Last Stand (The Black Mage Book 4)

by Rachel E. Carter

  Most recorded acts were performed by mages under the instruction of commanders during war, a sacrifice for the rest. Because the act is fleeting and final, our scholars are still attempting to study the full extent of this casting. It is possible there are some effects and/or facts yet missing from our account.

  So this was death.

  It felt different than expected. To be fair, I had never expected to feel anything. From the stories of the Shadow God and his realm of lonely souls, I had never expected to experience thought. So the idea that I was conscious and could feel… It was both a blessing and a curse.

  Perhaps it was more of a curse.

  The things I felt… they weren’t pleasant.

  Whoever said pain left you after death, well, clearly they had never died. Because I felt everything.

  There was an inferno in my chest. I was on fire. My lungs burned up from the inside, and jolts of hot, piercing agony ran up and down my spine. My mouth tasted of ash.

  And then came the memories.

  I hadn’t known the dead retained them.

  I wished we couldn’t.

  More than the pain, it was the memories I wanted to stop.

  Why would one wish to live out an eternity remembering everything they lost?

  I hadn’t lived out the happily ever after my parents promised. Not even close.

  Here? Forced to feel? I was bitter and angry.

  I was going to spend the rest of eternity regretting the life I never got.

  I took a ragged breath, cursing the hot air that burned down every inch of my lungs.

  Wait.

  I can breathe?

  What else could I do?

  My eyelids fluttered open and a blur of color overloaded my sight. Flashes of color and faces. So many faces.

  It was right then I started to hear. Voices. Familiar and excited. Some of them were shouting my name.

  They were so far away, but they were here.

  Were they real?

  My heart thundered in my ears and spots danced before my eyes. It was all too much. I couldn’t handle all of my senses overloading me at once.

  Time ceased to be.

  The next time I regained consciousness, the room was quiet and there were no faces to see.

  I was able to adjust to the darkness and silence much easier than the noise.

  It took close to an hour just to accept this was real.

  A room. Not a shadow-filled realm. Familiar and cold. Rough, gray stone and a single window lined with bars.

  I lay on a bunk made of pine. To my right was a small dresser lined with vials of all different colors and sizes. Some of the labels I could read; from what I gathered, they were for healing.

  Was I truly alive?

  I flexed my fingers and toes, and immediately regretted it as a fresh, biting pain swept over the subsiding ache from before. I definitely hurt. And from the bandages wrapped around my chest and hand, I suspected I wasn’t dead.

  How?

  Something was wrong.

  I had cast my last stand. My life had ended there in that cavern made of ice. If I was alive…

  Had I made a mistake?

  Gods.

  Was—No.

  No.

  I would not accept that.

  I’d died for him. If the rebels had found a way to save me, if my casting hadn’t worked, then they would have saved him too. Alex and Ella would’ve made sure he was alive. For me.

  So why was I so afraid?

  Even though I felt like I was ripping every muscle under my skin, I pushed myself off the cot and went to the window instead.

  Just as my suspicion led, I recognized the familiar landscape below. Flickering torches and fortified walls. The remains of a recovering forest just beyond.

  I was back in Ferren’s Keep. And from the number of tents and men milling on the ground, the Crown’s Army and rebel force had returned to Jerar.

  Was the war over?

  Is Darren—

  I staggered out of the room with my hand sliding along the rough granite for support. I needed to find him. I needed to find someone.

  I didn’t have to travel that far.

  There were two guards posted a couple yards down the hall from my door. I thanked the gods I didn’t have to travel that far; already there were shooting pains in my stomach, and my legs were seconds from collapse. I wouldn’t last much longer.

  “Please…” My tongue was as dry as sand. “Tell me where I can…” Another shuddering breath. “…find the k-king.”

  “The king?” The older guard exchanged looks with his comrade. “You mean our queen?”

  “She means the prisoner,” the second said. “She just awoke. No one has told her.”

  “Prisoner?” Blood rushed to my head and spots flooded my eyes. Darren was a prisoner? But he’s alive! Who was the queen?

  I started to totter and a pair of burly arms caught me before I fell.

  “Get her back to the chambers,” the second murmured. “I’ll send word for a healer.”

  “My…” My lips were so heavy. “My… brother…”

  “That’s right.” The soldier’s voice was fading. “I remember now. We’ll get you Alex too. He’s one of them.”

  And then I drifted away. Again.

  “—Not going to wake her. She needs rest!”

  “Quinn won’t be happy.”

  “I don’t care whose orders they are, Jace! If that man wants answers, he’ll have to come down here himself. When I say he can!”

  There was an angry grumble and then the slamming of wood.

  A second later, I opened my eyes. I was in the same room as before, only this time Ella was on my bed, brushing hair from my forehead.

  I blinked, and her fingers froze upon my face.

  “I’m going to kill that man.” Alex was somewhere near the wall, swearing, “After what he—”

  “Alex.” Ella cleared her throat. The two of us were staring, and I couldn’t speak. My heart was a pulsing tangle of emotions, and I wasn’t even sure this was real. “She’s awake.”

  “Ry!” Alex spun around and gasped.

  I thought I’d never see him again. Something crumbled in my lungs.

  I mouthed his name.

  My twin dove forward with a cry. His arms locked around my shoulders, too tight, but I couldn’t bring myself to push him away. He was sobbing into my hair.

  “I thought I lost you.”

  I swallowed back the lump in my throat. I thought I’d lost everyone.

  I was never supposed to wake up.

  Ella tugged on my brother’s sleeve. “Alex, you are hurting her.”

  My brother pulled away, shame-faced. “I’m sorry, I just…”

  I took a shaky breath and smiled, shaking my head. But I still couldn’t speak.

  Ella adjusted some pillows so that I could sit up. Her fingers trembled as she brushed my wrist. She was fighting hard to keep herself in check.

  All three of us were struggling to hold back.

  Ella was the first to speak. Her eyes were glassy. “You should be dead, Ry.”

  “Quinn gave the orders to collapse the cave…” My brother’s hand sought my own, squeezing. “We tried to stop the others. Even Ian.”

  I remembered their screams and the moment I realized what they meant just before the ceiling came crashing down.

  “They outnumbered us,” Ella rasped.

  “And then we found you—”

  “You were buried under glaciers the size of a house.”

  “You should have died, Ry.”

  Why am I not dead?

  “The rebels”—my voice was hoarse as I forced the words aloud—“didn’t s-save me?”

  My brother’s face was pale. “We got there too late. I did what I could after, but… you shouldn’t have survived that.”

  Ella hesitated. “There was a dagger in your chest, and Darren had another in his. Between your wounds and the cave—”

  I didn�
�t hear the rest of her words. Something she had said was wrong. “There was a d-dagger in his c-chest?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  How could I? “Ella, I-I didn’t…. The d-dagger wasn’t mine.” I tried again. “Did o-one of the r-rebels…?”

  “It was there when we got there.” Alex’s brow was furrowed. “Wish it had been me. The scum stabbed his own wife.” My twin rattled on angrily, but something was still wrong.

  How did the dagger get there?

  Did Darren try to end his life when he saw the cave crumbling down? But then, how did he survive?

  How are either of us alive?

  I lurched forward as sudden panic swarmed my chest. “Alex,” I choked, “h-he’s alive, isn’t he? The guards said—”

  Alex and Ella exchanged looks. “Yes, but—”

  I didn’t hear the rest. Yes was all I needed. My pulse pounded in my ears; I could breathe again.

  “Ryiah.” My brother stared hard at my face. “He stabbed you in the heart.”

  “It’s not what you—”

  “Darren tried to kill you!” Alex’s face was scarlet as he started to yell. “Tell me how you can possibly defend that!”

  “Alex.” It hurt to raise my voice. “I stabbed myself.”

  Ella grabbed my brother before he could lunge. “Why in the name of the gods would you do something like that?”

  Deep breath. And again.

  “It was my last stand, Alex.”

  My brother fell back in Ella’s arms, sputtering. “What?”

  I waited for the truth to sink in.

  “You were trying to save him?” My brother looked so betrayed. “Why? How could you, Ryiah?”

  Ella’s eyes hadn’t left my face. “Darren finally believed you, didn’t he?”

  My brother froze, his face going as white as a sheet.

  I couldn’t speak; I just nodded.

  Ella was still trying to piece together the events. “While the two of you were alone… you finally got through to him.”

  Alex’s hand squeezed my wrist so hard I was surprised it didn’t break. I forced myself to use words. “N-not at first. I’m not sure w-what I did to convince him… But he saved my life near t-the end.”

  My brother’s grip lessened, but only slightly.

  “And that’s when you cast your last stand… to save him?”

  I nodded; Ella took a shaky breath.

  “Ryiah, if you didn’t do it and the rebels didn’t… that means it was him.”

  “H-him?”

  “We were wondering how you both lived.” She looked me in the eye. “You cast a last stand… That might explain why Darren is alive, but not you…” She sucked in a sharp breath. “There is only one explanation that makes any sense.”

  The realization hit me like a rock.

  Why hadn’t I thought of it before? The dagger in his chest.

  “He cast a last stand.”

  Darren tried to save me too.

  “It’s how both of you survived.” Ella’s eyes were as wide as moons.

  “Each casting… canceled the other’s price.” Alex’s voice was hoarse. He was struggling to process Darren’s benevolence with the violent villain of the past. “It’s never been done. Why nobody knew, not even the healers…”

  It shouldn’t have worked.

  But it did.

  A last stand was a selfless magic. Perhaps it didn’t have to make sense.

  Ella cleared her throat, and I caught her guarded look with my brother. “We need to tell her.”

  I stared at the two of them, trying to decipher their glance. Then I remembered the guards from before. The prisoner.

  “Darren’s in the dungeon, isn’t he?”

  Ella flinched, and Alex wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “There’s more.” My friend swallowed. “Ry, when we found the two of you and you were still alive… The healers immediately saw to you, but Darren… We didn’t know he’d turned. He was alive, but barely.”

  Alex lifted his chin. “The rest of our band helped carry him down to call off the Crown’s Army command… But when we were done, and Darren had somehow miraculously survived, which we know now was the effect of your casting, there was too much confusion. The people needed time to adjust.”

  Fear cinched my throat. “W-what are you saying?”

  “His execution is set a week from today. A day after the new ruler is crowned.”

  For a moment, I couldn’t hear anything. Every part of me was ringing as I tried to calm down.

  This isn’t the end. The new ruler doesn’t know. We can change this. I can explain.

  “The declaration has already been made. Announcements were sent by envoy to every city in Jerar. The other kingdoms are already involved.”

  “Who is it?” Whoever it was, I would see them at once, even if I had to have Alex and Ella carry me every step of the way.

  “Priscilla.”

  My jaw dropped. Her? Of all the potential rulers in Jerar?

  “But she’s a mage!”

  “So was Darren, and she has already renounced her robe for the Crown.”

  Alex couldn’t look at me as he picked up where Ella left off. “The advisors needed someone to satisfy the rebel leaders and the influential families of court. She was the best choice.”

  Priscilla belonged to the house with the greatest wealth. The most power. It was why Darren’s father had arranged a betrothal so many years before.

  “But she served the Crown’s Army, why wouldn’t the rebels object?”

  “Baron Langli passed away the week before Jerar went to war. Priscilla never got to fight.” Ella looked bitter. “Her hands are clean. She never took rebel lives. We have no other suitable candidates except you…”

  And they would never agree to it. I may have fought for the rebels, but I’d betrayed their plans in the end. I was the wife of a traitor king.

  And there it was. My nemesis, the girl who had always wanted the crown, was going to end up a queen.

  I had never seen it coming.

  “I need to talk to her now.” My jaw was hard. As soon as Priscilla heard my case, she would pardon Darren for his crimes. I’d make sure of it.

  “You think she’ll listen to you?” Ella bit her lip. “Ryiah, she hates you. Perhaps we should—”

  “She’s not who we thought.” I met my friend’s gaze confidently with my own. “Trust me, Priscilla will listen.”

  The girl wasn’t a tyrant like Blayne. There were parts of her I admired.

  “If that’s what you really want…”

  I nodded and braced my palms against the bed, trying hard not to wince as pain shot up my arms like knives.

  Alex made a sound in the back of his throat. “You’re not ready.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “We’ve got a week—”

  “Alex.” Ella cut my brother off with a disapproving scowl. “Would you wait a week for me?”

  My brother’s face fell. I knew he wanted me to rest, but he couldn’t argue with that.

  And so we began our walk.

  We found Priscilla at the highest turret overlooking the keep.

  She looked different somehow. Or perhaps this was who she was always intended to be.

  Her spine was erect, shoulders straight. Dressed in a blood red gown and lace with her hair pinned up, long ebony locks curled slightly against the back of her neck, Priscilla looked every bit a highborn queen.

  A queen with Darren’s fate in her hands.

  She was deep in conversation with Quinn and two Crown advisors I vaguely recognized from my life at the palace in Devon.

  As soon as we arrived, the others’ attention flitted to the stairs where my brother and friend supported me between their arms.

  Quinn choked at the sight. “Ryiah—”

  “Don’t.” My brother took a step forward, snarling. “Don’t you dare address my sister after what you did.”

  “Quinn is here on my orders.�
� Priscilla’s curt voice cut off my twin’s reply. “He is not yours to command.”

  Alex started to grumble, and my nails dug into his arm. I needed the girl to listen, and I wasn’t sure where we stood.

  The future queen fixated on my face. “I had no idea you were awake.”

  “Please.” My voice was strained—it had taken a great deal of effort to climb those steps, and I was dangerously close to collapse. “Can we have an audience… alone?”

  Priscilla didn’t even hesitate. Apparently I had risen in her esteem after my latest trip to the infirmary. “Quinn, you, Fletcher, and Claudius are dismissed.”

  It was the first time Priscilla had ever treated me with something I would almost deem as respect.

  The mage and two elderly men scowled in passing, but I kept my gaze locked on the queen. I wasn’t sure I could acknowledge the former knowing he gave the orders to bury me alive. It might have been the best decision for Jerar, but it was also the reason Darren and I had nearly died.

  I waited until they were gone. “Thank you.”

  “It’s nothing.” Priscilla made a flippant gesture with her hand and smirked. “Now why are you three here? I trust it was not to congratulate me on my upcoming coronation.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  Priscilla raised a brow at Ella. “And I see you haven’t changed one bit.”

  “You made my best friend miserable for years.”

  “She was a threat. She understands. Don’t you, Ryiah?”

  I nudged Ella who was busy spitting back a reply. “Let her be.”

  My best friend ground her teeth but didn’t speak again.

  “You are to be queen.”

  Priscilla lifted her chin. “You aren’t getting my crown.”

  “I don’t want it. I need you to pardon Darren for his crimes.”

  Ten seconds went by and nobody spoke. I watched as her expression went from disbelieving to incredulous.

  “You are joking.”

  “It’s not what—”

  “You were a rebel,” Priscilla sputtered. “You know what he and his family did. Quinn told me everything… Gods, Darren had patrols hunting you, Ryiah. I know you always were a little slack-jawed where that boy was concerned, but I should think the moment he tried to kill you, you’d finally grow some sense.”