Last Stand (The Black Mage Book 4)

by Rachel E. Carter

  Then he turned and left, without looking back.

  I spread the blanket across Darren’s legs and my own. The second healer knelt to my side and saw to my wounds.

  I hardly noticed the pain.

  It was only as I was drifting to sleep that my fingers brushed a bit of parchment tucked tightly into the folds of my blanket.

  The last thing I remembered was Ian’s nod, and then I closed my fist around the paper and drifted to sleep.

  I know you are planning something. Whatever it is, I want to help.

  -Ian

  I read the words over and over again. It was late into the night, and the guards had grown lax, content to chatter amongst themselves instead of watching the rest of us for hours on end. They had our weapons, and there was only one exit to the dungeon; they weren’t concerned.

  Planning something… Want to help.

  Darren tossed and turned at my side. A fever had broken out within hours of Alex’s casting. My brother was still seeing to Darren’s healing—constantly assuring me that the fever was a good sign, that he could now fight off infection on his own—but most of Alex’s treatment had changed to that of a court physician.

  We had to let the fever run its course.

  Darren’s side of the blanket was soaked with sweat. He alternated between shivers and burning skin. He cried out in his sleep. Every time he did, it was like a dagger to the chest.

  Only this time I couldn’t save him.

  No magic.

  My fingers dug into the blanket. I’d never felt so helpless in my life.

  I took a shuddering breath as I repeated the lines, again.

  Planning something… Want to help.

  Was it a test for Priscilla and the rebels? Or did Ian truly want to help?

  Did it even matter?

  My pulse pounded in my throat.

  I knew what I had to do.

  Seven hours later, I was ready. I hated leaving Darren, but I didn’t have a choice. Plotting and gathering support would do more than pining away while he slept.

  Alex and Ella helped me back to my chamber in silence. I knew they were worried about me. I had refused to eat or drink anything since I awoke, but there were more pressing things on my mind.

  What I was about to say next, I couldn’t risk being overheard. But first…

  “Alex.” I addressed my twin as soon as he shut the door. “Can you find Ian?”

  “I knew it,” he muttered. “You are planning something, aren’t you?”

  “Please.”

  “You trust him?”

  I didn’t have a choice; I needed all the help we could get. What I was planning… it would be a miracle in itself. And Ian had shown true regret. He had also fought for me against the rebels. That would have to be enough. “Yes.”

  Twenty minutes later, my brother was back, Ian in tow.

  “You got my note?”

  There was a knot in my stomach, and it wouldn’t go away. I nodded.

  Ian took a spot next to Alex against the door. His fingers flickered momentarily, bright as he cast a barrier for sound just in case anyone was listening on the other side.

  “What I want to ask you all”—my fingers twisted in my lap—“I have no right to ask. It’s treason and I can’t promise we won’t get caught.”

  No one spoke.

  “I want to help Darren escape. I want to get him out of Jerar, and I’m going with him.” I met each one of their eyes. “If you want to walk away, I’ll understand. I just ask that you keep this plan between us. Give me a chance to do it myself.”

  “Are you really ready to exile yourself and live in hiding the rest of your life?” Alex fought to keep a neutral expression, and failed. “Priscilla and Horrace will send men to find you. It’s dangerous and”—his hands fisted at his sides—“if you are caught… Ry, I don’t want to lose you again. I-I already thought I lost you once. And after Derrick…”

  The knot in my chest expanded and I bit down on my cheek, hard. I knew what I was doing was selfish. Gods, I’d nearly lost myself when Derrick died. How could I subject Alex to my own death, twice?

  And how could I not—for Darren?

  “But what about Jerar?” Ella’s words were quiet. “What will happen if King Horrace finds out Darren escaped? Emperor Liang and King Joren might not care, but Horrace will. And the treaty would be void.”

  I exhaled. The truth was she was right. I didn’t want Caltoth to turn its back on a potential alliance with Jerar… but Horrace had been a peacemaker for decades. Perhaps nothing would come of it.

  “Horrace will be at the execution.” Ian cleared his throat. “Are you planning the break out then?”

  “It’s the only chance I’ll get.”

  Ella paled. “Horrace will know Darren’s alive, Ry. He’ll know Jerar didn’t fulfill his terms.”

  “I think—” Ian paused. “—I think if Horrace sees Priscilla making every effort to uphold the execution, he’ll still sign the treaty.” His eyes locked on my own. “My father met with him for years representing the rebels’ cause. Horrace is a reasonable man. The Caltothians owe us a debt for fighting their war. That’s not to say he won’t be upset.”

  Alex guffawed. “Horrace might sign the treaty, but he will make it his mission to hunt the two of them to the end of his days.”

  “That will be my problem, not yours.”

  “But neither of you have magic!” My brother was furious. “Horrace will send his best mages, and the two of you won’t be able to fight!”

  “We can still fight.” My eyes flashed. “Darren and I didn’t just train in magic, Alex.”

  My brother folded his arms, and Ian looked between the two of us, mouth gaping. “Why won’t they be able to fight?”

  “I lost my magic. We think Darren did too… I didn’t want to ask him around the guards.”

  “It was how they both survived.” Ella shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “It wasn’t luck, Ian. They both cast a mage’s last stand. The casting couldn’t kill them since they were saving each other, so it took their magic instead.”

  His eyes were wide. “Does anyone else know?”

  “No.” My response was firm. “And you can’t tell them. We need every advantage we can get.”

  “How would you propose the escape? There are going to be thousands of people and guards as far as the eye can see.”

  “I don’t know, but it’s going to be our only chance to get Darren outside. If we try now, we’d have to fight our way through an entire fortress with an army of soldiers inside.” I swallowed. “We need the other rulers to see it so they know the Crown wasn’t involved, so Horrace sees Priscilla making her best effort to honor his terms.”

  Ian cracked a smile. “Five days to plan the riskiest escape in the history of Jerar. Why doesn’t it surprise me the three of you are involved?”

  “I’ll understand if any of you choose to pass.”

  “Ryiah—” Ella’s fingers twined with my own, “—you don’t even have to ask.”

  “It’s selfish.” I stared down at our hands. “I could be making things worse for Jerar.”

  “We’ll ensure that doesn’t happen.”

  I clung to that promise like it was air.

  Ian cleared his throat. “I’ll help. Darren… I’m not sure what he deserves, but it isn’t an execution like this.”

  “Alex?” I looked to my brother.

  My twin ducked his head. “I just pray the gods are on our side.”

  In the days that passed, I was a walking shade. The first two were restless and emotional. I spent all of my time in the prison seeing to Darren and letting the others act, but as the third drew to a close, I was tired of waiting for answers. We had only two more days to plan, and one of those would be largely impossible; the queen’s ascension was expected to last most of the sixth.

  All communication was done by mouth.

  It was too risky to meet again. Now that we had a plan, it was up to Ian and Ella to g
ather what information they could and pass it along. Alex served as communication to me, and I maintained my guise of despair.

  I knew the rebels were watching me. But if my hands were clean, what could they claim?

  Our first stroke of luck came the fifth morning. Until that point, we’d had no solid leads on the execution. The soldiers had started building a gallows and Ian was one of the sentries guarding its construction.

  They were going to hang the king.

  For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

  I forgot all of our planning.

  All I could hear was the thump-thump of my pulse.

  How did you think they were going to kill a king? A casting of mercy? The people want a spectacle.

  You should thank the gods it wasn’t the guillotine.

  You can work with a noose. It will be easier to save him.

  You want to save him, don’t you?

  Yes?

  Then pull yourself together and ask the questions that matter. You only have two more days.

  I turned to my brother, my breaths shallow and fast. “What else did Ian say?”

  “He’s going to get an idea of the count. He said one of the men is finalizing their numbers for Quinn. Ian’s going to try and sneak a look tonight.”

  “If he fails?”

  “He’ll keep talking to the others. The guards are going to need an outline for the final formation. We’ll get their positions soon. And once we know the layout, we can stash some weapons for the day.”

  I nodded, heart racing. “Anything else?”

  “There was another summons while you were away. Priscilla wants you to meet with her in Commander Nyx’s old chamber before dinner. The messenger specifically noted that this was not a request.”

  “How am I supposed to face her?”

  Alex’s hand found my shoulder. “You will find a way. And no one will suspect a thing.”

  Hours later, I was put to the test.

  “You’re late.” Quinn greeted me with a scowl as I entered the room.

  Nyx’s old chamber looked exactly the same as when she’d been alive—barren save the thick rug and a seating area to the left.

  I was the last to arrive.

  I took my place at a long rectangular slab that served as the table. Priscilla was already seated with Marius at her left and Commander Audric to her right. Further down were Quinn and several of the rebels’ former command. And then there was Merrick, Priscilla’s cousin and quite possibly my least favorite mage until quite recently.

  A scribe was near the back, his quill scratching away.

  “Ryiah.” Priscilla smiled up at me, and for a moment I froze. She’d been kind the last time we met, but it was just as jarring to see her smiling now, when I was used to a smirk or a sneer.

  Where had the girl from the Academy gone?

  “I called this meeting because I wanted to discuss some upcoming changes for the Crown. I plan on making the announcements during the feast.”

  She didn’t wait for us to react, but, then again, she was about to be queen. “In a show of good will to Horrace, I will be altering some key positions among my staff.”

  Priscilla’s eyes found the gruff commander at her right. “Audric, you were the one to lead the Crown’s Army into Caltoth. No one here, and certainly not me, faults you for obeying your king’s orders, but that doesn’t take away your role in the war. And for that reason, I need you to step down.”

  The man’s hands fisted at his sides. “I’ve served the Crown loyally for decades.”

  “And I will repay you in kind.” Priscilla nodded to the scribe. “You will be given the title and lands of my father.”

  “What?” Merrick jumped up, sputtering. “That’s mine!”

  Priscilla gave her cousin a belittling smile. “You are disinherited from the family title.”

  “You can’t do this!” The boy’s face was purple with rage. “I’m your own blood!”

  “And I’m the queen.” The girl turned to a guard at the door. “Remove this one immediately.”

  The mage went kicking and screaming.

  A part of me, a small part, smiled.

  Priscilla returned to Audric. “You’ll also be commanding the Langli regiment. It’s not the Crown’s Army, but it’s the best I can do.”

  Audric didn’t speak. The young queen-to-be had just freely admitted he deserved better. Unheard of for the Crown.

  The commander finally spoke. “I accept your terms, but I won’t take part in the execution.” I finally noticed the shadows under his eyes. “Darren… he was like a son to me.”

  “Very well, I relieve you of any obligation to attend.” Priscilla’s eyes fell to the former Black Mage. “Marius, I would like you to be one of my advisors. You served Jerar well, and Horrace won’t contest your presence. You were still in the desert when the Crown’s Army marched on Caltoth.”

  The mage nodded, his gold hoop dangling in the flickering light. For a second, his eyes flitted to me, and I saw quiet defeat. Someone must have told him about his sister’s role in the war—and mine in her death. There was no hate, but he looked older than before. The truth had aged him.

  I bit back the silent regret that followed. War had stolen from us all.

  “Quinn, you are now head mage of the King’s Regiment. I need someone I can trust, but more so, I need a lowborn guard the people will respect.”

  “Ray, Klaus, Jeremiah, Tianna, Cade, Baxter, Silas, Ailith, you will be given lead positions over key regiments in the Crown’s Army. The former command will step down and be displaced to city regiments. And last…” Priscilla turned to me. “I want you to be my Black Mage, Ryiah.”

  I stared, disbelieving and numb. Does she honestly think this is what I want? Now? After everything that had passed?

  “You are the best. And you fought for the rebels to the end.”

  She was really asking me to take Darren’s place.

  “You wouldn’t make a good queen.” Priscilla had the decency to avert her gaze. “The people need someone who understands the intrigues of court, Ryiah, especially in the delicate state we are in… but I would be willing to grant you a dukedom, the highest rank in nobility save my own.”

  I waited for her to finish. She was trying, but she wasn’t offering the one thing I wanted. And she knew it.

  “I don’t accept.”

  The room went silent.

  Priscilla’s tone was clipped. “I’m giving you everything I can.”

  “You can’t buy me off with fancy titles.” My teeth gnashed together as I spoke. “You want my allegiance? Call off Darren’s execution instead.”

  Everyone’s eyes were on me. I had just disrespected our future queen and the robe I had always claimed to want.

  Funny, it took losing everything to understand what truly mattered in the end.

  “You know I can’t.”

  I snarled. “The only reason you are holding Darren accountable is because he’s a martyr!”

  “He was a king and the Black Mage.” Priscilla’s voice had taken on a discernable edge. “Whether you like it or not, his actions have consequences. That’s what being a sovereign means.”

  “And yours?” I slammed my fist on the table. Might as well make this a show. Priscilla would never expect me to take to Darren’s execution easily. “You’re willing to persecute a man you once meant to marry? A man you admired enough to call your friend?”

  “I do what I have to for the people, Ryiah.” She glared at me. “You’ve always been too reckless. You couldn’t possibly understand.”

  “I understand perfectly.” I rose and shoved my chair to the side.

  “I’m not finished—”

  “You want my advice?” I turned from the door. “End the Candidacy and take away the factions. Let people train for whatever magic they want. Is it any wonder Darren chose war when our legacy had us preparing for it our entire lives?”

  When I finally reached the hall, I half expected a guard to
come after me. But no one did. For a second time, I had disrespected the queen-to-be and she had let me walk away.

  She’s not Lucius or Blayne. She’ll make a better queen.

  I just wanted her to save him.

  Not every story has a happy ending.

  No, but I would make sure Darren’s did.

  After dinner, I found my way up the winding stairs and looming walls to the dungeon just beyond. The two guards on duty heaved a heavy sigh, and then I was in.

  Darren was leaning against the furthest wall of his cell, the back of his head slumped against the wall. There was a wooden barrel of water for washing and a pile of discarded blankets at his feet.

  Darren’s bruises still hadn’t faded. His eyes were open when I arrived.

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  “I told you I would.”

  “I wish you’d reconsider.” His voice was empty of all emotion and remorse.

  Darren didn’t want me here. I’d discovered this the day the fever had finally passed.

  Now there was only a cold stranger in his place.

  “You can hope.” I waited as the nearest guard unlocked the bars to Darren’s cell. “But that won’t keep me away.”

  Darren didn’t reply; he just shut his eyes and exhaled.

  I took the moment to study him. I knew every cut and bruise along his arms. I could see the dent of his ribs and the gaunt lines of his face. Even the sharp curve of his jaw—a determined slant since I’d arrived.

  My brother could only heal so much. He’d seen to Darren’s chest, and then Priscilla had sent him away.

  It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close.

  “I know why you came.”

  Darren’s rasp tugged at my heart.

  “You don’t know anything.”

  The prisoner opened his eyes and smiled; it was cloaked with regret. “You want to save me… but you can’t.”

  “I will.”

  “Love.” His words were bleak. “I don’t want to be saved.”

  I knew what he believed. I could read it in his eyes. But it wasn’t his choice.

  Darren didn’t get to give up after everything.

  I wouldn’t let the darkness win.

  He had fought for me those weeks after Derrick’s death, and it was my turn to fight for him.