Chapter 55
Wilder
Malachi has my sister at the edge of the courtyard, slowly inching closer to the Arch.
Selia’s gaze cuts to where the vines meet the dirt, and I sense their plan to shatter the base.
I’m still shocked it’s holding—that it worked at all with the instability in the Ley Court.
Or that there was time to secure a stronghold on the other end.
Thankfully, my court was ready when Atlas went back to Vaelier a final time last night to prepare them.
He’s been slipping in and out of the palace for weeks now, using an Arch outside Ruse Village that was still mostly stable.
His ability to burn memories and alter thoughts has helped him go unnoticed.
Now, as the ground shakes, I wonder if any Arch will be stable when this battle is done.
Rior grunts, slamming his fists into the ground to send a shockwave at the guards coming for us. The wave is a fraction of what he’s capable of inflicting.
“There’s something tempering my magic,” he huffs out.
Atlas waves a hand and burns the eyes straight from the remaining heads, while Perame takes out three that snuck up on us from behind with her daggers.
My focus stays on Malachi, twisting the orb between his fingers.
There’s something otherworldly about it. From another place or time. I’d never seen it before he started wearing it, but it pulls my magic. It calls me to it.
“There it is again. That block… what is it?” Rior flexes his fist, frustrated.
“Malachi has barriers all around the palace. They temper and twist your magic,” I tell him.
It’s been a pain these past few weeks as I’ve tried to prepare for this moment.
“You’ve got to appreciate him putting up a good fight.” Rior shakes his head, moving for his sword when something blocks his next attack.
Except Malachi isn’t putting up a fight at all. He’s a puppet master, throwing his guard at us and watching us buckle.
“No!” Elorie screams, and it steals my attention.
I turn to her but hit a wall.
No—not a wall.
The Well.
Malachi has split a river down the middle of the court, and what runs within it is as dark as the shadows in the forest back home. Just as deadly.
Atlas throws an arm across my chest, stopping me. “You can’t cross it.”
He’s right, I’ll have to find a way around. I look up and see Callum has Hazel by the throat. To touch her is to accept the kiss of death, and yet, it does nothing to him. It shouldn’t be possible.
I don’t have time to think about it. His action saved Elorie. She’s okay.
Rior glares at me, probably annoyed I’m distracted. A century hasn’t made him any less pragmatic. At least it helps us win our battles.
I’ll get around the split to the Well later. Right now, I need to get Selia through the Arch. She can fight me. Hate me. So long as I pull her out of the influence of Malachi, she can battle me all she wants.
The river of the Well slices the courtyard in half, cutting off most of the Guard. I send a final glance to Callum, not sure if he’ll let me in, but sending a message to protect Elorie with all he has when I can’t. He nods once through the haze of burning magic, and I turn to my sister.
Storms dance in her eyes. Crackles of gold web like small venomous lightning bolts, eating up the darkness. Her fingers weave through it as rain falls overhead. She’s burrowing into her magic, reaching for enough to kill us all.
Or, at least, most of us. Her magic can’t turn me to ash, but it can drown and electrocute most of the weaker Fae in the courtyard.
“She got stronger.” Perame pauses at my side, twisting her daggers in her hands. “I heard—”
“Now isn’t the time for rumors. We’re getting her back.”
I already know what they heard—we all did. Even the guards in the prison whispered about her rain of lightning. The storm that decimated an entire army from Vaelier and turned them to ash.
She’s hated back home for what she’s done, but she’s my blood. I owe this to her.
“Finally, just the two of us.” Malachi grins from beside her.
“Having trouble counting?” Atlas smirks, and Malachi’s gaze snaps to him.
A thin yellow light streams through the space, weaving in and out of the chaos and latching around Atlas’s throat.
He grabs it, while Perame attempts to slice it with a dagger as Atlas chokes. Finally, his fingers manage to sear it through.
Atlas throws out a shockwave of flames that stops right at Malachi’s feet, and he laughs. The orb around his neck glows as Atlas’s magic drifts upward. It’s like the orb is drinking it down.
“You can’t touch me.” Malachi’s head tilts.
I spin my sword around in my hand. “Maybe not with magic. But you can’t outrun the point of the blade.”
“You’d know something about that, wouldn’t you?” Malachi’s blue eyes have turned the color of a brewing ocean. “It’s disappointing, really. The great King Riven having a weakness when we used to be so evenly matched.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. We were never evenly matched. I seem to remember an entire army having to take me down.”
“How does it feel knowing your mother was the one who led you into that trap?” He’s baiting me.
My fists clench around my sword, and I swallow my anger. “My queen did what was necessary to ensure the survival of our kingdom.”
And she led me to Elorie. Whether I agree with my mother’s decisions or not, there is no lifetime—no matter how long—where I’d want to go back to a time before I met her.
“Your kingdom is doomed either way. Isn’t that right, my little storm cloud?” Malachi wraps an arm around my sister’s waist and pulls her tight to his side.
She grins; her eyes set on me.
“He’s manipulating you, Selia. He has been since that first visit. You know how light messes with your mind.”
Selia’s gaze hardens. “Yes, Wilder. You know how well I understand the effects of light wielding, don’t you? And yet, you let it happen.”
The man my mother handed Selia to centuries ago was a light wielder.
He altered her thoughts to make her do terrible things with him and his men.
At times, he’d use it to soothe her into compliance.
But at other times, I heard he would use it to instill fear in her.
He tortured my sister physically. Mentally.
My stomach lurches simply thinking about it.
“I was training in Andare. Our queen—”
“Used us!” She cuts me off. “She wasn’t a queen; she was a coward, using us like shields to protect herself. What she let happen will never be okay. But I have Malachi now. And I promise you, this isn’t manipulation.”
Her fingertips crackle. Thick fog settles overhead. The wind tastes like rain and lightning. But I keep my powers at bay, holding the aether back when it’s all around, begging me to grab it. If I do, Malachi will pull it in—use it against me.
My court battles at my back, holding off the guards finding their way around the crack of the Well, while I inch closer to my sister.
If I can just get close enough to shove her through the Arch, then I can deal with her on the other side.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, Selia. I didn’t realize what she let happen to you until it was too late.”
“You should have. She did it to you too.” Her voice is raspy.
My chest tightens because my sister is right. Our mother loved her kingdom more than anything, including her children. And I’ve paid for that with my blood, my soul, and my body for centuries. Anything for Vaelier.
“We have each other,” I remind her.
A lame attempt when I understand the depth of what is broken. She may never forgive me, but her hating me is better than leaving her here under the manipulation of Malachi.
I’m so close now I can taste the lightning in the air. Four steps, and I could reach out for my sister. Her hands shake with her quick breathing, and her magic swells with what must be an unbearable wave inside her.
With my court distracted, Malachi uses that to his advantage and finally strikes.
He sends a wave of light that catches me off guard.
I manage to fire a surge of aether to meet it, but his magic is so bright and strong.
It doesn’t just stream from his chest or his hands.
It barrels out of the orb. Something else twists with it, ripping through the aether.
Aether sparks at the edges as this unknown magic finds its way through. It seeps into my thoughts and screams in my ears. Like the whispers of shadow, but something else entirely.
It’s not of this realm. It tears into my thoughts. My fingers find my temples, and my knees buckle. It slithers between my ribs like it’s going to pull them apart.
Malachi and I have never been an even match. I’ve always been stronger. Whatever he’s wielding is so far beyond his own magic that it’s not just draining me, it’s draining him and his kingdom.
A piercing scream strums between my temples. It’s suffocating my thoughts. I can barely contain it. This might be it.
The end.
Selia moves, likely to take the final strike. I suppose if I’m going to die, it might as well be at the hand of my sister. I failed her in so many ways. It’s not her fault she ended up here. I should have been there for her instead of making excuses to run away from my obligations.
She moves with lethal efficiency, and my court is too far to stop her. Her hands twist, but instead of reaching for her magic, she draws a dagger hidden on the outside of her thigh. In a quick move, she spins, planting the blade into Malachi’s chest.
He releases the orb, stumbling back. His hands find the hilt of the blade as he stares blankly at her.
“How? Why?” Malachi’s shock stutters his words.
“Because my brother is right.” She glances at me.
“I knew her plan. I heard her when I wasn’t supposed to.
She was going to sacrifice you for Vaelier, and I couldn’t let it happen.
But she sent me here before you returned.
Before I could warn you. And when you fell, I wasn’t strong enough to do anything about it.
So I played my part. I stayed close when Malachi put you in the prison, knowing our only chance was to wait for you to wake your mate.
Only then could we maybe get through this. ”
Her attention turns to Malachi now. A veil of lightning streams from the sky, sparking the ground around us.
“I waited for my chance.”
Malachi’s cheeks are red with anger. His eyes are dark and dim as he stumbles back another step. His fingers grip the blade, seeping with blood.
“I took care of you. I loved you,” Malachi spits.
“You don’t love anyone but yourself. And you used me just like she did,” Selia seethes.
All this time, I thought my sister was under Malachi’s manipulation, but she was waiting. Plotting for this moment to get her revenge.
Selia glances over her shoulder at me. “I never left you. I couldn’t.”
My heart is pounding too fast, but I don’t care. I take a step to reach for her, but Malachi grabs her first.
The orb is blinding as he pulls the dagger from his chest. Blood dribbles down his gold tunic, but he’s grinning.
“I warned you you’re not strong enough.” He looks me in the eyes as he plunges the blade into my sister’s heart.
The scream that rips out of me isn’t Fae. It isn’t of this world at all. It’s a chasm bursting open inside me.
I rip every bit of aether from the wind, the trees, the stone. I wrap it around myself, and I unleash Sarrow. Guards scream. They drop. They fall. And yet, no amount of magic I throw at Malachi works. He stands in a bubble, protected. Drinking my magic.
The ground starts to shake as another palace wall crumbles. Malachi tosses Selia at me, and I barely have time to catch her. The blade sticks from her heart, and her smile is weak, but it’s there.
“Don’t go. Don’t go,” I beg. “Please don’t go.”
She lifts a blood-soaked finger to my cheek, but it falls before it reaches me. Her eyes empty, and I unleash magic like that of the god who blessed me with his.
Destruction.