Last Stand (The Black Mage Book 4)

by Rachel E. Carter

  “Then prove it.” His voice lowered; he was no longer yelling. “Pick the Crown. Live.” The next words were so desperate and broken. “Pick everything we were.”

  I shook my head; my whole body trembled; there was no way he could miss it. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  The prince swore violently and released me with a shove.

  For a moment, there was silence.

  Then his voice cracked. “You asked me to run away once.”

  My eyes flew to his; Darren looked back at me. There was no hate, just regret. Something a thousand times worse than the first.

  “So there was a time you would have picked us.”

  “I’m sorry.” My whisper was hoarse. I couldn’t pick him or my family now. There were others.

  I’d been selfish then, but I needed to be better, stronger now. Wishing wouldn’t change their fate. Picking the boy wouldn’t save the rest.

  The Black Mage rose and retreated to the corner of the cell, his hands stilling on the lock. “Not as sorry as me.”

  There was a sudden stiffness in my joints; I couldn’t move.

  “At dawn they are going to take your life.”

  Be brave, Ryiah.

  “I won’t be there.” Darren’s expression was the same as that day I found him on the bluffs. Something beyond grief. Something that called out to me even as I shattered. “I can’t watch,” he whispered. “Even after all that you’ve done. I can’t.”

  Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn’t speak—not without breaking down into confession and selling my soul for the chance to take that pain away. I didn’t trust myself with honor. I would have given anything.

  I watched him go.

  I let the boy I love turn and walk away, knowing he would never come back.

  One more night.

  So why did it already feel like the end?

  The heavy thud of something splintering against the door was enough to drive me from my self-perpetuated misery. I had buried myself deep in nothing, ignoring every tormenting thought in an effort to escape the last few hours of my fate. It had almost worked, too.

  Then there was a muffled shout and a second bang, and I couldn’t ignore it again.

  My eyelids fluttered open. I found a dank cell with rusting iron bars and the familiar stains of old blood on stone. I was surrounded by shadows and walls. There was no light now that the guards were away. There was no need.

  There was the rotting stench of feces and urine nearby, something the guards had never bothered to collect. I breathed in unsteady gasps, and every part of me ached. The pain was coming back without remorse.

  There was the agony of a body abused for days on end, the agony of what was to come, and the agony of Darren’s last words, cutting deeper than any wound Mira could ever inflict.

  Not as sorry as me.

  There was the pressure of Darren’s threat, closing in like a hand at my throat, squeezing until I lost all sense of control. Soldiers marching on Demsh’aa, and then the keep. My parents. Alex. Ella.

  I had tried so hard to escape the fear, to hide from it in my little pit of despair.

  The nightmare was back.

  My village in flames. Black smoke crawling across the sky as Derrick fell. Again.

  Alex with a blade to his chest. Ella trapped and my parents falling to the soldiers’ wrath.

  And Darren. Standing next to his brother on the cold iron throne, a glistening crown of hematite stones as they laugh and laugh into the endless night.

  I am trapped behind an invisible glass, pounding until my fists were purple and raw. Pounding until bones crack and my screams are muffled by the wind.

  Who needed a hallucinogen when my dreams were the same as my fate?

  “Ryiah!”

  At first, I thought perhaps I was locked in another dream.

  Paige appears, panting heavily with a sword clutched in hand; her chest rising and falling through the dim light of the stairs behind.

  She blinks and tries to peer into the darkness, and then she utters a curse and begins to retreat, only to return with a torch.

  “Well,” she says, “he certainly could have given me an easier deadline.”

  There are bodies sprawled out just behind her, caked in blood.

  “We don’t have much time”—she races across the cell, her eyes darting back toward the hall—“before someone comes to relieve your guards.” The knight digs into her pockets and produces a key from her vest, unlocking my cell.

  I didn’t think I would picture Paige in my final hours, but there she was. I stared up at the vision, grateful to have company, no matter her form.

  “Ryiah?” She shakes me. “Ryiah!”

  And a hard slap to the face sent the pain rearing back.

  I blinked.

  And she was still there. The pain had my whole head reeling and my cheek stung, but the guard was still there. “Paige?”

  Her expression was incredulous. “Who else would it be? Mira?”

  I blinked again. Still present.

  The knight gave an impatient huff and unlocked the manacles keeping me in place. “I second-guessed myself for days after that rebel escaped.” She was shaking her head as she pulled my bruised wrists out of the cuffs, one by one. “I knew there was something suspicious about the way you just gave up after your brother’s death.”

  Somewhere just beyond, the bell tower gave twelve tolls for midnight. Six before the end.

  “I know why you never trusted me.” Paige wrapped one arm around my side, ducking under my shoulders with a groan. “It doesn’t make it right.” She let out a heaving groan. “But since you never told prince charming either, I’ve made my peace.”

  “Paige?” I was letting her pull me to my feet, trying to ignore the shaking in my limbs. There were parts of me that hadn’t healed, and many that wouldn’t, not without a healer to set things right. “A-are you r-rescuing me?”

  “Mira has been watching me like a hawk ever since the news. I kept hoping your rebel friends would come save you like they did Derrick, but it appears the role of savior has fallen to me.” Her lips pressed in a tight, thin line. “Trust your beloved to wait until the last possible minute to present the opportunity.”

  “Darren?” My mind raced and my head spun. Did he believe me after all? Had he helped Paige plot my escape?

  The knight pulled a chain from the pocket of her tunic as the two of us crossed the room. “You two are the world’s most complicated fools.”

  There was Darren’s hematite necklace dangling from her hand. “Your beloved called a late meeting with Mira. The king is already in his bed. This should get us through the gates. No one but Blayne or the head mage would question the crown prince’s orders.”

  There were so many questions spinning inside my head; I didn’t know which to ask first.

  “Here.” The knight knelt down, and I started as I realized she was stripping one of the unconscious guards at the bottom of the stairs. “We need you to be wearing something besides a prisoner’s rags. I don’t want to give the others a reason to think something is wrong. We might need his sword too.”

  “H-how could you?” I paused. Both were mages Mira had employed during my interrogations. Any pity was immediately forgotten. They had enjoyed making a crown princess scream.

  The knight caught my expression and gave me a toothy grin. “They never expected a thing. I went after that one first. He couldn’t pain cast like you. It was easy.”

  Trust Paige to be cocky during an escape. I rested my palm against the wall as I took in my bearings.

  Seconds later, I was tearing off the remains of my dress, trying not to make a sound as Paige cut around crusted-over wounds. Then I was donning a gray uniform and the cloak Paige had been wearing over her clothes when she arrived.

  Paige fisted a handful of my hair that was matted and sticky with blood. “I hope you don’t have any attachment to your hair.”

  “Wh—”

  Her knife whip
ped across the air and everything below my shoulders dropped to the floor. Paige wasted no time in gathering the strands, making a face as she did, and then stuffing them in the satchel at her waist. “Can’t have them seeing the prisoner they expect,” she explained, “and your hair is far too memorable as it is.” The guard handed me a discerning amber vial. “Rub this in.”

  I didn’t bother to argue; I already recognized the contents from my parents’ shop. The scent was vile, but within seconds the sulfur had turned my hair a deep brown. The dried blood passed for dirt.

  In my new garb and shorter locks, I passed for a male.

  “Make sure you keep that hood down.”

  Paige started to climb the stairs, and I stumbled after her, catching her arm. I balanced a bit easier now, but I was still shaking. “Wait.”

  “Yes?” Her eyes flared in irritation.

  “Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me? You aren’t a rebel—”

  “We really don’t have time for this.” She huffed and helped me climb, slowing her pace. “All you need to know is I made a choice. Gods only know if it was the right one, but the moment the prince presented me with the opportunity, I took it. He promised me the necklace as payment for a life on the run, but…” She assisted me with the final step. “…my fealty hasn’t been to the Crown, not since the moment they told me you turned traitor.”

  Something tugged at my lungs; I willed myself to blink away the tears fighting to break the surface.

  “I don’t know why you did it,” she murmured, “and I don’t know how, but I know you. If you took up with the rebels, there was a reason. Now, we have exactly thirty minutes to reach the stables before the next shift arrives. Darren assured me there is a mare already readied with supplies to last us as far as the coast.” She paused and took a deep breath. “He wants you to take a ship to Borea as a fisherman’s apprentice. He’s had papers made, but I expect you want the rebels. We head north? To the keep?”

  I nodded, unable to speak. She had answered my unspoken question. Darren didn’t believe me. He wouldn’t have ordered Paige to send me to the isles if he had.

  He still cares, or he wouldn’t have ordered this escape. He doesn’t want your execution, even when he swore to hunt down your family next.

  “I thought as much.” Paige released my arm and made a motion for me to follow closely. “Now, don’t look anyone in the eye and walk as fast as you can. Stop for no one. If they sound the bells, run.”

  Her laugh was bitter as we started down the dark corridor ahead. “Gods help me,” she said, “there is no going back.”

  The two of us skirted the hall as quick as we dared, doing our best not to jump or flinch at every shadow and sound. Every muscle in my body ached. I had forgotten how many sets of stairs and winding corridors there were leading from the dungeon to the central level of the palace.

  We were doing well, ten minutes in, before we came across our first pair of guards. Paige continued forward with her chin high. I shuffled at her side, trying to avoid notice.

  “You there. Halt.” A sharp bark made my hairs stand on end. “Names and purpose.”

  “Really, Pasha?” Paige faked a laugh and jerked her thumb at me. “You don’t remember Gallaghen? He had dice with us that first week in the city.”

  I took a deep breath, holding my stance, and prayed they missed the purple bruising under my jaw. That the guards only saw a lanky boy with hunched shoulders and dark, coarse bangs. It was still dark and it was late, the time of day people were more prone to mistakes.

  “Very well.” The guard finished his cursory glance. “Purpose?”

  “The two of us needed some time alone.” Paige threw an arm around me with a cheeky wink at the men. “This is one persistent lad, finally won my heart after all these months.”

  The two guards guffawed. “You? A heart?”

  “Oy, he looks a bit scrawny for your tastes.”

  My guard rolled her eyes and nudged me forward. “‘Night boys.”

  The two of us continued past another set of guards; this time they didn’t question our presence. We made it past a third, and then I recognized a pair up ahead. Two mages from my interrogations. I reached for Paige’s arm. “We can’t go that way.”

  Her lips pursed as she considered our options. We had the main hall, with twenty guards near the palace entrance, an impossible feat, or we had the back doors to the gardens–taken up by the pair in question.

  “We will just have to pray they don’t recognize you.”

  Somewhere above, the warning bells tolled.

  The two of us flattened against the wall.

  “We were supposed to have more time!” Paige uttered a curse. “The next shift must have come early. We can’t wait.”

  “No!” I pointed toward the kitchens. “There’s a servants’ passage inside. It will take us to the kennels.”

  “Fine,” she gasped, “it’s the best we’ve got.”

  “On my count… One, two, go!”

  The two of us made a mad sprint across the corridor, our footfall and pace no different than the tens of guards scattering the halls. In another minute, I knew half the palace regiment would be at the front doors, the other half to check on the king.

  We ducked into the kitchens just in time to find Benny clutching a butcher’s knife, the surfaces of his dirty counters long forgotten as he made the sign against evil across his chest. “Sankt’ra Dien.” Gods protect us all in the old tongue.

  I dropped the hood as I inched closer. “Benny, it’s me.”

  The man stared, eyes bulging. “Princess, but you are—”

  “A rebel.” My hand caught on the small catch that Darren had taught me to feel for during the apprenticeship. “Please, don’t tell anyone we were here.”

  “How bad is it?” Benny’s eyes darted to Paige who was clutching the hilt at her side, readying for a fight.

  “I won’t be coming back.” I met the cook’s wary gaze and prayed he wouldn’t shout for the guards. I liked to think we were friends, but the man had no reason to trust a traitor.

  He heaved a sigh and set down the knife. “You always were one of my favorites. Just promise me this isn’t a mistake.”

  “Thank you.”

  A loud voice just outside the door hollered.

  “One of you, check the kitchens!”

  With one last look to Benny, I twisted the panel back and hopped inside with Paige at my heels. No sooner had we slammed the latch shut, then there were a pair of angry voices demanding if Benny had seen a fleeing prisoner.

  I prayed Benny kept his word. If we had any luck, the guards would assume we were still hiding out in the palace. That we had never made it out.

  It was time to run.

  So, we ran. Fast.

  We were stumbling around in the dark, sprinting over small bits of debris, coughing up dust, and dodging roots as we fled. More than once I lost traction from some throbbing muscle or loose bit of stone, and it was all I could do to hit the ground, breathe, and pick myself back up.

  When we finally reached a small patch of light, it was long overdue.

  The two of us caught our breath as we slid the second panel back and peered into the kennels beyond.

  Everything was dark. But with the muffled shouts coming from the palace, we didn’t have much choice.

  No sooner had we shuffled into the room, something heavy collided with my legs, followed by a wet tongue.

  “Hey there, old boy.” I knelt down to pet Wolf as Paige groaned. She didn’t hate dogs; she had stepped in something foul.

  From the kennels, I heard more soldiers in the courtyard. It would only get worse.

  We had to keep going.

  I looked at the mutt with regret. I had spent too much of my youth fearing dogs when the real villains were part of my race. “I’ll miss you.” I wrapped my arms around the dog’s scruffy neck and then stood, fighting the tightness in my chest. “Keep watch over your master for me.”


  A hand squeezed my shoulder. “You need a moment?”

  I shook my head and started forward. If I started to think of what I was leaving behind, I would never stop.

  When we reached the kennel exit, Paige turned to me and handed me her satchel, shoving me back inside the building.

  “I’ll get the horse. You wait here. If something seems wrong, make a run for the gates. No sense in both of us risking our necks. They are only looking for you right now, but who knows how long that will last.”

  The sky thundered and rolled up above; I watched Paige go, ducking along the castle grounds as rain sprayed the barracks and gardens below.

  The next nineteen minutes were the longest of my life. The bell tower had just tolled an hour past midnight when she returned. I heard her footsteps just outside the door.

  Only a second too late did I realize I was also waiting for two sets of hooves.

  “And just when I thought you escaped.”

  The king stood, sopping wet, with a sword in hand and pointed at my chest.

  Blayne.

  I made a desperate attempt to slam the door, but he caught it just in time, yanking it back. I couldn’t counter his weight, not after ten days of suffering in that cell.

  I stumbled back, fumbling for the sheath at my waist.

  The king strolled in at a leisurely pace, everything at ease except for the sword in hand.

  I can do this. I kept my eyes on his blade as I backed away, withdrawing a blade of my own. He’s not a mage or even a knight.

  Then why was I afraid?

  “I would ask you how you made it this far, but I suspect my dear, sweet brother has something to do with the circumstances of your escape.” Blayne’s eyes swept along our surroundings to the dark passage leading to the kennels, and his lips curled into a sneer. “The moment I heard he pulled Mira into some ludicrous meeting, I knew. I sent guards to check the dungeon.” Paige had been right, the alarm sounded early. “And after that, it was simply a process of elimination.”

  The king took another step forward, and I inched back along the wall, the blade shaking in my hand. It was lighter, I realized, slender instead of thick, a rapier when I needed a broadsword.