Chapter 72 Nox
Nox
Mortep’s wail ripped through the night. I froze as Everett dropped him, then threw his own eyes back at him. Mortep shielded his face with his hands, blood seeping through the cracks of his fingers.
A dagger appeared in Everett’s hand. “This is for me,” he seethed, “and for her.” He raised the blade to Mortep’s chest.
A mass of fur, hard muscles, and sharp claws burst from the side. A great lion rammed into Everett, and he sailed through the air. The lion roared and shook his wild mane, spit flying from his maw.
He was enormous. Easily twice the size of any normal lion, with bronze fur that rippled in the wind and dark eyes that burned with both cunning and rage. Muscles coiled beneath its hide with every step as it stalked toward me.
Scarven.
At the sound of Mortep’s loud groan, I took my eyes off Scarven to catch the half Alchemist, half Illusionist groping aimlessly at his chest until he pulled out a small silver box.
I realized too late what he was doing.
With trembling fingers, Mortep placed something on his tongue and muttered a string of words. There was a flash of smoke, a tightening sensation stretching in the air, and then—he was gone.
“No!” Everett shouted, struggling to rise as he stared at the spot Mortep had disappeared from.
I didn’t care about the Alchemist. When the lion lunged for me, there was only one thing going through my head.
Devora.
I couldn’t hurt him. Anything that happened to him, happened to her.
Once again, my hands were tied behind my back. He was untouchable.
He soared through the air and slammed his paws into my chest, and we went crashing to the ground, a tangle of claws and fur. I shifted my wings and slammed the wingtips into the ground to stop our momentum, spraying dirt around our bodies as I caged him beneath me.
He struck first. He swung his paw at my face, but I blocked with my shifted hand, careful not to strike him. Sparks flew when his claw hit my steel talons.
Scarven snarled. Rearing his hind legs up, he shoved at my chest and threw me off him. The force made me yank my wings from the ground to steady myself.
Back on all fours, Scarven shook his mane again. This time when he charged me, his body shifted midair, bronze fur morphing into a trim black suit, dark hair with that streak of gray, and gleaming eyes that held my gaze.
“Something wrong, brother?” He sauntered forward, casually buttoning the cuff of his sleeve as if there wasn’t a battle raging around us.
“You’re a coward,” I spat. He was powerful, sure, but he’d never been a match for me. He knew it. It was why he hid behind others. First me, then Vera, now Devora.
He shrugged. “You call it cowardice; I call it practical. I haven’t made it this far by picking fights I couldn’t win.”
“Break the bond,” I demanded. “Whatever you did to Devora, break it and face me like a man.”
“Ah, you see, there’s just one slight problem.” He brandished a hand. “It looks as if the only Alchemist who could break the curse is nowhere to be found. How unfortunate.”
I closed my eyes. Milo told us only the original caster could undo a curse, unless they died. If only Everett had finished the job.
I quickly switched tactics. “You’re out of plays, Scarven. You’ve lost your Alchemist, and I’m done being your pet. There’s only one way this ends.”
He raised an eyebrow and looked around him.
My attention strayed to the weapons and magic flying, watching as Kieran battled a mutant levitating on a cloud of shadows, to Everett fending off both a Lightbender and a Shifter, to a group of our refugees slowly being surrounded by half a dozen mutants with dark, swollen veins.
All their faces bore the same expressions: exhaustion. Fear. Grim resignation. Even as they fought for their lives, for our cause, they were being overcome.
My heart sank. Just hold on a little longer, I wanted to plead. I have a plan.
“It doesn’t look like I’m the one who needs to worry, does it?” Scarven said. “I am not too proud to admit your little rendezvous at the Guardian Range set things back a bit, but it’s no matter. Tell me,” he took a step forward, a smirk lighting his features, “how is my dear Devora?”
My lips peeled back from my teeth as I let out a snarl. “Stay away from her.”
He moved closer, and my arms shook from the effort it took not to unleash my dragon on him.
He lowered his voice. “And what are you going to do about it?” Pushing up the sleeve of his shirt, he shifted the tip of his finger into a claw and pressed it to his arm.
“I can do anything I want to her, and there isn’t a single thing you can do to stop me. ”
His skin dented from the pressure until a bead of blood bloomed to the surface. My hand whipped out to grip his wrist, wrenching it away without breaking bone.
He smiled in triumph.
I released him. Hopelessness surged through me, cold and numb. It always ended up in the same place—with me back beneath his feet.
“You truly care for her, don’t you?” Scarven asked, that inquisitive, cunning gleam back in his eyes. Slipping a dagger from his pocket, he twirled it between his fingers. He tauntingly slid the edge along his own throat, down his chest and back up again. My muscles clenched with every motion.
“How far would you be willing to go for her?” he asked.
A million thoughts penetrated my mind. He and I have had this conversation before. How far would you be willing to go to save your sister?
Flashes of the people I’d hurt, the blood I’d shed, the lives I’d ruined came back to me in a rush. The myriad of things he would ask me to do. The paths he’d force me down to keep Devora unharmed.
Everyone was always in awe of the all-powerful dragon Shifter. The first in two centuries, the impossible miracle. But what they didn’t know was how utterly powerless I was. I never had a choice—not with my sister, and not with Devora. I loved her with my entire being.
And love made me a monster. It made me a weapon.
I hated myself before the words even left my mouth. “What do you want?”
“From you?” He hummed and leaned away. “Nothing, brother. You’ve outlived your usefulness. In fact, you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my flesh these last few months. I simply wanted to remind you of your place.”
I went on instant alert. What was he planning? Why go through all of this just to let me go?
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” He put the knife back and steepled his hands in front of his face.
“I’m going to kill every single one of your friends.
I’m going to make your precious empress watch as I drain her people of magic one by one until they have no choice but to bow at my feet.
” Every word was enunciated, each one lighting his eyes with glee.
“Magic is not a birthright, brother. It’s a privilege, and only those loyal to me will be able to wield it.
But do you want to know the best part of it all? ”
His smile widened as a wave of heat rushed over the space. The sound of powerful wings flapping behind me made my heart turn to stone.
“You won’t be alive to see any of it.”
I slowly turned to find bright orange, yellow, and red wings burning through the tree line and heading straight toward me.
My sister landed in a crouch among the dirt and leaves, fire licking from her sharp, brilliant wings and into the sky. She clutched a sword of lightning in one hand and shadows in the other. Her golden eyes blazed with power as she faced me.
She was alive.
And she was aiming straight for me.
“Vera, listen to me. I know you’re in there,” I said, raising both my hands in a sign of peace. I was acutely aware of the small bulge in my pocket where the blood bead Rose made rested, the one that could break Scarven’s compulsion on her. I just had to get close enough.
Vera tilted her head and swirled the lightning sword in one hand. “I don’t know you.” Her voice was hard, but it was still her. My sister. She was in there somewhere.
To my surprise, a figure stepped out of the battle beside me. Everett’s eyes were wide as he stretched out a hand, reaching for Vera.
“Songbird?” he whispered, his words choked. “Is—is that you?”
I blinked. “How do you know my sister?”
He looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “She’s your sister?” When I nodded, he dropped his arm.
“That’s my girl. My songbird.” His eyes were glued to Vera. “She’s the one I left behind.”
Without warning, my sister launched at us.