by J. B. North
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, slow and still faltering.
And then, it picked back up, faster, faster, until it raced in my chest. Power flooded through my veins, sudden and burning. I opened my eyes to meet August’s ice blue ones.
My wounds stung as they began to stitch themselves and my breathing regulated. I pushed myself up into a sitting position, and August clasped my arm, helping me stand.
He’d given me my power back.
I studied the burning shelters, the flame flickering high on the gap’s walls. August stood back next to Roselle as I shifted into half form.
I narrowed my eyes and walked toward the fire, arms spread out as I soaked in the heat. Little by little, the blaze went out until the only light in the gap was the bright swirls on my skin. The screams stopped. Everything was silent.
And then, one by one, the enemy filtered out of the shelters like moths drawn to a flame.
Roselle, August, and I dove into action, an unstoppable force of wind, ice, and fire. The Ginsians didn’t stand a chance.
August formed swords of ice and fought with deadly precision.
I sent blasts of flame toward anyone that tried to attack.
And Roselle chased down the ones that tried to get away, sweeping them effectively into the gorge.
Within minutes, every enemy in sight lay motionless.
Roselle appeared next to me. “I think it’s over,” she said, breathing hard.
And then, the man from earlier, the man that had been setting the shelters ablaze, appeared out of the gloom. His face was bloodied and one of his eyes had swelled shut. He pointed a finger at August. “He knows where you are, Prince Darren,” he said with a crazed laugh. “Your father…he’ll find you.”
And then, there was the sound of blade entering flesh, and the man sunk to the ground, Erik holding a bloody knife behind him.
-Chapter Thirty-two-
August stood stock still, staring at the man who had fallen.
He’s King Ciaran’s son?
Erik stooped down to clean the bloody blade on the man’s clothes. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I should have killed him when I had the—” He cut off his words when his eyes finally focused on his dead wife, sword still embedded in her body, blood pooling on the rock around her.
The knife he’d been cleaning clattered to the stone as he walked toward the woman he loved. He fell to his knees beside her. “No,” he whispered as he stroked her face. And then louder, a cry of agony, “NO!”
Roselle stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Erik—”
“Don’t touch me,” he snarled. He brushed the hair away from his wife’s face and placed a kiss on her forehead.
Roselle looked beaten. Broken.
She backed away from him and glanced at me, narrowing her eyes. You killed her. This is your fault, they seemed to say.
Then, she turned from both of us and retreated, heading toward the caves.
My gaze flicked over to August—or Prince Darren—only to find that he’d left. It was just Erik, his dead wife, and me, the girl that killed her.
If he’d known that I’d done it, I had no doubt that he would try to end my existence.
But I’d saved his other love’s life. His wife would’ve stabbed and killed her, and she probably led in the Ginsian attack, too. He just didn’t know that yet.
I shifted into first form and backed away into the darkness. From the direction of the caves, flickering lights were emerging, all headed this way. Soon, they would happen upon Erik and his wife, and if any of them had witnessed me kill her, I didn’t want to be found anywhere near him.
I turned away, unsure of what to do, where to go. I picked my way through the charred remains of shelters and ended up climbing the steps of the ice temple, where August kept the plant of eternal life.
I stopped on the last step when August’s voice rang out behind me. “What are you doing here?”
I wasn’t exactly sure. I turned back to him. “I—I was just worried that—”
“That someone had stolen the plant?”
I didn’t reply.
He walked up the steps and brushed past me. He crouched by the foot of the pillar that the plant rested on, and gestured to the ground. “Look closely.”
I shifted into half form as I approached. I studied him nervously. How can I trust someone related to King Ciaran?
Regardless of the uneasiness that knotted in my stomach, I came up beside him. The light from my skin illuminated something I hadn’t noticed before. Ash. Black, powdery ash.
My thoughts were brought back to the final trial to get to the plant, how the angels would barely touch the demons with the tips of their swords before they disintegrated into black dust.
“So someone did try to get to it,” I concluded.
August nodded. “The plant can protect itself.”
I stood and looked at the perfectly preserved golden flowers. It was strange that something so beautiful could be so deadly.
And then, I began to wonder. After all this hardship, after killing so many people…could my heart still be pure? Heart racing, I raised a hand.
August bolted up and gripped my wrist before I could touch the orb, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”
I studied his face, his pleading eyes. “I have to know,” I whispered.
“Is the knowledge worth dying for?”
I didn’t reply.
His gaze lingered on my face for a moment, and then he pried his fingers from my arm and stepped back.
I turned my attention onto the plant, and just before I touched it, I closed my eyes and said a prayer. Lord…forgive me. For everything I’ve ever done wrong, forgive me.
My fingertips brushed against the orb, surprising me with its coldness. What appeared to be glass was actually ice.
I waited…but nothing happened. I cracked open my eyes and dropped my hand.
August was visibly relieved. “Well…that was brave. Now you know.”
And then the pain hit.
I doubled over, clutching my arm.
August crouched down beside me, voice frantic as he said, “Ivy? What’s wrong?”
I wasn’t able to answer, but I knew what was happening. I’d felt this pain before, like a knife carving slowly through my skin, going round and round my arm. Pain so piercingly unbearable that I teetered on the threshold of unconsciousness.
I lay there, writhing on the ground, until it finally stopped, leaving me panting and breathless on the icy floor, black dots spotting my vision.
I looked at August, who was now staring at my arm. I followed his gaze down to the scar that now creeped around my bicep, all the way to the elbow.
His eyes flicked back up to mine. “Are you okay?”
I nodded and rubbed my tingling arm. “I am now.”
“Why did that happen?”
The answer was simple. The plant had given me too much power for a mortal body. But all I said was, “I-I think it was a warning.”
August helped me up, his hand almost as ice-cold as the floor itself. “A warning?”
I traced the mutilated skin that had already healed into an ugly pink line. “It means I don’t have long. To save my brother, to save the kingdoms…to live.”
He grimaced. “Why? Why would it affect you that way and not me?”
I don’t know. I shrugged. “Maybe because you have the orb. Or maybe you consumed enough to actually be immortal.”
His face darkened and then he closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration.
My power was sucked away from me, and the light around us turned to shadow as my body shifted into first form. I felt suddenly cold and weak. “Why did you do that?”
In the dim moonlight that filtered in through the gap, I could barely see him.
His eyes flickered back open, pale and ghostlike in the darkness. “If you don’t have power, it can’t hurt you.”
For the first time ever, I was grateful for his stran
ge ability to control who shifted around him. It would give me more time. I just wished he’d asked first.
Even so, it gave me an idea. I glanced at the plant. “I think I know how we can defeat King Ciaran.”
“How is that?” he asked.
“When I went to rescue my brother, I couldn’t. Your father has too many men, too many sorcerers.” He nodded and crossed his arms. “But if we bring the orb, you can absorb their power.”
“And then, we can rescue your brother and kill my father,” he finished. “But…I don’t know if it’s possible. I’ve never tried to control that many people at once.”
My heart sank, and I turned my head away.
He rested his hands on my shoulders, making me look back up into his eyes.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t try it, though,” he said, his mouth formed into a small smile. “It’s the best plan we’ve come up with yet.”
The corners of my mouth pulled up slightly in return. “So…what’s the rest of the plan? When do we leave?”
His face darkened as he dropped his hands to his sides and led the way in the direction of the shelters. I followed closely, and soon, we were both looking out at the scorched ruins of the camp. Wails echoed through the gap as people discovered their loved ones. How many lives had been lost? How many people left grieving and wounded?
August’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He grit his teeth with the effort to keep them from falling. When he spoke, his voice was grave and yet, at the same time, resounding with passion. “We’ll recover. We’ll move camp. And then, we’ll kill King Ciaran.”
The End
of Book Two.
-Acknowledgments-
I've been so blessed to have many, many people who have shared in my journey while writing this book, and contributed in some way.
I express my gratitude to:
- Sierra Istre, Sarah Mitchell, David Mitchell, Thomas Gauthier, Mom, and Hannah for tireless hours of editing.
- The Tung Family, for their support and encouragement at the local library's “write-ins”. Can’t wait for November!
- My family, my friends, and my church family who have encouraged, uplifted, and inspired me.
- Cassandra Boyson, fellow author, for our emailing friendship.
- Widhi Saputro, for incredibly creative artwork for the covers of both Spark and Icebound.
- My readers, who have supported me and encouraged me as I develop as a writer. You guys are awesome!
- Lastly, but most importantly, to God. Without the beauty of the earth and the gift of music, I would lack the inspiration to write.
-About the Author-
J.B. North grew up in central Texas where she spent her time scouring the bookshelves in her aunt’s school library. She published her first book, Spark (Legends of the Shifters: Book One), when she was seventeen years old. She enjoys drawing badly, singing, and watching BBC television.
North now lives in southern Virginia, where she spends her days writing and caring for people’s pups.
Find out more about J.B. North by visiting her website at AuthorJBNorth.com.