Chapter 34 Turning Point
Behind Sasha, two other figures lurked in the doorway to Kriqir’s secret lair. The pair of violet eyes and the glint of silvery dragon scales were enough for Em to recognize Roden and Gair.
“How the fuck…” she strained every muscle in her neck and shoulders to lean as far away from the tip of Sasha’s knife as possible. Her pulse rose to her throat, tempting the sharp prick stinging at her skin.
Kriqir’s cackle cut her off. Reality snapped into place, and Em processed the trap she’d walked right into. Of course, the necromancer wouldn’t risk another villain usurping his position of antagonist in this prophecy. Or allow the possibility of Em killing him with the dragon relic.
He’d turned her in. To her own party.
“What the hell?” Em shot a glare his way.
Kriqir dipped into a dramatic, sweeping bow. “I’d be a fool to allow a dangerous Great Author such as yourself roam about Novella freely.”
“Since when did you cooperate with a villain?” Em demanded toward her love interests hovering in Sasha’s shadow.
“Apparently, since I declared one as the Almighty Queen of Stars, Princess of the White Rose Valley, and Heir to the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower,” Roden growled, holding out Destiny’s Song by his side.
Em frantically tried to calculate an escape. Sasha was quick, Kriqir had Inky on his workbench just an arm’s reach away from himself, and both Gair and Roden blocked her singular exit. Her heart hammered against her rib cage as the air became thin.
She was cornered.
“What are you going to do?” she fought back the strain in her voice. The more she spoke, the more time she had to think. “Send me back to fucking rehab?”
“Hand over the dragon relic, princess,” Roden growled. “And let me complete the prophecy before you let Kriqir invade what little of Novella you haven’t cursed yet.”
“Touch me, princeling, and I’ll release my entire hoard of orcs on your pitiful party,” Kriqir hissed.
Em’s breath caught. That was it. She just needed to get them fighting against each other, take their focus off her, and she could make the slip.
Sasha’s amber eyes glistened with fury, her arched eyebrows knitting together along the creases of her forehead. The dryad’s heavy breathing rose and fell along her chest, warning Em that the other girl was her riskiest opponent.
Sasha was clearly here for revenge. For the kill.
How much plot armor does a Great Author get? Em swallowed the thick bile rising in her mouth. Her throat bobbed against the sharp knife. It stung, and she flinched.
“You killed me.” Sasha bared her teeth.
“You stole my pen,” Em retorted. Still, the haunting image of her friend’s crumpled, bloodied corpse—the wide-eyed panic stretching across Sasha’s expression after the squishy feeling of stabbing her—flowed through Em’s memory. The hollow thump of her body dropping. The life draining from her eyes.
“It was ruining you, sweetheart.” The dryad’s nostrils flared. “You bypassed any of my ethical choices or contracted character for hire terms and conditions a while ago. Let alone the fact that you were becoming a direct threat to the White Rose valley. You’re just too selfish to see that.”
“C’mon, Em,” Gair pleaded. “Make this right.”
The dragon relic warmed from her pocket against her hip. She knew they wanted her to throw it at Kriqir and complete her prophecy then and there. But what kind of fun was there in that?
“If you won’t, I will,” Roden growled, speculating on her thoughts.
“Fine.” Em lowered her hand toward her pocket, the other raised in innocence.
“You touch that dragon stone, I’ll complete my ward on the pen,” Kriqir shouted from behind her, sending her pulse into a storm. “And you do not want to know what ways I plan to abuse my power over Novella. Or your pitiful, foolish lives.”
Shit. Em cringed.
Of course, the necromancer would trick her into giving him the pen so he could use it for his own gain. It was a stereotypical, predictable mistake she should’ve seen a mile away. He had sniffed out her desperation and twisted it against her.
Kriqir’s manicured fingers lazily circled along his workbench, walking their way towards Inky’s broken halves.
His wry eyebrows flattened together along the rim of his mask.
An amused smirk curled back his lips to reveal his sharp teeth.
The closer he got to touching Inky, the fiercer Em’s panic clawed at her.
“Wouldn’t it be such a shame,” Kriqir crooned on, “if an overlord such as myself developed the power to delete the only relic in all of Novella that could kill him?”
“Sasha, you can’t let him…” she tried.
“Shut up, sweetheart.” Sasha didn’t change her blade’s aim from Em’s throat. “I don’t give one rip about that darn pen.”
“It controls all of Novella,” Em begged, trying to channel her pity into Gair or Roden’s narrowed gazes. They simply averted their eyes. Clearly, they were more determined to ruin her life than save their world.
A singular, golden spark wavered into view. Inside, past her tightening anxieties, the warm, gentle tug pulled her toward her origins again. Toward Stephanie.
Em struggled to find an answer in the necromancer’s lair, but Kriqir was already picking up Inky’s broken remains, and Sasha’s biceps were twitching for the kill. She didn’t have much of a choice. Either this story would finally kill her, or her plot armor would have to see her through.
With a scream, Em ducked under Sasha’s blade and kicked at the other girl’s legs. Everything blurred as she stumbled away from the dryad’s swinging knife, then ducked under Gair’s whizzing arrow as she reeled on Kriqir.
The necromancer’s fingers were like ice as she yanked to free Inky from him. He shouted and shoved away, but Em clung onto the broken pen for dear life. Her ankles twisted out from under her. She staggered to keep her balance as she and Kriqir fought to win the pen.
Other hands grabbed at her. Roden and Gair yelled as they tried to tug her away from Kriqir.
Em dug her fingernails into the necromancer’s hands. Beads of fresh blood sprouted beneath her grip. Kriqir howled in fury and let go. She stumbled back from him, momentum almost dragging her onto the floor.
“Stop her!” Sasha shrieked.
Relief flooded through Em at Inky’s touch.
She shoved both halves of the pen down the front of her dress, then fought to free herself from the others’ grips.
Em screamed over her companions’ complaints and demands as they tried to reason with her.
She twisted and shoved, but both guys were stronger as they closed in.
Something hard slammed into her hips.
The dragon relic!
She yanked the green dragon relic from her pocket, elbowing at Gair’s jaw, and swung her knee to swipe toward Roden’s calves. Both jumped away, eyes widening at the sight of the stone. All focus shifted from her onto the prophetic relic.
“Brolzross’ relic!” the room exclaimed in unison.
“Go fetch!” Em chucked the stone across the lair as hard as she could.
Kriqir let out a gasp, scrambling away as it soared over his head.
Sasha leapt clear over the workbench after the stone, blowing past the ducking necromancer. In a flash, everyone scrambled after the dragon relic. They became a tangle of limbs and shouting as they tried to steal it first.
Except for Em. She charged out of the lair as fast as her legs allowed.
Shouts echoed behind her as she ran. Blisters dug into her ankles; her feet were exhausted from running around all day.
Em pressed her hands to her chest, holding Inky as close as possible to assure herself that the pen was back in her possession.
Down the staircase she escaped, momentum carrying her forward.
Eventually, after a frenzied whirlwind, her heels found flat ground.
Tearing through the menacing tower, Em fled.
She shoved through the front doors and out into the frigid, pelting rain.
Fresh air filled her lungs, and thunder rolled to greet her as droplets bit at her skin.
Twigs snapped underfoot as she wove between trees in the dark forest. The naked branches loomed over her, providing some relief from the downpour.
Em ran until she couldn’t see the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower anymore over her shoulders. She didn’t even care where she was going. She just needed to get away. From her companions. From Kriqir. From the disappointing creased expression of Faylorn’s ghost.
From the whole fucking story.
Em paused for a second. She leaned against a gnarled tree, gasping past her burning lungs, wiping rain from her forehead and salty tears from her cheeks. Everything ached. Her limbs throbbed with exhaustion, and there might as well have been sand in her eyes with how fuzzy reality had become.
But she didn’t have time to rest.
Pulling out her journal, Em completed her escape. She wrote the dragon relic back into her possession before Roden got the chance to kill Kriqir with it. A sigh escaped her as the weight of the stone returned to her pocket, bumping against her hip.
Past her trembling, Em sucked in a deep breath.
That golden thread tugged at her soul again.
It wove through the hollowness and bitterness of betrayal wedged in her chest, sending a shiver along her spine.
Deep inside, her instinct as Main Character pulled and called her to return to her Great Author.
She fought against it. Tried to come up with any other place to go to find help. Maybe she could find Polo and convert her back to his team. Or there was some magical chance she could recruit more Secondary Characters, with more experience than the interns from Larian had.
Em examined the snapped halves of Inky’s corpse.
The once-glittery feather pen had all but withered in the soaking rain, the shaft splintered from the chaotic day.
If only Sasha hadn’t killed the pen during her most desperate time of need.
How would she be able to keep the World Building together without Inky’s guidance?
The slightest rumble quaked along the forest, sending dried leaves rustling. Deep inside, the thread tying her to Stephanie yanked again, beckoning.
Fuck it.
Em teleported herself to the Veil of Maas.