The Black Mage: Complete Series

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The Black Mage: Complete Series Page 113

by Rachel E. Carter


  The trap door swung.

  The panels dropped.

  And Darren was in the air, his feet dangling five yards above the ground below.

  His neck swung from the rope.

  “Noooooo!”

  Everything was red. I was screaming and the dagger was in my hand. I extended my arm at the stage, taking aim just above his head.

  And the grounds exploded in smoke.

  Thick, wafting gas surrounded us, black and heavy, tasting like ash.

  Alex.

  The crowd broke out into chaos with cries and shrieks of alarm. Instead of forward, the bodies turned toward me. They were now a stampede of shadows, and I was the one shoving back.

  Coughing, I ran with the hand holding the dagger covering my face. I couldn’t make out the guards from the crowd, but any time a hand caught my wrist, I swung.

  My cane was long forgotten in the chaos that ensued. I used one hand to pummel as I shoved my way past the fleeing crowd.

  Darren.

  My heart was beating itself out of my chest; I couldn’t feel anything but the heavy slam against my ribs as the world roared in my ears.

  My eyes locked on the dim outline of the gallows ahead. Five more seconds passed and the smoke cleared enough to take in the rope.

  It was swinging without an anchor.

  My legs were searing as I lunged.

  The noose had been cut. Darren was missing.

  …Our plan.

  Did Ella make it in time?

  And then I noticed two shadows near the edge of the crowd, not five yards from the gallows’ base. One figure dragging another through the smoke.

  Quinn’s voice rose above the din. “Get the traitors!”

  And I knew.

  I knew it was them.

  There was a cluster of villagers blocking my way; I raised my knife and screamed at them to move. My fist sent the slowest to the ground, my muscles straining against my skin.

  I was almost there.

  There was more shouting and flares of color as magic shot back and forth across the crowd. Ella needed help; she couldn’t hold off an infantry by herself.

  I dove and caught the nearest soldier unawares. He dropped his sword as my blade pressed against the back of his neck.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, I slipped around to the front and sent a fist to the soldier’s nose. His neck snapped back as he tumbled unconscious to the ground.

  I might be a traitor, but I wouldn’t kill a man fighting for Jerar.

  Instead, I gathered the soldier’s weapons and cut my way through the rest of the pack.

  I didn’t need magic to win this fight.

  Everything in me was a raging storm, and today I wouldn’t fail.

  There was one word. One name. It kept me fighting all the way to the end.

  I reached the edge of the crowd and found them.

  Ella was struggling to drag Darren behind a pile of crates. There was a hazy amethyst barrier keeping them safe from the guards’ flying assault, but her magic wouldn’t last forever.

  I reached them in an instant. And then I stopped breathing.

  Ella was holding Darren up by the pits of his arms; she was all that kept the fallen king from crumbling to the ground. His eyes were shut, and I couldn’t tell if he was breathing; all I could fixate on was the red bruising around his neck.

  Was he—

  A whimper escaped my lips, and Ella’s hand shot out to grip my wrist.

  “His neck—” her lips were tight as she continued to cast; the magic was taking everything she had, “—Didn’t break… G-got to him in time.”

  All at once, I could feel everything and nothing; I was rising on air.

  There was a crunch of rock and sand.

  I swung, sword ready.

  And found Alex instead. He was sporting a fresh bruise on his cheek and his lips were stained red with blood. His face was white as he spotted Darren in Ella’s arms.

  “Someone knocked the flask from my h-hand,” he choked. “I c-couldn’t g-get to it in t-time.”

  “H-he’s alive.”

  My brother slumped in relief.

  “I don’t have much more stamina.” Ella’s strained voice broke through our reunion. “Can you two carry him the rest of the way?”

  Alex and I jumped in to wrap a slumped arm around each of our necks; Ella ran a wrist across her forehead, wiping away beads of perspiration and dirt.

  “L-let’s get… out of here.”

  And then the three of us were running.

  Ella cast our defense, fending off the keep’s regiment while the smoke continued to clear. We headed west toward a cluster of trees just past the square.

  My shoulder collided with a highborn at my right. The young man spun, outraged, screeching profanities.

  Merrick. Priscilla’s younger cousin.

  Recognition dawned as he raised his hand to cast.

  And I sent a flying fist to his face.

  The boy went down with one even crack.

  “Always wanted t-to do t-that,” I gasped.

  And then we were running again.

  The further we ran, the less Ella had to cast. With Darren’s rags and our disguises, we were hard to discern among the hundreds in the crowd. Every lowborn was dressed the same: a patchwork of brown and tattered gray.

  The highborns were like colorful birds, fluttering around in expensive gowns, confusing the guards with their screams.

  And then, ten minutes later, we were there, huddled within a small collection of pine, bordering the keep’s edge.

  Ian had yet to arrive.

  Ella set up guard near the trees, and Alex and I lowered Darren to the ground. The king hadn’t stirred once when we carried him through the crowds.

  My heart raced as Alex knelt, his fingers feeling for a pulse.

  I dug my heels in the ground, biting my cheek to keep from voicing my fears aloud.

  Why is Darren still not awake?

  “It’s a coma.” My twin looked up from the king’s side. “He had… a heavy blow with that rope… But he’ll… He should wake.”

  But not everyone does. My nails cut into my palm. I was drawing blood, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I’d heard too many stories from the palace infirmary.

  Alex gripped my arms as he stood. His mouth was opening and closing, but I couldn’t make out his words.

  Then he shook me, hard.

  My lungs retracted as the breath left my chest.

  “Darren will live, Ry.” Alex’s fingers tightened around my wrists. “You’ve fought this hard, just give him time to wake.”

  I willed myself to breathe. Darren would wake. I just needed to be strong.

  “Ian’s almost here.” Ella broke the silence as she returned from her patrol. “Are you ready?”

  Would I ever be? I was leaving behind everything I had ever known.

  But Alex and Ella had a mission too, a critical role to play in the aftermath of today.

  “Are you ready—” I took a deep breath. “—to help Priscilla pick up the pieces of Jerar?”

  Ella gave a twisted smile. “Was I ever?”

  “We’ll find a way.” Alex stepped in to press a kiss to his wife’s forehead, his hand lingering across her stomach just a moment too long.

  I sucked in air, stammering, “A-are you…?”

  My brother blanched as he realized what he had done. “We didn’t want to stop you from leaving, Ry.”

  “How l-long have you known?” Chains squeezed at my chest and they wouldn’t let go.

  “Only a couple of days…” Ella’s cheeks were flushed. “Alex thinks it’s going to be a boy.”

  “A boy?” My best friend and brother were going to have a child. It was the best news… and it hurt me in ways I’d forgotten to feel.

  “We are going to name him Derrick.”

  There was something hot in the back of my throat; my brother pulled me in, and I pressed my face to his chest. Alex’s grip was the only thing t
hat kept me from breaking as a horse and rider appeared through the brush.

  Ian hopped out of the saddle, looking flustered and red. “It was harder to slip away than I thought.” He froze, his gaze catching on my brother’s and my embrace. “Is Darren…?”

  “Alive.” Ella took over since my brother and I were still struggling to speak. “The guards didn’t notice?”

  “They will, eventually, but by the time they do, I’ll have returned.”

  “Someday…” My brother’s eyes were glassy as he focused on my face. “Someday you’ll be able to return, Ry. Or we’ll come to you.”

  “W-what if we never c-can?”

  Alex’s arms locked me in tighter like steel. “I refuse to believe in a future where we don’t.”

  The final phase of our plan was complete.

  I could feel it in my bones. It was time to say good-bye. Whether I was ready or not, this was it.

  “Take care of our p-parents and Ella… and D-Derrick.” My voice caught on the last part of his name.

  “I will.” Alex’s voice was hoarse. “And you… and Darren.”

  “I-I will.” My face was covered in tears.

  I held onto Alex a moment longer. And then I let my brother go.

  Ella was next.

  Neither of us spoke. She and I were both leaving those girls from the Academy behind; we were embarking on new parts of our lives we could never take back. My heart was breaking, just breathing her in. She was my best friend, and there was a part of her that was wholly mine. Just as a part of me was wholly hers.

  She deserved all the happiness in the world.

  My friend—the rebel who had every reason in the world to betray me—was the last to come forward.

  Ian wrapped his arms around my waist. “I’ll…” He couldn’t say it; he just swallowed, again and again.

  I gripped him tighter in return. “Me t-too.” That feeling would never fall away. Friends like him were… undeserved.

  I wondered what life he would lead now that the rebels were done and the war was over. Would Ian serve the Crown’s Army and meet a beautiful girl who loved him the way he deserved? Or would he find peace in solitude? Would he grow old with that same crooked grin?

  I stepped away and told myself this wasn’t the end.

  All three of them helped Darren into the saddle after me. One of my arms circled around my husband’s waist as the other clutched the reins. I stared out into the distance, at the smoke-covered fields and the forest beyond—at my future, where everything would change.

  And then a figure emerged from the trees. Its dress was indiscernible, peasant’s garb like our own. Ian and Ella drew their swords as Alex took a step toward me.

  “Who goes there?”

  The stranger raised her chin and the tattered hood fell away.

  Violet eyes and spiraling curls as sleek and dark as a raven in flight.

  “Priscilla?”

  The queen tossed a package, and I caught it as something gold and black slipped out of its casing.

  A hematite necklace. There were only two in Jerar.

  “It’s one of the Crown necklaces,” she affirmed. “Take it. It will buy you passage in Langli. There is a trader who will accept you and Darren onboard, no questions asked.”

  “How did you—”

  “I followed Ian.” Priscilla’s lips curved up in a smirk. “You were always so predictable.”

  “Why are you helping us?” My fingers trembled around the necklace; I wanted to accept her gift, but I was wary and afraid. Was this a trap? Were her guards lying in wait?

  “Because I believe in a better ending than gallows and blood.”

  No one spoke, and the queen continued, “I’m not as heartless as the four of you would choose to believe. My men have been feeding the guards information to pass along to Ian this entire week.”

  My friend reddened. “I didn’t…”

  “I couldn’t stay the execution, but I secured your passage east. There was more than one reason to make Audric the baron of my family’s estate.”

  She’d been helping us all along.

  “Thank you.” The words were so small in contrast to what she had done.

  “I regret very little.” Priscilla met my eyes. “But I regret that first year at the Academy, Ryiah. In another life, I think we could have been friends.”

  I would never doubt her again. I thrust the necklace into my saddlebags and then pulled away, blinking rapidly.

  All four of them were staring up at me.

  It was time. I couldn’t put the others at risk any longer. They had already risked so much.

  I pressed my palm to my chest. I held their gaze for a single moment as I took one last, retching breath. A thousand words were conveyed into that gesture. I felt every single one of them beating at my lungs.

  It was a good-bye to friends. To family. To Jerar and the kingdom it would become. I said it all in silence with my hand and my heart.

  And then I dug my heels into the stirrups and leaned forward in the saddle.

  The mare took off on command.

  And then the lowborn and the non-heir were gone. Hooves hit the ground, again and again.

  We were soaring.

  Out and toward the sun.

  22

  In the two weeks that followed, there were parts that were hard.

  Impossible days and sleepless nights. Parts where I never stopped looking over my shoulder for patrols. Parts where I grew restless and plagued with doubt.

  There were even parts I lost. Every second I closed my eyes and saw everyone and everything I was leaving behind.

  But there was also Darren. And he was all the reason I needed to keep pushing on.

  On the fifteenth night, we reached Port Langli. I had ridden our horse to exhaustion, but somehow we managed.

  As promised, there was no city regiment on alert. Audric had come and gone, arranging for an unsuspecting trade ship near the docks.

  I handed an elderly captain the Crown’s necklace, and the man helped us on board his ship, no questions asked. The crew, a group of straggly sailors, did not so much as look at their two passengers twice.

  We were given the captain’s room, the only one not shared with the crew, and then we were off.

  I was leaving Jerar. We were headed to the Borea Isles, and I would never return.

  The captain assured me there would be another ship waiting when we docked, one headed further east. The man didn’t know anything about the countries past our western divide, but it was freedom, and that would have to be enough.

  LATER THAT NIGHT, I had one of the crew bring me a list of supplies. They brought out two meals as well, but mine went untouched.

  I spooned broth and a flask of drinking water into Darren’s mouth. I waited patiently for each sip to pass, and then I spooned the next, easing his head up to help the liquid go down.

  I tried not to think about how much weight Darren had lost in the course of two weeks. His ribs were all too prominent along his chest and his cheekbones too sharp. Honey and hot broth weren’t enough, but anything thicker might make him choke.

  I dipped my rag into the soapy bucket at my feet. I was on my knees next to our cot. The bed was hardly more than a packed mattress of straw and woolen blankets, but it was more than we had seen in days.

  The crewman had also deposited an armful of old shirts and pants. I was grateful. The ones I’d brought for us were too soiled from the road.

  I peeled away Darren’s clothes and sponged him from head to toe. I washed away all the dirt and the grime from our travels. I washed away everything else without blinking an eye. We had been through so much; I couldn’t find the effort to grimace.

  I spent extra time tracing the lines along his jaw, combing Darren’s damp hair back with my nails.

  I stared down at the man I loved and told myself this wasn’t it. Darren would wake. If I willed it hard enough, he would return.

  My brother had seen worse. Heal
ers talked about miraculous recoveries all the time.

  He will wake. You just need to hold on.

  I was so lost in thought that I drifted to sleep on my knees.

  In my dreams, I could lie.

  There, the prince was confessing his feelings in the Academy’s tower. Surprising me with a dance in the ballroom. Challenging me to a duel with an arrogant smirk. Kissing me breathless as he pulled me into bed.

  There, he was Darren.

  It was only in waking I lived out despair.

  THE NEXT FEW days trickled by, and with every passing second, I was more restless than the last.

  On the road, most of my energy had been diverted to scouting the roads and planning the quickest escape should patrols show up along the trail.

  Here, I had nothing but fear.

  Doubt was pressing in and there was nowhere to run.

  I never left his side. My day was an endless routine of one-sided conversation and darkening thoughts.

  I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hope.

  I told myself to be strong, that I wasn’t allowed to be weak.

  But another day passed and it was harder than the last.

  Two more followed, and my resolve was leaving me behind.

  Another.

  And then a restless night with heavy winds as the crew saw to the sails.

  My will finally snapped.

  Darren hadn’t so much as stirred. And it had been three weeks.

  If he kept losing weight… he would die. After everything. To die of starvation, unconscious in his sleep.

  I’d fought too hard for this boy. Too many times.

  “Dying is the easy way out!” I screamed, shaking his shoulders over and over again. “You hear me, Darren? You told me you were the best, now, gods blast it, prove it!”

  There was no response, not a flutter of the eyelid or a twitch of his hand. It was probably a good thing I didn’t have magic, because I was certain I would have lit the boy on fire again.

  Five minutes passed, and I could feel the hysteria flooding my lungs. I was ready to implode, but I was fighting so hard to stay whole.

  He was alive. Why couldn’t that be enough?

  My fingers dug into Darren’s shirt, and I told myself to breathe.

  Then I inhaled and exhaled, gradually, one breath at a time.

  After a while, my pulse slowed, but the beat didn’t fade. If anything, it was faster.

 

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