IS MEANINGLESS!”
“YOU WERE A MISTAKE!”
“NOBODY LOVES YOU!”
“IT WOULD BE BETTER IF YOU HADN’T BEEN BORN!”
Jack Staples squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “I choose love!” he screamed. He raised his arms high and shouted, “I am the Child of Prophecy, and in the name of the Author, I command you to leave!”
The blood howled as Jack placed both hands on Ashandar’s hilt and unsheathed the blade, thrusting it into the ground. He collapsed to his knees as the shadows shriveled and dissipated. The dark servants halted their attack on the other Jack and his friends. Every last one stood silently, watching him with awe-filled eyes.
“Impossible!” the Shadule shrieked. “No weapon can stand against the blood of our master!”
“I didn’t need a weapon, Shadule,” Jack said, drained of energy. “Hear me!” He stood stiffly. “Any dark servant who wishes to join the Awakened may do so now. We don’t care what you’ve done or who you are; we will embrace you as our brothers and sisters. But if you will not forsake the Assassin, then I command you to run. In the name of the Author, leave this town and don’t look back.”
Throughout the street, hundreds of men, women, and children dropped their weapons. They stood looking at Jack as if unsure what to do next. Others whimpered as they turned and ran blindly away from Ballylesson.
“No!” the Shadule shrieked. “Kill them! I command you to kill the Awakened.”
When none of the former dark servants moved, the creature hissed. Its wings unfurled from its body, and it rose into the air. “This is nothing, boy! The Shadow Lord will destroy this world, and your victory will soon be forgotten.”
Honi limped forward and thrust his staff into the air. An explosion of colored sparks shot at the Shadule and struck the creature in the chest. Honi sent more colored streaks toward the Shadule until it finally shrieked and disappeared into the sky.
For a long moment, no one moved. It was Doctor Falvey who finally raised a fist to the air. “All hail our new king, Jack Staples!” he shouted. Before Jack could do anything to stop them, the ragtag group of former dark servants echoed the doctor’s response. “All hail the king, Jack Staples!” One by one they dropped to their knees.
Wild wore an amused look as Andreal let out a booming laugh. Jack felt his cheeks grow warm.
“I feel strange,” the Jack from the past said. He looked at his hand curiously. “I think we’ve caught up with the—”
The Jack from the past faded into nothing as the past and present became one.
Chapter 18
Fear in the Air
Alexia’s eyes kept shifting to her mother. She couldn’t believe it. Her mother was alive! She was filthy and dressed in rags and looked far older than Alexia remembered, but it was her. She hung facedown, parallel to the ground, with cords wrapped around each limb. She was unconscious, and there was a pale, almost silvery sheen to her skin, but she was breathing.
“You’re doing great!” Alexia called to Juno. Her friend had climbed up the distorted statue of the Assassin and was slowly traversing the ceiling.
“Please don’t fall, please don’t fall, please don’t fall,” Juno whispered as she moved from one spike to the next. Alexia had wanted to rescue her mother, but even with the help of her Soulprint, it would have been impossible to cross the floor. So it had fallen to Juno or Josiah. Josiah had grudgingly agreed that Juno was the better climber, so off she’d gone.
“Whatever you do, be careful of the—” Alexia’s breath caught as Juno slid do
wn a particularly long skewer. She neared the razor-tipped bottom and placed her feet against it, then leaped away and grabbed hold of Alexia’s dangling mother. Both women swung back and forth as Juno pulled herself up so she was sitting on Madeleine Dreager’s back.
“You did brilliantly,” Alexia called. “I don’t think I could have done better.”
“My Soulprint may not be as strong as yours, but my balance is better than most,” Juno said as she climbed up the ropes connected to the ceiling. She reached the top and began unspooling the excess rope. In a matter of seconds, she’d lowered the rope so it was hanging just out of Alexia’s reach.
“I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news,” Josiah called from his perch on the statue’s hand, “but the Assassin is approaching the palace! I think he must have dealt with the Myzer-whatevers already.”
Alexia wanted to kick something. They were cutting it close. “We need to do this now,” she called up to Juno. “It won’t take him long to get here.”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Juno called. She’d looped the dangling rope around her leg, then slid back down to Alexia’s mother. Juno swung the rope over to Alexia so she could grab hold of it.
“Got it!” Alexia called.
Juno unsheathed a knife from inside her boot. She pulled Madeleine Dreager close and then sliced the ropes binding her to the ceiling.
Alexia’s mother dropped into Juno’s arms. Juno ever so slowly began to slide down her rope until she hovered just above Alexia.
“Are you ready?” Juno grunted.
“Ready!” Alexia said through clenched teeth.
Juno thrust Madeleine Dreager toward the throne. Alexia let go of the rope and caught her mother as Juno swung outward. Alexia quickly laid her mother on the throne, then turned to reach out a hand. Juno was swinging back toward the throne. Alexia grabbed her hand and pulled her to safety.
“Thank you,” Alexia gasped into Juno’s ear as she wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you for risking your life to save my mother.”
“I’m glad we found her,” Juno said. “Far too many of us have lost our mothers.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Josiah called again, “but won’t the Assassin be here any minute? Mightn’t it be best if we save the hugging for later?”
Alexia quickly tied two loops in the bottom of the rope, where she and Juno could place their feet. She then lifted her mother so she was carrying her like a sack of potatoes.
Alexia’s hands shook as both girls placed a foot inside the loops. “Are you ready?” she asked.
“Ready,” Juno said.
“One …” Alexia gripped the rope with one hand and her mother with the other. “Two …” She took a deep breath. “Three!” The girls stepped from the throne and swung out over the barbs.
They soared past the grotesque statue of the Assassin toward the opening to the balcony. Both girls pushed with their feet to gain momentum. Back past Josiah and the statue of the Assassin and over the throne, then back to the balcony again, each swing going just a little higher and farther. The thin rope creaked and groaned.
Josiah watched the girls swing past again and again. “Are you sure it will hold?” he called.
“We’re out of options,” Alexia shouted as they swung high above the throne. “This is it. You need to jump!” They swung back past the statue of the Assassin. “Now!”
“Do it!” Juno yelled at the same time.
Josiah leaped from his perch and landed on Juno’s back. The rope swung toward the balcony, and all three children screamed as they passed above the gleaming razors and dry bones. As they neared the top of the arc, Juno cut the rope to send them tumbling to the balcony below.
Alexia groaned as she landed flat on her stomach with her mother on her back.
“No!” a voice roared from somewhere inside the throne room.
Alexia froze. The Assassin had come.
“Impossible!” he screamed.
Alexia peeked through a small crack in the balcony. She shuddered at the sight of the Assassin standing at the far end of the chamber. He was hunched over with one hand pressed against the fresh wound in his side. His fiery eyes were fixed on the ceiling, where Madeleine Dreager had been prisoner only minutes earlier. Alexia held her breath as the Assassin scanned the throne room.
Belial had changed in the hours since she’d last seen him. His skin hung limp, and dark sweat poured from him, puddling at his feet. But mostly it was the darkness—waves of doom pulsed from him. The shadowed gloom pulled at her vision, threatening to steal all light from the world. She turned away and leaned against the balcony. She was too afraid to look on the creature any longer.
“I will find you!” The Assassin’s voice resounded above them. “I will destroy everything you love. Then I will feast on your souls.”
She would have shrieked if she hadn’t been too afraid to open her mouth. Impossibly, the Assassin was leaning against the balcony. All he needed to do was look down, and he would see Alexia and her friends. Yet his attention was given to the horizon.
“The end has come, and the prophecy demands it. The Children of Prophecy will die at my hands. And as their light fades, this world will be reformed into my image!”
Alexia didn’t move, not even to breathe.
“It is time for the world to see who they truly serve,” the Assassin rasped. Then the demon let out a beastly roar as the sound of something ripping filled Alexia’s ears. She cracked an eye to see a dark cloud explode from the throne room. It was blacker than any pitch, and as it rocketed across the sky, it swallowed the light of the world. The moon and stars disappeared, and still the darkness spread, ripping across the horizon. The only light to break through the darkness came from Alexia’s and Jack’s stars.
“The end has come. My final victory is here!”
Alexia trembled at the wheezing voice. It was as if the words came from a mouth unaccustomed to speech. The demon let out a gurgling roar and leaped from the throne room, quickly disappearing into the darkened sky. It was too dark to see clearly, but whatever was flying away was far from human.
From horizon to horizon, the sky was cloaked in shadowed gloom, and Alexia knew it was still spreading. She remembered Elion’s words. “It is the Assassin’s Shadow. It is his essence. It is fear and hatred, pride and jealousy. And those who bathe in its darkness must fight to stay pure.”
For a long moment, no one said a word.
“We need to get out of here,” Juno whispered. “I don’t know what just happened, but I’ve never been so afraid in my life.”
Alexia nodded. She felt it too. The sky radiated fear. Each time she inhaled, she felt dread growing in her chest. “I don’t think we have any choice but to climb down,” she said. “We’ll never be able to cross the throne room.”
Josiah crawled to the edge of the balcony and peered over. “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse,” he muttered.
Alexia tied her mother to her back and was first over the ledge. She wanted to show Josiah and Juno where to place their hands and feet. As she began the climb down, Alexia couldn’t help smiling. She didn’t know what came next. She didn’t even know if they’d make it safely out of the city, but at the moment, she didn’t care. The Last Battle had begun, and the end of the world might come. But her mother was alive.
Chapter 19
Two Days from Now
“Arthur, you need to wake up. It’s time to go.”
Arthur heard the voice but didn’t care. He hated being woken from a good dream more than anything. In his dream he’d been having dinner with his mother and father. They were sitting around the table laughing. Though he’d only just awoken, the dream was already slipping from his mind. What were we laughing at?
“Arthur, I know you’re tired, but we need to leave. Something evil is coming,” the girl’s voice said.
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br /> He refused to open his eyes. Father was telling a story about a pig that wandered into a butcher’s shop. And the pig said something.
“I don’t know,” the girl said. “We may not have any choice but to carry him.”
“Let me find Eric,” someone else said.
The butcher was surprised by the pig in his shop … Arthur scoured the memory. He bolted upright and threw his arms wide. “Then the pig says, ‘I just tried some bacon, and I’ll take as much as you’ve got’!” Arthur had to wipe tears of laughter from his eyes.
“No need to get Eric,” Sage said slowly. “Though we may have need of a healer.”
Arthur couldn’t stop chuckling. “The pig wanted to eat bacon … Don’t you get it?”
“I’m afraid not.” Sage placed a hand against Arthur’s forehead. “And we may not have time to discuss it right now. We let you sleep as long as we could, but something evil is coming, and we need to get ready to defend ourselves.”
Arthur sighed as he stood and stretched tired muscles. He could feel the Poet’s Coffer in his jacket pocket. The box was warm against his chest, and the longer he carried it, the surer he was that it was changing him somehow. He felt … bolder. “Mrs. Dumphry once told me that if we couldn’t find the time to laugh, we might as well just tell the Assassin he’s won. Except when she said it, it sounded smarter than that.” Arthur checked the knives at his belt. “All right, then, shall we go see about this evil?”
Sage shook her head. “You’re different than you were just a few days ago. Where did you find this sudden burst of confidence?”
Arthur blushed. “I suppose I’ve grown tired of being afraid all the time. And I’m tired of always being looked after. Seeing as I’m on the Council of Seven, I need to be the one who’s looking after others.”
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