by S. M. Boyce
Now or never.
She knocked on the wall, and prepared to launch into her best impression of a helpless damsel. After a bit of research, she had discovered the two new guards in the tower would be harder to dupe. These elves were torturers who enjoyed the pain and suffering of others, and assigning them guard duty had been a panicked move on Luak’s part.
He wanted guarantees that no one would engage the castle’s defenses.
When the door didn’t open, she smacked her hand against the wall again. Voice as breathless as possible, she added a shrill edge for effect. “Argo! Abson! You must help King Luak!”
She hated to use Luak’s stolen title, but she had to lie to convince these morons to open this stupid door.
This time the secret passageway slid open to a scowling face. His eyes wandered her body. “What is it, woman?”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathed, as though delighted to see the atrocious face with the massive scar over its mouth. “Luak has been attacked in his bedroom! I barely escaped, and you’re the nearest guards. You must help him!”
“How convenient,” a second voice said. Another elf sat in a chair by the golden portal, arms behind his head as he lazily reclined.
“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, stretching her breathless voice as much as she could.
The elf sneered. “Suspicious enchanted boulders are rolling toward the castle, and our king happens to be attacked in his charmed and secure bedroom?”
“It seems more like a setup than a rescue,” the first elf said with a wicked grin.
Fine.
Regina dropped the breathless act and smirked. “You’re quite right, gentlemen. Now, goodbye.”
“What—”
In an instant, the chair fell through the floor as a secret trapdoor opened in the stone. The elf screamed the whole way down, and Regina didn’t care to know what would become of him.
The first elf grabbed her sleeve seconds before a second door opened on the far wall. Vines wrapped around him, yanking him with unholy power into the darkness beyond. As he was dragged into the abyss, his grip on her gown tightened. The threads ripped and Regina lost her balance.
One of the vines smacked his hand sharply, causing him to release his grip on her as they retreated. She leaned against the wall, heart pounding, as the second door slid shut, cutting off his screams.
A new chair appeared in the hole in the floor, sealing off the trapdoor once more.
“Hello, my darling Lady Spry,” the castle’s voice boomed.
She smiled warmly. “Hello, Fairhaven. Shall we get to work?”
“Absolutely,” the mask said with a wide grin. “Let’s wreak some havoc, my dear.”
CHAPTER 26
Victoria waited with bated breath.
With a low rumble, the final golem rolled into place. As it settled, silence crashed over the streets. The tightly curled balls of rock now encircled the palace, evenly spaced every twenty feet or so. Luak’s mercenaries flooded the roads, swords drawn as they nervously studied the strange orbs.
Victoria waited alone in the shadows in an alley nearby. Audrey and Diesel had snuck over to the nearest two golems, while Fyrn had found high ground from which to cast his spells.
But she waited in the alley, back pressed to the brick wall and her full attention focused on the king’s balcony. It had been King Bornt’s favorite place from which to observe his people from a safe distance, and Luak would likely use it as well. It offered a secure view of the street below, and he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty.
A few of the guards began to prod the rocks, murmuring among themselves. Apparently no one here had seen golems before.
Thank goodness! Surprise was still on their side.
“Come on,” she muttered quietly under her breath, eyes still zeroed in on the balcony.
After a few moments, the doors swung open and a frustrated Luak strode onto the platform. He grabbed the railing and glowered down at the streets.
Victoria smirked. Finally.
“Luak!” she shouted.
She strode into the street, and the soldiers around her backed slowly away. To her relief, they watched her with fear. She had expected as much after seeing their faces in her last fight with Luak, but it had still been a risk.
But she had to lure Luak into the open.
Luak chuckled darkly. “One little warrior all by herself. Have the others grown bored with you?”
She smirked. “Not quite.”
With a mighty leap, she jumped onto the nearest golem sphere and snapped her fingers. The ground rumbled beneath her as the golems came to life, slowing standing at her silent command. Her golem stretched, the smooth surface beneath her feet unfurling until she stood on its shoulders. It rose into the air, towering over the soldiers below, and she stood at eye level with the Light Elf she so dearly hated.
His arrogant smile fell and he stepped backward, jaw dropping as the golems surrounded the castle. The uncertainty on his face had been well worth the wait.
“Attack!” Victoria yelled.
***
Audrey held onto her golem’s ear as all hell broke loose around her.
Spells whizzed through the air, streaks of blue and green and red like fireworks that ended in screams. Her golem acted on Victoria’s command and carried Audrey toward the palace, where its fist connected with the wall and crashed through the stone.
Lady Spry had assured them that the witches and wizards could magic the rubble together again, but it still stung to destroy something so beautiful.
Audrey gripped her Atlantean crystal, balancing it in the hand that held the golem’s ear for balance, and aimed at the mercenaries surging around the golem’s feet. Several ogres rammed into its ankles, trying to knock it over.
Not today.
With the full strength of her Atlantean power, Audrey cast a thick bolt of white energy at the golem’s feet. Screams followed, and several ogres in Luak’s black military garb fell flat on their backs.
Heart thumping, adrenaline racing, Audrey steeled herself for the battle. This would not be easy, but not a single person in Victoria’s army would surrender.
Their choices were win or die, and Audrey planned on winning.
***
In the castle’s defense room, Regina Spry cast spells left and right in an effort to stay on top of the utter chaos within the palace walls.
“A gaggle of roughly sixty elves are battering the east exit with their magic,” the palace said calmly.
“How long can you hold them off?”
“My dear, nothing can stop me. The enchantments on my walls will keep them at bay.”
She nodded, grateful the castle knew its own power so well. She had mended it from time to time, sure, but she didn’t know its abilities as intimately as the king would have. “Route them south.”
“I will send them through the endless tunnel. They’ll run forever, thinking they’re almost there the entire time.”
“Good, good,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow as she studied the next glimmering portal that popped into existence before her. At least forty ogres barreled into a broad set of double doors, the only ones separating them from the madness outside.
The palace chuckled. “I have seventeen sets of doors down that hall. Every time they destroy one, another will appear. Those ogres will never break through.”
Regina sighed with relief. “You truly are impressive, Castle Fairhaven.”
“That I am, Lady Spry.”
“How many have we contained within the castle?”
“Twelve hundred are trapped in various enchanted tunnels and by doors. Another six hundred are trying to get out through other exits, but I’ll head them off. Roughly a thousand escaped into the streets.”
“The rebels outside are still outnumbered,” she said, grimacing.
“Oh, what do we have here?” A portal appeared before her of the royal balcony, where Luak stood with a drawn sword and circl
ed Victoria.
“It seems we have the beginning of the end,” Regina said softly, more to herself than to answer the castle’s question.
The castle chuckled. “My dear, I always thought I had too much of a flair for the dramatic, but you put me to shame.”
Regina shook her head, the tip of her wand glowing as she zoomed in on the fight between Victoria and Luak. “We have to help her.”
“Considering where they are, I can’t do much. Not many defenses were set up in that area. A poisoned arrow here, an enchanted saw there. Nothing Luak can’t overcome, and they might hit the girl. That’s my future queen?”
“It is,” Lady Spry said breathlessly. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”
CHAPTER 27
Victoria swung her sword, her magical shield in her left hand. Luak brought his blade down hard at her head, but she lifted the shield and blocked him effortlessly.
Once again she faced off with the elf who had the one thing she wanted in all the world, which was Fairhaven.
Once again she faced off with the elf who wanted to rip the powerful Rhazdon Artifacts from her dead body.
Their swords clashed as he tested her, and with every blow his immense strength challenged hers. With every grunt, every huff, every groan, they came within inches of slicing each other’s heads off.
They were both always a second too late, always an inch away from a fatal blow.
Finally she had matched him, but she needed more.
She had to win.
Time lost its meaning in their deadly waltz. Blow after blow, strike after strike, they dodged each other. Occasionally his fist connected with her jaw and sent her flying, and other times she landed a blow to his stomach or neck, knocking him to his knees.
He had power she didn’t understand and magical artifacts that rivaled her own. Whereas ogres felt like they weighed nothing and no one else could shake her, Luak could throw her clear across the street.
Luak grabbed her collar, hands bunching on the fabric as he lifted her off her feet. She cursed under her breath, summoning a dagger from her Rhazdon Artifacts and swiping at his face. The tip sliced open his forehead as he threw her off the balcony.
She landed hard on the cobblestones below, a crater all that remained of the road after her fall. Taking a wheezy breath, she glared up at the balcony and stood, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth as she waited for him to join her.
He obliged.
When he landed, he rolled to absorb the blow. The trip would have killed most creatures, but it had been obvious for quite a while that neither she nor Luak were normal.
Without giving him a second of reprieve, she summoned the largest sword she could and swung at him. She mustered everything she had, every power she had acquired over her time in Fairhaven: her blades, her shield, her strength, her sheer force of will, her cunning, her divination.
Every blow had purpose. Every breath held power.
Bit by bit, she drove him backward and he stumbled. His sword caught hers, but barely. As her fury grew, his attacks slowed. He could only parry.
She yelled with all her soul and drove the blade toward his stomach. He gurgled, body going rigid as she pushed the sword through until the hilt was crammed into his chest.
He stared at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping, and grabbed her hands. He gurgled again, grip tightening around her wrists as she twisted the blade to drive it in further. Thin streams of blood trailed out of the corners of his mouth.
“But you’re just a human,” he said, voice tense and gruff.
The opponents stilled, eyes locked, and Victoria couldn’t speak. She had envisioned all the things she’d say to him when she got him like this, but couldn’t think of a single thing now that it was happening.
Not a word.
“This won’t matter, you know,” he said, choking. “She’s coming. S-she’s coming. Fairhaven’s hers.”
“Who?” The word came out more as a demand than a question. Victoria gritted her teeth as the dying man fell to his knees.
He just laughed, blood on his teeth. His body convulsed and the tip of her sword wavered on the other side of his body, and he collapsed.
As he hit the ground, a small black orb fell out of one of the rips in the back of his shirt. Metal clattered onto the cobblestone, and a black amulet in the shape of a spider with red eyes lay on the ground before her.
In her bones, Victoria knew what it was—a Rhazdon Artifact.
A gentle ringing filled Victoria’s ears as she stared at the object. There were more on his body then, hidden somewhere under his clothes. Her skin buzzed at the thought of all that power mere inches away. The dagger embedded in her forearm ached, the bear figurine on her abdomen shook, and the amulet in her palm burned her with its blistering heat, but still she couldn’t look away.
This elf had killed her parents, and finally—finally—she had fulfilled her promise to avenge them.
But she felt empty.
A hand on her shoulder snapped her back to the present and she tensed, ready to strike, until she saw Fyrn’s familiar face. He watched her as though she would bolt, wary and concerned, but she simply nodded in thanks.
“Call off the golems. We’ve won,” he said.
“Stop!” she shouted to her creatures. One by one, they obeyed and became still.
Fairhaven’s protectors.
A roar crashed into her then, sudden and loud. The thrilling shouts of those around her filled her ears until she was almost deafened, and the warriors near her lifted their swords in victory.
“Victoria! Victoria! Victoria!” they shouted.
She smiled, shoulders relaxing with relief. They had done it. She shot one more glance at Luak’s corpse, though, and her smile faded. She nudged Fyrn. “Destroy his Rhazdon Artifacts.”
Fyrn’s jaw tensed, but he nodded. “Of course.”
Audrey and Diesel pushed their way to the front of the throng of people. Both had blood smeared across their faces, but they smiled warmly. Victoria had never seen a more welcome sight. They raced for her, both hugging her tightly.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” She let out a sudden breath of relief.
“We did it!” Audrey yelled.
“I knew we would,” Victoria said, trying with all her might not to crush them as she held them close.
She summoned her sword and lifted it toward the crystal above their heads.
“We’ve won!” she yelled to the sky.
And the crowd roared with her.
CHAPTER 28
Throughout the night, fires blazed amid the rubble of the castle’s exterior. Music played loudly as elves, ogres, and witches alike danced around the fires, celebrating freedom with as much wine as they could drink.
Fairhaven had been liberated, and the night became the longest celebration anyone alive could remember—even Fyrn.
But the next day around noon, Victoria sat in a war room in the east tower and laughed. It was a real laugh, a full one—the kind she hadn’t experienced in a while. Tears filled the corners of her eyes, and she didn’t bother holding back.
It was all too ridiculous.
“You want me to be queen?” she asked.
The politicians and generals at the table around her nodded. Not a single one even paused to consider her question. Even Styx nodded happily from his place on the table, but then her little pet was a bit biased.
Victoria lifted one eyebrow. “But why?”
Lady Spry smiled warmly and sat back in her chair. “This has been the plan from the beginning, Victoria.”
“No one told me.”
“Exactly. You would have said no.”
Victoria squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to catch up with the rest of them. “Obviously. I don’t need to be queen. I just wanted Fairhaven to be safe.”
“That’s what makes you perfect for the job.”
Several men and women around the table nodded and murmured in agr
eement.
Victoria laughed. “Do you even hear how ridiculous—”
Diesel leaned toward her, even though he was seated several chairs to her left. “Darling, the people love you. You led the charge. You killed Luak. They want no one else.”