Last Stand (The Black Mage Book 4)

by Rachel E. Carter

  “Ryiah, Ryiah!” I could hear all three of their shouts echoing throughout the walls. They must have heard my screams.

  Gods, no. Darren thought…

  The king cocked his head to the side. “Looks like I won’t have to look for your brother after all. And is that Ella and Ian I hear?”

  “Get out of here!” I screamed the words as Darren released me, stepping back to face my friends head on.

  But of course, my panicked scream only made them come running.

  I had less than a second to decide as magic crackled in his palm.

  Fight, or watch the most powerful mage in Jerar take on my brother and two best friends. He had used my screams to draw them out, just like he promised.

  Fight Darren. Or watch them die.

  I launched myself from the wall and ripped the sleeve off my cloak, wrapping it as tightly as I could around my hand. The blood seeped through, but I didn’t have time to fix it now.

  The Black Mage kept his gaze on the passage as the footsteps grew louder. “A bit too late, my love. We have a score to settle first.”

  “Ryiah!” My brother was first to turn the corner.

  And I raced forward, palms outstretched as I screamed, “Alex, run!”

  Darren’s magic took off like a storm. Miniscule shards of ice collected in a whirlwind that would shred its victim to bits. Some of the older mages in our apprenticeship had once demonstrated something similar in the desert with small granules of sand.

  My brother skidded to a halt as I threw myself in front of his path.

  My casting roared to life, and I threw my hands over my ears, praying the others would copy the defense.

  The vibrations rose like the toll of a heavy bell; I felt the rattle in every part of my chest. The screech was ear shattering and set every nerve on edge.

  My magic turned Darren’s casting to dust.

  For a moment, the air was thick with a crystalline powder, and the only thing I could hear was an endless ringing in my skull.

  I released my ears just as the first icicle crashed to the floor.

  An icicle the size of a small house.

  Another followed. Ice was dropping from the ceiling and bits were cracking along the walls.

  I couldn’t see where Darren was across the passage. Things kept falling.

  The cavern… was breaking. In my haste to counter his magic, I had forgotten where we were. The effect of so many vibrations in a prism of ice.

  Boom.

  I leaped back just as another splintered in my path.

  Pop. Swissh. Craaaack.

  “Run!” I turned and shoved the three of my rescuers back; Darren would be on us in seconds.

  Ella hesitated, but Alex’s eyes were locked on my bandage, his outrage rising. “Ryiah, you’re—”

  “Ella, get my brother out of here!” My screech was frantic. I didn’t have time to argue as a flare of light lit up the room, and I spun, magic rising.

  The barrier rose just as the passage exploded in a torrent of arrows. The fireheads hissed and sparked as they smacked against my casting and crumbled to ash.

  I braced for the next onslaught, but Ian had already taken off, sprinting toward the king, twisting and diving around heavy mounds of ice.

  “Ian, no!”

  Darren had two axes in hand.

  Ian launched a javelin.

  And I tore off after them as fast as my legs could manage.

  Darren deflected the older boy’s casting with an axe that spun, sending both of their blades skittering off to the side. Then he lunged forward, his second weapon in hand.

  Ian circled, his chest rising and falling, his eyes darting everywhere as he searched for an opening.

  I reached Ian, joining my magic with his just as Darren launched the second axe and an onslaught of knives.

  “Isn’t this a surprise,” Darren snarled as the weapons collided with our globe, “the two of you, together again.”

  “Go.” I tried to push Ian back, but he was too busy fiddling with a scabbard at his waist. “Ian,” I tried again, my panic rising, “leave him to me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” The sword was in his hand.

  “But—”

  A blast shook our shield, and for a moment, all I could see was a whirlwind of red. It was only a matter of minutes before Darren breached our defense. The throbbing ache was building in my head with every second. The sheer effort to hold a casting of this magnitude was depleting my stamina too fast.

  I could barely blink from the pain, much less think.

  “He’s trying to kill us, Ryiah.” Ian’s breaths were ragged. He wasn’t faring any better. “Even you.” He took a step back so that his shoulders were parallel to my own with the weapon drawn. “All bets are off.”

  Darren’s voice thundered behind our shield. “You two must have enjoyed playing me for the fool all these years.”

  Thud. Crasssh. Our shield was splintering, and my grip was slipping down threads of control like a web.

  There was another ear-splitting screech, and then the magical bond Ian and I shared snapped.

  I ducked and dove, skinning my knees and palms—the bandage included—along the ice and rock. Ian collapsed; he hadn’t been so quick and had received the blunt force of Darren’s attack.

  “Ian!”

  I heard rather than saw my friend fall as a blur rushed us by.

  Another jarring echo and whatever Darren cast next hit something solid, blocking it from the obvious path.

  I blinked and the shadows registered, the ache subsiding in my head just long enough to focus.

  Ella.

  She and Alex had never left, and she had thrown herself in our path while my brother clutched a blade.

  Alex was kneeling at Ian’s side, green magic flickering along his fingers as he saw to his wounds.

  I struggled to rise, but my arms, especially the one with the bad hand, refused to hold still long enough to push. The pain was making me see stars.

  Outside of my vision, there was another clash, and then a loud clap as steel hit something across the way.

  “You don’t have to do this.” I could hear Ella shouting. “For Ryiah’s sake, Darren—”

  Bright light flared across the cavern, and I pushed harder, biting down to keep from screaming as I rose to my knees.

  “—But if you do—” Ella gasped as something slammed against her defense, again and again. “—then I have no c-choice.”

  I was pushing to my feet as the sound of splintering glass crowded my ears.

  I recovered my vision just as my best friend ducked low, narrowly avoiding a dagger to the ribs. She had a set of arrows hovering above her hands. They soared through the air the same moment fire appeared in the Black Mage’s palms.

  No.

  Hysteria exploded in my chest, and I couldn’t think. I just moved.

  Twin streaks of magic shot out of each of my hands.

  And the two hit the wall. Ella slumped to her knees at my left. There was the crunch of bone to my right. My vision locked on a staggering king with a thin trail of blood trickling down the corner of his mouth.

  “Your fight isn’t with them.” My fists were shaking as I screamed. Fury made it hard to focus on anything other than Ella. Ella. I couldn’t watch my best friend go down fighting a battle I was too afraid to fight. “It’s with me!”

  For a moment, Darren didn’t move; he just stared.

  And then he threw back his head and laughed. “Finally.”

  “Ryiah, no—”

  I twisted my neck and shared one last look with my brother and friends. Ian was struggling against my brother’s hold. Alex refused to budge, his gaze locked on mine. I could see the resolution in his jaw and the agony in his eyes. He would honor his promise, even if it cost me my life.

  Ella just watched me, hot resignation staining her cheeks. She knew why I had stopped their duel. She knew what I wanted.

  She knew I could never forgive them if it
was someone else.

  She looked away.

  My words were barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

  I couldn’t let them die at the hands of the boy I loved. My fate was sealed the moment I betrayed a king.

  Ian fought my brother’s grip. “Ryiah, don’t you dare—”

  I shut my eyes and sent a bolt of power at the ceiling. I didn’t wait for the torrent to land as my feet hit the air.

  I just ran.

  I ran and ran as fast as my legs could fly. I could hear Ian’s bellow as I increased my pace. My lungs burned like fire as I crossed the threshold just in time.

  “Ryiah!”

  The mage’s words were cut off by the thunder of ice and snow. An avalanche of rock followed as the cave’s ceiling came crumbling down.

  Shards of ice cut away at my clothes as I continued to run. A misting of white cloaked the air, and I was choking on dust. The walls quaked as I ran.

  And then it was over.

  I ducked just as Darren did the same, and the two of us ended up in a wide passage much brighter than the rest. A frozen pool of water was at our feet, lit up by the gaps of starlight above.

  There was a mountain of rubble behind us, and I could hear Ian’s muffled shouts as he tried to cast a way through. He wouldn’t reach us. Nobody would.

  The overlook was our only way out. That, or an army of mages paving a way through debris. Rebels or Crown’s Army soldiers, it didn’t matter. By the time they reached us, only one would be leaving the cave alive.

  Darren cleared his throat. “You could have killed us both.”

  I withdrew a broadsword from the scabbard at my waist. “If that’s what it takes.”

  The two of us circled, and for a moment, I was back in the Academy armory. It was the two of us and a winter solstice as a boy taught a girl how to fight.

  I swallowed and shoved the memory back. That Darren was gone. This was a cruel stranger in his place. He might not be his brother, but he believed in Blayne’s lies. He would kill for them.

  He had already shown me exactly what he was capable of.

  I couldn’t keep clinging to the past.

  Everything we had…

  Say it, my brain screamed. Admit everything you have is gone.

  The king was the first to lunge. I caught the glint of bagh naka in each of his fists. The brass blades were attached to his knuckles by a leather thong. He swiped in and then crested right, ducking back out before I could place a hit. His footwork was fluid like a jungle cat in shadows, his blades like claws.

  But I wasn’t second best for nothing.

  I spun and twisted, cutting and lunging in return. Everything I did, my magic mirrored his assault. My muscles knew the patterns without recall. So many years of practice, my body recognized Darren’s next choice before it caught up to my thoughts.

  And he, mine.

  It was just the two of us, pulses beating out the frenzied dance as we twisted and turned in the fight of our lives.

  …But every chance I could land a blow, I was still holding back. I knew it. He knew it. My heart was caught up in a deadly game, and it was blocking my mind when I needed it most.

  Come on, Ryiah, fight.

  Darren’s gaze locked on my own; something twisted in the crevice of my lungs.

  Fight.

  My grip faltered and a ripple of agony shot down my arm as one of Darren’s blades caught on my sword, forcing it to the side as the other swiped at my casted shield, the screech of metal grating in my ears.

  My knees buckled under the weight; my mind cried out at the mounting pressure of his magic against mine.

  Fight.

  Gods blast it, he could have killed my friends!

  He was waging a war.

  How much more would it take?

  Fight him.

  Steel took up a reservoir around my heart and the projection lunged. My casting became a chain. I dropped the sword and ducked, twisting right. I used the end of my chain to catch on one set of blades as I coiled it around the second. In the blink of an eye, I had his bahj naga in chains.

  Before Darren could react, I contracted my arm, pulling the king in until the two of us were just a hair-width apart. Then I sent him soaring across the ice as far as I could throw.

  I clenched my eyes shut as he landed flat on his back; his head hit the ice with a hard thud.

  It’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not him. The lies weren’t working; I could feel myself starting to break.

  Craccckkkk.

  My eyelids fluttered open in time to catch Darren’s hand against ice.

  I lunged to the right as a fissure ripped across the floor like a legion of teeth. I landed with my thigh just narrowly avoiding a large skewer of ice.

  There was a crackle of bright yellow and gold as Darren pushed himself to his knees.

  I knew what was coming next.

  My casting caught the blunt force of Darren’s lightning at an angle, the energy crackling in a ball above my head. The effort to keep Darren’s magic at bay was like pulling my limbs from their sockets. The agony that tore up my spine and into my mind was like a molten trail of metal burning me from the inside out, incinerating the air in my lungs as it turned my senses to ash.

  My vision faded to black, and it was all I could do to stand there and hold, the projection a bubble ready to burst.

  It was boiling over, and my lungs expanded as I clung to my casting for all that I was worth.

  Hold.

  My heels dug into rock as every ounce of my will battled his.

  Hold.

  Spots of red mixed in with black, and I wasn’t sure if I would die from the casting or the flames writhing inside my head.

  And then, like a bit of flint against steel, my magic caught. The casting ignited. A wave of cool relief washed over my bones as the weight disappeared.

  My vision returned as I collapsed, keeled over with my face between my legs. The lightning was gone.

  I spewed saliva and blood as I gulped in great gasps of air.

  “You’ve gotten better.”

  I glanced up through sweaty bangs. Darren was leaning heavily against a column of ice, one hand propped up to keep him from falling, his other on his knee as he swallowed, his crown askew.

  The rapid depletion of stamina had taken its toll on both of us.

  “My tolerance for pain got better,” I choked, “after a week in your brother’s dungeon.”

  For just a moment, a frown graced his mouth, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. “Nothing more than you deserved.”

  I forced myself to rise. “You didn’t think so then.”

  The Black Mage approached, one step at a time as the hem of his black robe dragged along ice.

  “Back then I thought you were someone else.” His eyes met mine, and what I saw was bitter and cold. A wasteland of desolation and hate. “My mistake.”

  A trickle of heat slunk down the back of my neck as the two of us returned to our fighting stance, a bit worse for wear than before.

  My mind raced as I tried to decide which casting to turn to next. From the throbbing ache in my head, I knew my stamina was dangerously close to its end. I had depleted close to a third of my stores on the trek up the mountain and Darren was no ordinary mage. He held nothing back; each attack was like a battering ram against my head.

  I bit down on my cheek as I caught sight of gleaming metal across the away. I had dropped my sword before the lightning, and now I was too far to reach it. I had two arm sheaths with daggers, but they meant close combat if I didn’t cast. Darren would deflect any attack from a distance; my only hope was to press the advantage up close.

  But that meant exposing myself.

  I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to stand that close and do what needed to be done. All those years of training had never prepared me for the enemy being someone I knew. Someone I loved.

  Someone I still—

  Don’t finish that thought. I fished the first dag
ger from its holds and made my approach.

  “Run out of magic already, love?” Darren’s smile was cold.

  “You fought three mages and I’ve only had you.” I gave him my best smirk; it was too strained, and I knew he wouldn’t believe it for a second. “I think the odds are in my favor now.”

  “You must have forgotten our duel in Langli.” Darren discarded the belt and scabbard at his waist. Then he reached into his robe. Attached to his upper arms were daggers identical to my own. “I don’t need magic to beat you, Ryiah. I don’t even need two blades.”

  Darren pulled the first dagger to his palm, flipping the hilt up and then down with the flick of his fingers. I watched it spin outside his wrist.

  Could this really be it? That our final battle would come to this?

  The two of us circled closely now, our eyes locked on the other’s form. I could feel my pulse against my throat. It beat louder and louder as I took a daring step forward, the blade drawn back against my side.

  Darren crooked the blade from his shoulder. He was going to counter my attack with the traditional grip. I might have speed with the reverse, but his stance had reach. He didn’t need agility when he knew every lunge would outdistance my own.

  But we both had to play to our strengths. Dexterity for the reckless lowborn and brute strength for the boy who had it all.

  It was anyone’s guess, but I was determined to win.

  I was the first to lunge. Something about the wait, about wanting to end this before my emotions played a part, had me foregoing my regular approach.

  I swept in low and slashed to the left as Darren stepped just out of reach.

  “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  Our boots scratched against the slippery ground.

  Again, I lunged, this time with a feint high and a jab toward the ribs.

  But Darren wasn’t fooled. He caught my arm and twisted, bearing down on my blade arm as he swung his dagger down from above.

  I ducked and rolled, but not before the hot bite of metal caught my shoulder in passing.

  I narrowly avoided a curse as I fell back, dripping red. The wound was shallow, but Darren had drawn first blood, and it didn’t bode well this early in the fight.

  Darren lunged forward, and I sidestepped his attack. I sent a cross-punch, slashing out diagonally with my blade.