CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN #4
Obel tried to fight at her side, but he was now the focus of Blount’s attacks. Shadow after shadow pummeled the duke. He threw his hands up to block the attacks. But one slipped past his defenses, striking him like a whip. He shuddered against the pain.
“Eve.” Rafferty popped up beside Evylin, a singular knife in his hand. The blade was bloody, and his face was splattered with gore. Yet, he wore a bright smile.
Evylin and he ducked behind the throne as Blount’s shadows lashed out at them. “I’m a little busy, Raff,” she said. “Did you need something?”
“It’s more that you need something,” Rafferty said with a wily grin.
Blount’s Mages appeared through the shadows.
Evylin and Rafferty jumped up, dodging the sudden fresh onslaught of magic.
She grimaced as a bolt of Day slammed into her shoulder.
She twisted, flicking her dagger toward the Mage.
It landed in the precise center of his throat.
Blood spurted from the wound as Evylin called the blade back.
“Here,” Rafferty said, pulling a hand from his pocket. He tossed a small, glittering object toward Evylin.
The gold pendant hit Evylin’s hand. Instantly, it transformed.
The onyx blade of the Space sword rippled with power, filling Evylin with a renewed sense of energy.
A surge of magic swept through her, and Deckard’s magic swelled in response across the throne room.
She didn’t have long to appreciate it as the Mages continued their attacks.
With Rafferty at her side, Evylin dashed forward through the violet and amethyst shadows around them.
They slashed and sliced. At close range, the Mages weren’t nearly as dangerous.
They struggled to create bursts of magic large enough to inflict true damage.
Evylin and Rafferty dispatched them easily, their months of teamwork turning them into a frightful force.
“How did you get this?” Evylin asked, spinning away from a crackling flame.
“Your noble husband isn’t quite as boring as he seems.” Rafferty dropped to a crouch, hamstringing one of the Mages before he was even aware of his presence. “He teleported the bloody thing right into my pocket when we entered the throne room. A contingency plan, he called it.”
Evylin slashed with the glittering sword. “Remind me to kiss him later.”
“It’s me who deserves your thanks.”
“Then remind me to kiss you later too.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
As the last Mage crumpled, Evylin turned to find Ilain fighting at Obel’s side.
But Blount was still too strong, the Relics granting him vast wells of power.
The pendants glowed around his neck. Flashes of red, yellow, blue, purple, gray, white, and green filled the shadows around him like colorful lightning strikes.
His attacks were so fierce that all Ilain and Obel could do was defend themselves.
Evylin raced forward, but she wasn’t fast enough.
In one coiling purple shadow, Blount’s magic slammed into Obel and Ilain with more power than Evylin had ever seen.
Its force was like the bomb at Renaul’s estate, rocking the very ground under her feet.
The Alliance Mages tumbled away through the air.
Obel crashed into the throne, landing against the base.
He didn’t move, either unconscious or . . .
Ilain flew clear off the dais, crashing hard against the tile floor.
Evylin heard a sickening crack as her head slammed on the marble.
Vayden and Ethenn called out, even as they continued to fight.
With the Waulden soldiers and Mages surrounding the troop, only Evylin and Rafferty were near enough to check on the woman.
Evylin left the task to him.
Charging up the steps, Evylin brandished the Space sword. Blount sent a gust of wind laced with the shadow of Night. Pointlessly, Evylin slashed the sword out. But to her surprise, the blade caught the magic, absorbing it.
Blount took a step back in surprise. “You little liar,” he seethed. “You do have it.”
Feeling the heat of Deckard’s magic creeping up her arms, Evylin’s vision darkened once more. “I lied about a lot of things.” A tingle worked across her skin as Space magic coiled around her. “A vice I picked up from my husband.”
Blount gaped at her, truly shocked. “He’s a bloody Space Mage?”
“It surprised me too.”
The Night Mage’s blue eyes flared violently. “And you’re Bonded?”
“We are.”
A cruel smile came to his lips. “That means I only have to kill one of you.”
“You can try,” Evylin challenged, then rushed him.
Blount sent out torrents of magic, each one with increasing power. If he wasn’t careful, he would burn up all his energy and pass out. Though Ilain had noted Blount’s impressive skill in the past. Evylin wondered if they had the power to overcome him at all.
The crystalline shards around Evylin deflected Blount’s strikes, but she felt each blow zapping more energy from her limbs. She couldn’t sustain her defense forever. An aggressive approach might be the only way to defeat the Mage.
Striking out, Evylin took the offensive.
She stepped boldly toward him, and Blount had to step away from the range of her sword, throwing more shadows and flares, flames, and waves.
She pressed in close to crowd his defenses.
He raised a hand as she slashed, the blade slicing open the palm of his hand.
But he flexed his fingers past the pain, and the diamond pendant flared with a white glow against his chest.
Within an instant, Evylin was frozen. Her muscles were incapacitated, locked in Time. No matter how hard she tried, her body was wholly halted.
His bleeding hand shook, betraying his early signs of fatigue, and Blount glared at her. He reached out, curling his fingers around the hilt of the Space sword, wetting her fingers with his blood. “I’ll take that,” he said, ice-blue eyes piercing her with their rage.