by Everly Frost
Nathaniel’s gaze rises to me as the dragon flies toward him. Any distraction could get him killed, but I don’t miss the fierce smile that touches his lips when he sees me.
He knew I wouldn’t stay out of the fight.
My power demands to be released into the regrouping fae flying above Nathaniel, but I have to control it, concentrate it, and target my enemies carefully. Any reckless action on my part could get Nathaniel’s people killed.
Just as I prepare to take aim, the Vanem Dragon rapidly ascends. I glance back to see that the fae who followed us have also regrouped, now blasting alternating streams of fire and ice at me.
The Vanem Dragon quickly plummets again, right above the fae attacking Nathaniel. I lean over the dragon’s side, barely holding on as I extend my left arm beneath his wing and target the Solstice fae soaring directly toward Nathaniel, her power building around her torso. She’s approaching from his back this time, timing her attack to the moment when Snake lashes out so that Nathaniel will be most vulnerable.
Starlight shoots from my hand, more than I intended, straight into her chest. It washes away her power before it cuts through her body. She doesn’t even scream. Her body folds up before she falls off her bird. She’s dead before she hits the ground, landing at one of the remaining hunters’ feet.
I squeeze my eyes shut, suddenly afraid of the power inside me, afraid of its destruction—how quickly it cut down a woman I would have once protected.
A blast of wind around us forces me to focus.
The fae who are following us are coordinating their attacks, the Frost fae combining their power over the wind to upset the Vanem Dragon’s flight, forcing him into the path of the Solstice fae’s firelight.
Flames sizzle past my torso, far too close for comfort.
“You must stay alive!” the Vanem Dragon roars, as if he hears my internal doubts. “They are not your people anymore. You must fight with everything you have. Even if your power makes you afraid.”
Every time I fought to keep Nathaniel alive, I told myself it would lead to the best outcome for my people—the fae. But the Vanem Dragon is right.
I have no people.
I only have family. I have Crispin and Evander. Talsa. Possibly Serena in her own way.
But more than anyone else in my life, I have Nathaniel.
Imatra tried to make me believe that I had no choice about loving him, but when he held my heart for all of those years… it just meant that we knew each other before we met.
Rising to my feet, I balance on the Vanem Dragon’s back, face the oncoming fae, and let my power loose. Opening up the vast chasm inside my chest, I allow the old magic to flow through me. Blasting starlight through the hearts of the fae chasing after us, I cut through their bodies one by one, knocking them off their birds, filling the sky with starlight and blood as if I’m blasting snowflakes with Evander again. Except that this game is deadly.
I spin, turning in every direction, my power streaming from me in fatal bolts, clearing the sky above Nathaniel.
His roar draws my attention to the hunters on the ground. Nathaniel shouts for Hagan and Christiana as he clashes with Snake. Nathaniel’s halberd pushes against Snake’s upraised sword. The light in the halberd drives away the darkness around Snake’s body, making him vulnerable—but only for a moment. On Nathaniel’s left, Hagan’s dagger is a blur, his muscles bunching as he drives his weapon into Snake’s exposed side. At the same time, Christiana’s sword tears through Snake’s throat.
The hunter falls, crushing flowers beneath his big body.
My breath catches in my throat as Nathaniel’s weapon meets the next hunter while Hagan and Christiana fight beside him, the three coordinating their attacks now, as if they’d practiced them many times before. Together, they plow through the remaining hunters with swift, brutal cuts.
Cyrian roars in anger, but he still has his wolves and bears to protect himself—as well as his dark magic.
I’m wary of Imatra as she drops to her thunderbird’s back in the distance. It looks like she’s preparing to fly toward us now, and I have to keep Nathaniel alive.
“Dragon!” I scream.
He responds immediately, spearing a path toward the wolves and the bears. I may not be able to kill Imatra or Cyrian, but I can protect Nathaniel the same way I protected him from the wolves on our second day.
Just as my arms extend, a heavy blast knocks me off the dragon’s back.
The impact is like a hook, wrenching me toward the ground.
I tumble, trying to get my feet under myself before I hit the ground, but the force dragging me down yanks me off-balance, pulling my shoulders faster than my legs. I thud into the earth, hitting it on my side just as I identify the source of the power: Cyrian.
Pain explodes through me. My power releases but sputters beneath the overwhelming dark light washing over me in waves.
It reeks of death. Sickening. Turning my stomach.
The ground shifts beneath me and thick ropes rise out of the earth, pushing up from beneath the mud to coil around my feet and torso. They slide around me like snakes, hissing and pulling tight.
My power recovers enough to explode through my arms and legs, but it splits around the ropes holding me. Strands of my power flow beyond me, reaching the edge of the Misty Gallows and passing through it like glowing ribbons.
For a second, forms light up inside the mist.
Human forms. All of them bound and gagged.
Many of them are dead, sprawled in the mud, their glassy eyes turned in my direction. I’m shocked to see Ethel, and the other lords and ladies, among the dead. Ethel’s arm twitches, as if her life energy was just consumed to create the ropes that now bind me.
Cyrian has been using their life energy to power his dark magic, killing the humans one by one.
Even his allies aren’t safe.
Inside the Misty Gallows, a female figure runs between the dead, stopping beside a girl who still lives. As the woman enters the wash of my light, I recognize Mathilda. She carries a knife that she uses to swiftly cut through the girl’s bindings, releasing her, urging her to run. The moment the child is free, Mathilda turns to the next person, but she’s too close to Cyrian now.
Her eyes widen as she sees me across the distance. Dark light flickers around her body, a protective shield. Even so, Cyrian’s dark magic is strong enough to bind me. Mathilda won’t be able to fight it.
I scream at her to run, but the next wave of Cyrian’s dark light builds, breaking through her shield and sucking the life energy from her body before she can move.
She drops to the ground, her eyes vacant.
Her power gives Cyrian more strength than the humans’ energy did. The ropes around me tighten, squeezing the breath out of my chest while I struggle against them.
“Aura!” the dragon shouts above me. “Get up!”
Fire builds inside the dragon’s mouth as he prepares to pour flames across the ground between me and Cyrian, but a new blast of magic hits his side, flames exploding across his entire body. His wings fold up and his eyes glaze over. He tumbles from the air and crashes into the mud, his big body plowing into the trees, breaking them apart as he comes to a stop and lies still.
Imatra soars toward me, standing upright on her thunderbird, her arms lowering. Far behind her, four fae women suddenly fall from their birds, dead. Just like Cyrian, she is now using her people to make herself stronger.
She leaps from her bird, landing gracefully on the ground, striding toward me at the same rapid pace as Cyrian, both of their arms outstretched, dark light streaming at me from both sides.
My power pulses, pushing back, forcing the ropes to loosen, but the sickening stench of death fills my head, flowing in on me.
Another three women fall in the distance.
I can’t see the remaining humans hidden in the mist, but I sense their quiet screams before they fall silent.
“I pulled you from the sky, Aura,” Imatra screams at me, her once-beautif
ul features twisted and cruel. “I will bury you in the ground.”
Across the clearing, the bears and wolves I was trying to subdue are now free, running at Nathaniel, their teeth slashing at the air, claws slicing as they leap at him.
Impossibly, his focus is on me.
If I die, he dies.
But the fear in his eyes is not for himself.
“Aura!” he shouts, a second before the first wolf reaches him and he’s forced to switch his focus.
Hagan punches one of the wolves from the air while Christiana steps in front of another, spearing it through its belly. The wolves’ attacks are unnatural, fearless, fueled by dark magic that makes them mindless as their teeth and claws slash at everything around them.
The bears are close behind them. One of them leaps onto Hagan’s back, mauling at him as he tries to fight a wolf, while a second bear crashes into Nathaniel, its claws cutting across his chest as it knocks him to the ground. Christiana screams, wildly stabbing at the back of the bear attacking Nathaniel before another wolf leaps at her, forcing her to defend herself.
The bear that knocked into Nathaniel rears up, preparing to rip out his throat.
The flickers in my chest stop.
This time, I can’t stop it from happening. I can’t be his shield.
Light bursts from Nathaniel’s chest, tearing through the bear’s body. The spike of his halberd rams into its throat. With a roar of effort, he pushes the animal off himself and rolls to his feet.
He’s covered in blood now and I don’t know how much of it is his.
In a glowing burst of light, he spins, cutting through the bear that is tearing at Hagan before Nathaniel whirls and slices the head off the wolf attacking Christiana.
As the last animal dies, Christiana and Hagan both drop to the ground, wounded. They drag themselves across the dirt when Nathaniel shouts, “Stay behind me!”
The moment that Hagan and Christiana are clear, Nathaniel drops to one knee, knocking his halberd into the ground. The explosion of light magic streams across the clearing toward me, blasting Cyrian off his feet, hitting Imatra so hard that she flies backward.
The explosion burns through the ropes around me, and the scent of death lifts.
My head clears, filled with Nathaniel’s light.
The old magic inside me responds, raising me to my feet. The sensation of freedom inside me makes me feel weightless.
On either side of me, Cyrian and Imatra recover, dark light building around them again, their faces gray and sallow, their eyes lit up with malice, as they storm back to me.
My magic swells as I extend my arms out at them, but Nathaniel also runs toward me, his arms pumping, legs stretching, racing to reach me before they do. Every muscle in his body tenses, his dark eyes burning through me, more scorching than any magic I’ve ever felt.
He swings his weapon as he shouts, “Aura, get down!”
Dropping back into a crouch, I duck as his weapon’s gleaming blade slices across the air above my body.
It thuds into Cyrian’s chest, cutting right through him. Cyrian’s chest separates in a spray of blood as the light magic slices through the dark magic building around him. The darkness shrieks like a living thing, mingling with Cyrian’s dying roar.
In a spray of blood, Nathaniel wrenches the weapon upward, spinning in the other direction and swinging the blade again.
The gleaming steel carves a path through the dark light building around Imatra.
Her scream shrieks around me, her magic pushing back, but my starlight glows. Not toward her. My power streams into Nathaniel, filling the space between us, uniting with the flickers of my starlight that already exist inside his body. Our power—his and mine combined—gleams as sharp as his blade.
Imatra attempts to harness the fae powers she always claimed she had but the wind is a feeble breeze around her now. The vines she attempts to conjure from the ground shrivel before they can twine around us. Her sputtering power cuts off as abruptly as her scream.
Nathaniel’s weapon sails through her neck, separating her head from her body.
Her magic vanishes.
My chest heaves. My breaths are short and sharp as I look up at Nathaniel.
Silence falls around the battlefield. Every human and fae stops mid-swing, mid-flight, pulling away from each other.
Before I can stand, Nathaniel kneels to me, brushing his palm across my cheek. “Imatra and Cyrian are dead,” he says, his speech formal, as if he’s speaking what he’s required to say. “My Betrayers have fallen. The Fell throne is mine. The Path of the King Betrayed… has ended.”
In the distance, Hagan and Christiana huddle on the bloody ground. Hagan pulls her close, stroking her hair, rubbing her back while she curls up against him, sobbing against his chest. She tilts her head back to see him. I can’t hear what she says to him, but it’s not for me to know regardless.
In the distance, the battle between the humans and fae has stopped. The fae who were loyal to Imatra are retreating beyond the battle lines, a sign that they don’t intend to resume fighting. At least for now.
Serena and the others haven’t landed, soaring cautiously to the side. They fought for the humans, but Nathaniel’s people won’t trust them easily and they must avoid any actions that could be interpreted as aggressive right now.
In the distance, the Vanem Dragon stirs, signs that he’s recovering.
“It’s over,” I whisper.
Nathaniel slides his arms around me, pulling me close while we remain kneeling, but his jaw is tense, his breathing too fast, his heart thudding too rapidly in my ears. I tell myself it’s from the battle, that my own chest is flickering because of exertion. It has nothing to do with the growing dread building inside me.
“Nathaniel?” I tilt my head back to find him looking up at the sky, the same way he looked up before he invoked the Path.
The sky is lighter. The sun will rise soon.
“It’s not over,” he says, a truth I dread.
He crushes me close, but I refuse to release him from my gaze. I start speaking slowly, then more quickly. “The Vanem Dragon said… the Law of Champions was suspended.”
“Suspended. Not over.” Nathaniel brushes my cheeks as if he could hold me forever. He drops his forehead to mine, a light press, but I sense the urgency in his movement.
He whispers what I’m afraid to hear. “I don’t want to fight you, Aura.”
Chapter 26
A shiver rocks my body.
If we refuse to fight, we die at dawn. I don’t know who I’m fighting for now that Imatra is dead, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m prepared to face my fate.
Nathaniel doesn’t want to fight me, but I won’t accept that. I won’t allow him to die.
I shove him away from me, taking hold of my power and containing it within me, even though I want to release it with a scream of anger.
Nathaniel remains kneeling on the ground, his hair clinging to his blood-splattered cheeks, his lips drawn but not without mercy.
My chest heaves as I look down at him, at the halberd that he placed carefully on the ground beside him. I glance behind me toward the east—to the horizon where the sky is brightening with every passing second.
Spinning back to him, my voice is harsh with desperation. “Pick up your weapon.”
He shakes his head, a slow, determined movement, denying me the only thing I need from him.
“Pick up your weapon!”
My scream echoes around us, startling Christiana and Hagan, even the fae and humans who are still recovering in the distance. The hum of my magic courses through the mist and up into the air. A cloud of silver mold moths flutters, disturbed, out of the haze and flies east along the edge of the Gallows, coasting in the air above the dragon before disappearing toward the brightening horizon.
“Nathaniel!” My fist shoots out, thumping his cheek, but he takes the blow, leaning back on his hands instead of retaliating. “You fought for your throne. If yo
u kill me, you can be King of All. How can you throw that away?”
“The throne is safe. Christiana will be a good queen. Hagan will help her. They won’t make the mistakes of the past.”
“But you’ll die!”
He looks up at me, his gaze passing across my face. “I’d rather die than live a hundred years with an empty heart because I killed you.”
The light inside my chest burns, ripping me apart.
I shake my head no.
“You promised me!” I shout, landing a vicious blow against his shoulder, trying to provoke him, needing him to hit back. My fist crashes across his cheek again. “You promised to fight me!”
My blows rain down on his body and head, wild and desperate, but there’s only one thing I can do that might make him move against me.
I lurch for his weapon.
My left hand barely closes around the handle before Nathaniel’s fist whips out and grabs it, pulling the halberd to a halt midair as I try to lift it.
A wary look enters his eyes.
This weapon—the light—is important for the human’s future. He may be prepared to die, but Christiana will need this blade after he’s gone.
My lips twist. Cruel threats spill from my mouth. “I will take the light from you. I will break it. Rip off its blades. Destroy its magic. Burn and melt it. Unless you stop me.”
I wrench the blade upward while he grips it. At the same time, I reach for the liquid sword at my shoulder.
He leaps to his feet, agile and smooth despite how tired he must be.
I strike.
My sword cuts toward his chest. I’m ready to veer to the side if I have to, but his arms shoot up, wrenching the halberd into a defensive position. His weapon’s blade grates against my sword’s wickedly sharp edge, stopping my strike just in time. The blades spark against each other before I leap back into the only clear patch of ground behind me—away from the bodies.
I grip my sword, testing its balance as Nathaniel prowls toward me.
His voice is a low rumble, conveying the danger I want from him. “Don’t do this, Aura.”
I shake my head at him, slowly. “We were always headed here, Nathaniel. From the moment we met.”