Chapter 67
Chapter
Sixty-Seven
I bolted to the door and threw it open.
Luther whipped to me, his eyes growing as he spotted the glowing mark at my throat and realized what it meant.
“Find Doriel,” I told him. “Warn them. Hurry. ”
“No—I’m not leaving you.”
“That’s an order!” I shouted.
His jaw ticked as he fought his instincts to stay at my side and protect me, but a moment later, he took off through the greenhouse.
“D, what’s going on?” Teller asked.
I spun to Perthe, who had been waiting beside Luther at the door. “Take my brother and find somewhere to hide. Someone’s coming—someone dangerous.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll keep him safe.”
“ Diem ,” Teller snapped. “Who’s coming?”
“My birth father.” Teller recoiled, and I threw him a stricken look. “There’s no time to explain. Stay with Perthe. And tell everyone you see to hide.” My focus shot to Perthe. “He’s coming to kill Descended. Don’t take any risks—for Teller or for yourself.”
He nodded sharply and saluted.
Whatever terror lay in my eyes, it scared off the last of Teller’s lingering resentment. I threw my arms around his neck, and he squeezed me tightly, gripping my back like he was afraid to let go.
“If anything happens to me,” I whispered, feeling his muscles tense beneath my hands, “follow the Ring Road to the Montios border. The Guardians are hiding in the trees. Tell them to take you to Mother.”
When I pulled back, the blood had drained from his face, though it was firm with Bellator resolve. “We’ll be fine. And so will you.”
We shared a final, loaded stare, then I ran out of the greenhouse. I burst outside and nearly buckled at the wall of power that crashed against my skin—almost as potent as it had been in the Forgotten Lands.
Ophiucae was close. Very close.
I bolted to the top of the nearest hill and peered out across the grasslands to see a group of armed men on horseback riding our way. Though there was no glowing man among them, my gut knew it wasn’t a coincidence.
I sprinted down the city streets, heart pounding, shouting warnings at every resident I passed. My voice grew more and more frantic as my efforts earned only confused stares.
Once I reached the inn where we’d tied up our horse, I used Ignios flame to burn it loose from its rope, then pulled myself into the saddle and prodded it into an urgent gallop toward the Ring Road.
I swore under my breath when I got there—a shimmering veil hung over each of the men. Wherever Ophiucae was hiding, he was using his magic to keep them safe.
I called on the stone magic of Montios, and the ground trembled as a thick wall of rock rose high to block the men’s path, stretching as far as my magic would reach. It wouldn’t stop them, but it would buy me precious time.
A sudden crackle ripped through the air as a bolt of lightning shot into the sky from near the library. With a tug on my reins, I raced back into town.
At the base of the library steps, Luther and Doriel were in heated debate while the Sophos Royal Guard began arriving from across the city.
“He’s coming,” I panted, dismounting and jogging to their side.
Doriel nodded somberly. “I can feel him. That much power...” They were forcing a brave face for their guards, but their eyes belied a hidden panic.
“The mortals working with him are just outside the city. He’s shielding them, so he must be nearby.”
Their eyes began to close. “I’ll find him through the Forging magic.”
“ No ,” I shouted quickly. “Don’t—when I tried that in Montios, he attacked me through it.”
Their brow slowly creased. “How did you access the Forging magic in Montios? ” Their eyes dropped to my neck. “And why do you bear his sigil?”
My hand flew to my throat, now exposed after my scarf had fallen in the greenhouse.
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit .
Doriel stormed toward me in a seething rage. “You’re with him, aren’t you? You brought him here. You’re trying to scare me so I take your deal.”
Luther moved to intervene, but I raised a hand to stop him. “I swear to you Doriel, I’m not. I want to stop him before he hurts anyone else. I’ll fight him here and now to prove it.”
They looked me over, their delicate features gnarling in distrust.
“Think the worst of me when the battle’s over,” I begged. “If we’re going to protect these people, we have to work together.”
The crowd fell silent, awaiting Doriel’s response. The sudden quiet revealed a slow, steady thump in the distance. Through the hazy canopy of grey winter clouds, a small black dot had begun to grow.
My eyes slid over Doriel’s shoulder to see the Sophos gryvern—perched firmly on the ground.
Ice shot through my veins.
“Tell me that’s your gryvern,” Doriel said, their voice unsteady.
I already knew it wasn’t. Sorae’s dark rage at being imprisoned was an ever-present weight on my soul through our bond.
“That doesn’t look like any gryvern I’ve ever seen,” Luther murmured.
The dot became a silhouette: A horned reptilian head. Sprawling, red-tipped wings. A hulking leonine body with fur so dark, it was nearly black. And on its back, a grey-eyed man whose skin gleamed like moonlight.
With a Crown in the shape of a ten-pointed star hovering over his head.
“Blessed Kindred,” Doriel breathed. “The lost realm. The stories are true.”
The approaching gryvern let out a piercing shriek. My Faunos magic tingled, sensing its violent intentions. I shot back a pulse of calm and a plea to the creature to turn away, but my efforts were futile. The beast was as full of vicious rage as its brutal master.
I grabbed Doriel’s arm. “Release Luther’s magic. We need all the power we can get to shield.”
They stiffened, looking between us. “This is part of your plan, isn’t it? I release him, then you both attack my city.”
“We don’t have time for this, Doriel. That gryvern is going to be here in seconds.”
“How am I supposed to trust you when—”
“ Release his magic ,” I snarled, the compulsion of Umbros thought magic rippling in my tone.
Doriel’s eyes glazed over. A moment later, Luther’s aura tumbled across my skin.
“Did you just...?” Doriel stammered, staggering backward. “How?”
My eyes locked with Luther, his abrupt nod confirming he understood what we had to do. We both turned to the sky and lifted our palms, and a film of glimmering shadow spilled across the city center.
“Don’t just stand there,” I yelled at Doriel.
They jolted out of their stunned stupor. “Guards,” they shouted. “Shields up!”
The gryvern arched its trajectory at the last second, shooting for the outskirts of the city. From the grasslands, the sound of falling rocks led to a rousing war cry and the patter of galloping horses.
I swore. “They broke my wall. The others will be here any minute.” I turned to Doriel. “If we can get Ophiucae far enough away, his shield might fall. Can you take your gryvern and lure him out of the city?”
“Where’s your gryvern?” they hissed.
“Chained up by my Regent because you refuse to coronate me,” I hissed back.
Their eyes narrowed. “You’re just trying to get me to leave my city to your mercy.”
I grabbed Doriel by their lapels, jerking them toward me. The Sophos guards lunged forward, and Luther slid in front of us with a warning growl at them to keep away.
“If you’re too scared to do it, let me take your gryvern, and you can stay here. If you don’t like that either, then give me your orders, and I’ll obey—but you have to do something . My brother is in this city, and if he dies, I’m warning you Doriel, that man up there will be the least of your problems.”
They shook beneath my hands, their voice falling to a hush. “I’m not afraid for myself. My people are academics, Diem. The worst crime my guards deal with are stolen books. They’re not prepared for this. Most of them don’t even have weapons. I ordered some from your realm last year when the attacks began, but every shipment has been disrupted by the rebels.”
I frowned. “Are there any army soldiers nearby we can call in for help?”
“They left to secure Umbros after their attack.”
A howl from Ophiucae’s gryvern warned of his approach—and this time, the gryvern didn’t cut away. It skimmed over the gleaming shield as he leaned low and let his hand trail over its edge. His skin pulsed with light, and I gasped as I felt the tug of my magic drawing out of me. His aura swelled with a massive injection of our collective energy, laughter echoing in his wake as his gryvern swooped up toward the clouds.
“He’s using our shield to get stronger,” Luther ground out. “We have to get him away from here.”
I released my grip on Doriel. “Listen to me. We are not letting your people die. They might not be ready, but I am. My Prince is. And you are—right?”
They swallowed, nodding. “Right.”
“You and I are Crowns of Emarion. We’re the most powerful Descended who roam these lands, and the Kindred have chosen us to protect these people.”
Doriel’s features hardened to steel. They tugged off their veil and the golden circlet, the sparkling Crown of Sophos glowing to life in its place.
They turned to their guards. “I’ll take him on with Vexes. The rest of you, protect the city—and obey the Lumnos Queen’s command.” They shot me a dark stare. “I’m trusting you, Diem. If you betray me, you will pay dearly.”
With a deep breath, they ran to their gryvern and hurriedly mounted. “Fly, Vexes,” Doriel ordered, and the gryvern launched into the air.
The clatter of hoofbeats sounded from the city as the mounted rebels galloped down the main road. My insides twisted at the sight of glittering black blades in too many of their hands.
I thrust out my palms and grunted as my magic strained to reach them. Throw them , I begged the horses. Trample them. Drag them from the city.
The streets erupted into chaos as the beasts began to buck. Men went flying through glass windows and into stone walls, others tangling in their reins, fighting to stay mounted.
“Was that... Faunos magic?” a guard asked.
I winced at my slip. “Focus. We need to find a way to stall for time.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” someone shouted. “All most of us have is our magic. They have godstone. If we can’t get through their shields, they can strike us, but we can’t strike them.”
I stole a glance at Luther, his expression grim. The fact that neither of us was demanding the other get to safety showed what we both knew—we were this realm’s best, and maybe only, hope.
“They use godstone weapons for testing in the laboratories,” Stuart called out, emerging from the crowd. “There’s some in the archives, too. They’re locked away, but I have access.”
“Stuart, it’s not safe for a mortal,” I warned him. “You need to take shelter.”
He shook his head. “This is my home. If it’s in danger, I want to help protect it.”
“The godstone blades in the archives belonged to the Kindred,” a guard protested. “We can’t use them. They’re pieces of history.”
“We will be too, if we can’t fight back.” I pointed at a clump of guards. “You three—go with Stuart. Get anything useful you can find.”
Stuart beamed proudly and took off running, the guards following behind.
I turned to the group. “Those of you who have weapons, you’re with me. The rest of you, get everyone inside and barricade the doors.”
The guards split off, a painfully small cadre remaining behind to fight. With quivering hands and green-faced stares, they fell into an arc behind Luther as we marched into the heart of the city.
I’d never felt closer to my father than I did in this moment. He’d led countless battalions into clashes with odds more dismal than these. It had fallen to him, as it now did to me, to find the words that would spark a fire to fuel their will to fight.
And if I chose the wrong ones, they might be the last words these guards ever heard.
“Be smart,” I yelled out, recalling my father’s lessons. “Remember, the weapon in your head is more important than the weapon in your hands. Outwit them, outfight them, outrun them—but above all, outlive them.” I glared over my shoulder. “And stay the hell away from those black blades.”
A chorus of grunts and thumping fists rose up in answer.
I looked at Luther. “Got it, Prince?”
His eyes cut to me, clouded with shadows, his thoughts already deep in the throes of war.
It was its own kind of weapon, that striking face of his, all pointed edges and hard, unyielding steel. He was glittering poison in a silken pouch—exquisite to behold, but lethal to endure. There was no sign of my sweet would-be goatherd who kissed my forehead and held me in the dark. This was the vicious beast who would kill for me.
Die for me.
“Understand?” I snapped again.
“Yes, my Queen.” He glared at me. “Do you? ”
I turned my focus to the street ahead, where the mortal attackers had abandoned their attempts to tame their horses and were prowling toward us in a wide, menacing line.
“Today is not our day to die, my Prince.” I pulled my blade and pointed its tip at the one-armed man at the center. “I can’t say the same for him.”
“Vance is mine,” Luther growled.
“Not if I get to him first.”
“Is that a challenge? ” His eyes gleamed with the same competitive hunger I’d seen in him that night in the Forgotten Lands forest. Though we both now craved a different kind of flesh, it set my heart pounding to the same exhilarating tune.
The sound of laughter hooked my gaze to the left. A group of oblivious teenagers had turned the corner, dumping them smack in the center of the melee. They froze, eyes going wide.
“Get them,” Vance barked at his men. “Kill every Descended you see!”
Both sides launched into movement. I sent a burst of light pummeling into the mortals, then watched in horror as my magic ricocheted harmlessly away. I’d never faced a shield I couldn’t easily pierce through—but I’d never faced a Descended like Ophiucae.
Though the mortals’ shield held, the sheer power of my blast pushed them backward, buying us crucial time. Two Sophos guards cut off to usher the teens back to safety, and I raised a wall of shadow to ward off any pursuit.
My pent-up breath stuck in my throat at the sight of more locals spilling out of buildings to investigate the noise. On a normal day, this realm rewarded curiosity. Today, it might get them all killed.
“Run!” I shouted.
“Kill them!” Vance commanded.
As if I’d taken a club to a hornets’ nest, the mortal invaders scattered with furious intent, some taking us on directly while others disappeared into buildings or down connecting roads. My chest swelled with pride as the Sophos guards set aside their fear and stormed boldly into the fight.
I lost sight of Vance as two mortals barreled down on me. With a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, I called on my Arboros magic. Roots snarled through cracks in the paved road and wound in a tangled web at their feet, sending them stumbling to their knees. I let the knotty cords grow deeper and taller into the street, forcing the mortals to turn their blades downward to hack their way out.
My godhood paced hungrily inside me, awoke by the thrill of the battle.
Fight , its voice urged me on.
I happily obliged, calling on my magic to put more obstacles in their way. A tide of water to wash them back, a carpet of ice to send them sliding, a gauntlet of stone to make them climb.
It worked, but only so well. Each time, a few more escaped my reach, and as the Sophos guards advanced, it became impossible to avoid striking them, too.
Worse, some had turned their interest on me and the magic in the street none of us were supposed to have. I did my best to mask my attacks with flashes of light or shadowy shrouds, but in Sophos, even their soldiers were uncannily shrewd.
Up in the sky, Doriel was having little success. Vexes, the Sophos gryvern, was plump and petite, accustomed to a life of spoiled leisure. The fright quivering down its spine practically vibrated in the air. Not just the terror of battle—an old fear, a remembered fear, of a history from long ago.
My hands rose high as I channeled the Faunos magic and poured a pulse of bravery into its spirit.
“Diem, duck! ” Luther yelled from behind me.
I obeyed without hesitation as a glittering midnight blade went slicing through the air where my throat had just been.
I fell back, heart hammering, and gawped at the mortal who’d been one second away from ending my life. He glared and raised his sword for another blow.
“Leave her,” another man called out. “Look at her neck. She’s been marked.”
His hands flopped petulantly to his sides. “She’s fighting for them . Why should we spare her?”
“We can’t afford to lose his help. There’s plenty more, find a different one to kill.”
The mortal skulked off, mumbling a string of curses beneath his breath. As he turned, I spied a ten-pointed star glimmering under the shaggy hair at his nape.
All of them, I realized in stunned surprise—every single mortal bore the same glowing symbol Ophiucae had burned into my flesh.
He’d marked me.
He’d protected me.
Luther ran to my side and hauled me back to my feet. “Are you alright?”
My stiff, hurried nod was a glaring lie, and Luther’s frown looked like he knew it.
“If Doriel doesn’t make some progress soon...”
“They will,” I said. “Give them a chance.”
He let out a reluctant grunt, then both our heads snapped at the clink of breaking glass. Nearby, men were attempting to force their way in through the windows of a store packed with cowering faces.
We both jumped forward to stop them, but Luther outpaced me as my foot snagged and I lurched to my knees.
I looked back—and my heart stopped. Among the debris, a Sophos guard lay sprawled and bleeding on the ground. Red liquid gurgled from his lips, his pale pink eyes pleading for help. His shirt had been shredded down the center, where a ten-pointed star had been carved around a gory, jagged wound.
On reflex, I unloaded my healing magic into his skin. Blissfully, miraculously, there was no trace of godstone toxin in his blood. The guard breathed out a moan as his wound stitched closed and the star vanished from his chest.
“You... you healed me,” he rasped.
I didn’t answer. I flung a shot of wind to push back a mortal stalking toward us, then helped the guard sit up. “I’ll help you find a place to hide.”
“I can keep fighting,” he insisted. He shoved my hand away and fumbled weakly for his weapon.
I hesitated with a grimace. The healer in me knew he should rest, but the hard truth was we needed every person we could get. I reached out a hand. “Come on, then. Let’s fight.”
I pretended not to notice his wobbly stance as I gazed out and spotted bodies littering the ground.
“Cover my back,” I ordered.
Together, we darted through the street, crouching beside each fallen guard. I no longer bothered to conceal the truth of my magic as it flew from my palms in all directions, healing with one hand and hurling defensive attacks with the other. My heart stuttered as I found guards with godstone poison already taken root, then shattered completely with others for whom my help had come too late.
The brawl fell still at a frantic howl that dragged our focus to the sky, where Doriel had been knocked from Vexes’s back and was plummeting toward the ground. Even with a pillow of wind I conjured to slow their fall, they were dropping faster than their gryvern could reach them—and faster than they could survive. All we could do was watch in horror as Doriel soared toward certain death.
A black and red blur sliced across the skyline.
My heart leapt as Doriel disappeared—then it turned to ice at their ear-splitting scream. They were caged withed in the talon of Ophiucae’s gryvern, the creature’s sharpened claw piercing through their gut.
“Diem!” Stuart’s distant voice called out. “I’ve got the weap—”
He skidded to a stop at the sight of his Crown dangling, bleeding and helpless. “ Doriel ,” he choked.
“Doriel will be fine,” I lied, sprinting toward him. “What did you find?”
His trembling hands offered up a gilded, ancient-looking scabbard, while the guards with him held an armful of sheathed blades, a spear, and a quiver of black-tipped arrows.
I cringed—it wasn’t enough to arm even half of our group.
“Luther?” I shouted, my heart hesitating to beat until his voice answered back. I spotted him nearby, crafting a thick, shadowy cloud around a horde of mortal men. They swung their blades in aimless arcs, slicing through each other’s shields and unwittingly wounding their own as they bungled blindly in the dark.
I grabbed the scabbard, jerking as a strange pulse of energy shot through me the moment it touched my skin. I waved it at Luther. “Here, take this.”
He shook his head. “You keep it. Give the rest to the guards.”
I scowled. “ Luther .”
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Have faith, my Queen. I’ve got my eyes on a different blade.”
He set off down the road, where a preening Vance was strolling through the bedlam. In his hand, a familiar bejeweled handle sparkled in the light, a jarring flash of beauty among the violence and blood.
The Sword of Corbois.
I didn’t even like the damn thing, but the sight of it in Vance’s grip sent an inferno raging through my veins. That blade belonged to Luther—and Luther belonged to me.
“You three,” I barked at Stuart’s guards, “get these weapons to whoever needs them. Stuart, find me two Descended, one from Meros and one from Faunos. Brave ones.” I kept the scabbard and handed my smaller blade to him. “I don’t think they’ll hurt you, but keep your distance.”
His brow wrinkled with questions that, wisely, he didn’t stop to ask. He nodded and set off running.
“ Dragonfyre ,” a guard screamed. “Take cover!”
Thick heat washed over me. Ophiucae and his gryvern tore in a low arc down the city center, Doriel still trapped in the creature’s grasp—a cruel torture to make them watch their city burn. Dragonfyre flooded from the beast’s open jaws, a fiery sea devouring the street in its blistering deluge.
My instincts forced my hand, casting a blanket of ice over every living being I could see. There was no time to separate friend from foe—and even if I could, I wasn’t confident Ophiucae wouldn’t broil his own men alive in order to win.
His grey eyes locked with mine. His gryvern hurtled nearer, and I began to raise my shield.
Fight , my godhood hissed.
Again, the scabbard tingled against my palm. Its strange, buzzing energy seemed almost like a godhood of its own, its voice whispering of a storied fate trapped within its gilded embrace.
A thought tickled the back of my mind.
An instinct.
A hunch .
Ophiucae’s lips curled into a serpentine smile, and the mark at my throat began to throb. His gryvern was nearly on me now, sweat beading on my skin from the heat of its flames.
I raised my chin and slid the godstone sword free of its scabbard. The murmurs of its blade grew louder, the language foreign but the message clear:
Fight .
Every rational thought screamed at me to run.
But my godhood was calm. And so was I.
Without breaking Ophiucae’s smoky gaze, I dropped my foot back and lifted my sword. My hair fluttered in the draft from his gryvern’s wings, its inferno caressing me with a turbulent, boiling wind.
Luther yelled my name as the fire consumed me. Pale flames licked my skin, tickled my neck. They burned— gods , did they burn, the bone-deep intensity nearly bringing me to my knees.
And yet my body remained untouched.
The gryvern’s other talon unfurled, preparing to pluck me into its grasp.
Fight .
With a cry of defiance, I punched the sword into the sky. As the gryvern soared over my head, the glittering black point pierced the soft flesh of its belly and carved a deep ravine into its ribs.
The beast shrieked and abruptly jerked skyward. Blood from its wound drizzled down, painting me in red. Its talons jerked open, and Doriel fell to the ground with a sickening thump.
I ran to their side and pushed out healing magic, grimacing at the mangled mess of bone chips and shredded organs my magic surged to repair. Relief washed over me as their eyes flew open with a gasp.
“I... I saw you from the air,” they sputtered. “The ice. The roots. My... my wound .”
I dipped my chin in a single nod to confirm the question behind their terrified stare.
“Does that mean he can do it all, too?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “If he can, I haven’t seen him use it.”
Doriel’s heart looked broken as they gazed over my shoulder. “My city—he’s destroying my city.”
Though the dragonfyre had done little to the glass and metal structures dominating the streets, the old mortal buildings were now engulfed in flames. I hurled water magic toward them—and swore as it splashed uselessly to the ground, the buildings too far from my reach.
“Doriel,” I said, “find Stuart—he’ll have two Descended with him. Take them with you and get back on your gryvern.”
“He’ll kill us,” they said, looking hopeless. “Vexes is too slow.”
“The Faunos Descended can speak to gryverns. They can’t make the beast disobey him, but if they’re smart, they can find ways to interfere. And the Meros Descended can use the wind to slow him down and speed you up.”
The cogs in their clever mind wheeled into motion. “Yes—yes, perhaps that could work.” They scrambled to their feet, whispering beneath their breath. A high-pitched trill answered from the sky.
I glanced down the street in search of Luther. Everywhere I looked, mortals and Descended were locked in combat—and not just the Sophos guards. Foreign Descended had been watching the battle unfold from their hiding spots, and several had bravely joined the fray. They had learned from my methods, working in tandem to build obstacles of vines, rock, and ice.
A part of me warmed at seeing these people put aside the differences of their realms to fight as one—and another chilled, knowing that soon, I might be the enemy they united to defeat.
“Luther?” I called out.
My insides turned cold as my search dropped to the bodies littering the ground.
“ Luther? ” I yelled again.
No answer came.
My faith did not come easily. I didn’t put my trust in gods or Kindred, nor stars nor moon nor sun. Even the Everflame itself could not claim me as its disciple.
But Luther Corbois had asked me to have faith in him .
And though it ripped me apart to turn away without knowing he was safe, if there was one force in all the world I could believe in, it was my Prince.
My breath came shallow and unsteady as I grudgingly raged down the street toward the mortal buildings, slashing at insurgents along the way.
Though I aimed for sword hands and ankles to fell the mortals without taking their lives, I sensed the numbness I’d felt in Fortos regaining ground. Every splatter of warm blood left me feeling colder, emptier, more unmoved. The slice of blade through flesh felt rote, almost clinical. It felt like my humanity was fighting to keep its claim on my soul—and slowly losing. My love for Luther was the one light that refused to dim, and though it filled me with terror to think of him while he was missing, I clung to it with all my might.
Finally, I came within reach of the burning monuments. My palm curled, and the clouds darkened. With a rumble of thunder, they unleashed a torrent of heavy rain, the winds of Meros carrying the water where it was needed most. I allowed myself a slow sigh as the flames died away, the mortal buildings damaged but otherwise safe.
The earth quaked beneath me.
A blur of black, red, and silver slammed into me and knocked me to the ground, the godstone sword flying out of my reach. Before I could scream, a sharp talon curled tightly around my throat.
“When I told you to come find me, daughter, this was not what I had in mind.”