Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Valdier home world:
Palace
“Move it, move it, move it—what did I miss?” Zoran asked, shoving his way between Ha’ven and Adalard on the couch he had set up in the planning room and narrowly avoiding a bowl of caramel-glazed, crispy root chips.
“Shhh!” Creon hissed, waving a hand at the massive screen attached to the far wall. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, his fingers flexing. “Phoenix just shifted!”
Zoran’s heart clenched. “What’s she doing this time?!”
“Dragon, but she is magnificent in her new form,” Mandra murmured. “She’s about to scorch the big bone ship.”
“Phoenix definitely has flair,” Creon said, his voice thick with pride and terror. “That’s an awfully big ship—and she’s taking it head-on.”
“Ho-ho! Roam’s still got a dose of that magic mushroom,” Vox piped up, his eyes glued to the swirling battle. “Use your tail! Use your tail! YES! THAT’S MY BOY! Damn, I hope he brings some of that fungi home.”
Trelon, casually reclining in an oversized chair off to the side like he was watching the playoffs, popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth and pointed at the chaos on screen.
“Amber just let loose the Spider Blaster 5000. James must have modified it. I didn’t know they could connect to make one massive spider.
” He squinted, then grinned. “Ooooh! Jade’s got the Bubble Binder commando-move going.
Look at how she is holding it and focusing as she shoots!
Cara is not getting her hands on that for the amusement park. ”
“Why not?” Adalard asked, his eyes wide and his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white. “We’ve already got a tunnel that spins upside down. We can handle a few arachnoid and bubble traps!”
“Speak for yourself,” Ha’ven muttered. “Alice conjured a tornado of glitter last month. I still have glitter in places I don’t want to talk about and dots dancing in my eyes.”
Zoran barely heard them. His eyes were locked on the cursed flagship—Blackheart’s grotesque vessel stitched from bones and dark magic, now roaring with flames from a glorious gash Phoenix had burned clean through from bow to stern.
“Well… she’s definitely not going to be grounded,” Trelon said dryly. “That kind of destruction earns at least a week of desserts. Possibly two. That was a seriously sweet maneuver.”
“I want to know where Jabir is,” Mandra grunted. “I don’t see him. Why don’t I see him?”
“Relax, he’s probably launching himself off a mast with a grappling hook made of pretzels,” Vox said.
A hush fell over the room as Adalard suddenly leapt to his feet, pointing wildly. “There! There they are!”
The screen zoomed in on the flaming deck of Blackheart’s flagship.
Alice stood firm, sorceress-like, radiant in her glowing battle armor, her hand lifted.
Light crackled from her fingers and blinded Saldusa, a sickly green-skinned woman with glowing red eyes and a crown of slimy seaweed for hair.
Behind Saldusa was a swirling mist that took shape.
“Adaline,” Adalard breathed, his voice a rasp.
On screen, the Elemental mist shimmered, coalescing behind the dark sorceress.
Saldusa shrieked and spun, a blade gleaming in her hand. She slashed through the mist.
Adalard’s tortured cry rang through the room. “NO!”
Everyone stilled, their breaths caught as they waited in tense silence.
Suddenly… the mist roiled, folded in on itself, and embraced the sorceress.
Alice stepped forward, her hand outstretched. Her palm touched Adaline’s.
And Saldusa froze.
Crystals of salt began forming across her face.
“What… what’s happening?” Ha’ven asked, awe and fear warring in his voice.
“The old hag must be seeing her own reflection in every direction,” Trelon whispered. “They must’ve created a reflective surface, Adaline protecting Alice from the witch’s magic while Alice creates a mirror.”
Saldusa spun, a horrific screech escaping her as every reflection stared back with unblinking eyes. Salt crystalized over her skin. Her limbs jerked. Her face twisted.
Then—
Adaline dissolved and reformed beside Alice just as a monstrous beast charged toward them.
“WATCH OUT!” Ha’ven bellowed.
Alice grabbed Adaline.
In the blink of an eye, they vanished.
The monster slammed into the pillar of salt.
Saldusa toppled backward, a statue of malice and salt shattering as it hit the waves.
A stunned silence filled the room.
Then… cheers erupted.
“BOOM, BABY!” Ha’ven whooped, leaping into the air.
“WHO ARE THE WARRIOR PRINCESSES?!” Adalard shouted, his fists pumping as he high-fived Ha’ven mid-air.
Zoran clutched his chest. “I’m going to need a second heart at this rate.”
“Still no Jabir,” Mandra muttered. “Where’s my boy? I know he’s somewhere.”
Trelon popped more popcorn into his mouth. “He’s probably on the Isle of the Monsters since we haven’t seen him yet.”
“I hope you’re right,” Mandra muttered, running his hands through his hair. “Seeing this, he’s probably in a safer place.”
Trelon leaned back, reaching for another handful of popcorn. “Jabir… and monsters. How many do you think he’ll want to bring home? Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of Kids Who Torture Their Dads.”
Mandra groaned into his hands.
“You’ve got to admit, it would be pretty cool to be there with them right now,” Vox commented, watching Roam send another dozen evil pirates overboard.
“I’m really impressed with Amber and Jade’s weapon deployment strategy. It’s effective, and their power-to-unpredictability ratio is off the charts,” Creon said.
“I want a crate of those damn feathers. Just think what Cara and I could create with them!” Trelon responded with a wave of his hand at the screen.
“Yeah.” Zoran nodded. “But I think we need to ban the use of Demented Symbiots.”
“They fight dirty,” Trelon noted, wincing when he saw several attach themselves to the crotches of a group of pirates. “Ouch! That is going to cause a few nightmares.”
“I like the popcorn cannon and those whatever-they-are coming out of the water.” Adalard grinned.
“Sea monkeys. Goddess, I hope Jabir doesn’t bring any of those home,” Mandra muttered.
“Did you see the one climbing up the mast with a saber, chopping at the ropes? That thing had ambition,” Ha’ven said with respect.
“Hey, look! Ashure is giving the bone ship a massive dose of you’re screwed,” Zoran crowed as the Sea Wasp released a relentless barrage of cannon fire onto Blackheart’s remaining fleet.
The massive ship listed to the back, the flagship slowly sinking into the waves.
At the bow, rising higher and higher into the air, stood the half-monster/half-pirate captain, his claw gripping a rope while his eyes glittered with the promise of retribution.
Aminta smiled as she watched the group of fathers rooting for their children. She already knew what the outcome would be—even with no help from her. After all, what was it Jade had said?
Oh yes. There was no way anyone—not Blackheart, not Saldusa, not even the threat of being grounded for eternity—could stop the Dragonlings now.
The stars above the Isle of the Pirates glittered brighter than they had in centuries, as if the skies themselves had joined in the celebration.
From the balcony of the palace, Ashure Waves stood with his arm wrapped tightly around Tonya, breathing in the salt-sweet air that carried the distant echo of music and laughter from the capital city below.
Magical lanterns flickered across rooftops. Flags waved from every mast. Bells rang out over the harbor, each chime a note in the song of a kingdom rejoicing.
Nothing says celebration like pirates winning a major battle! he thought.
He chuckled softly, his lips twitching as he glanced down at Tonya. She’d done her best to wash away the evidence of battle, but a smudge of soot still darkened the curve of her cheek and flecks of stubborn glitter clung to the backs of her hands and hair like stardust refusing to let go.
She caught his gaze and arched an eyebrow.
“What?” she demanded innocently.
He leaned down and kissed her—slow, warm, and full of quiet wonder.
“You are the most dangerous, dazzling, absolutely maddening woman I know,” he muttered against her lips. “And I’m proud to call you my wife.”
Tonya’s eyes crinkled as she smiled and leaned into his side. “You’re just saying that because I didn’t set the palace on fire while you were gone.”
“Oh, you were setting a few fires—just not in the palace,” he deadpanned, before adding, “Thank you for that.”
Below them, the garden buzzed with life.
The young warriors—the Dragonlings, aka alien shapeshifters and energy sirens—were currently trying to balance a tray of delectable appetizers.
Their boisterous laughter rose above the fireworks.
They tossed snacks to each other while reliving every glorious, ridiculous moment of battle.
Ashure exhaled, his breath carrying a whisper of gratitude. Thank you, Goddess, for keeping them safe.
Blackheart’s fleet was scattered. His monstrous allies had either surrendered or disappeared into the shadows. As for Blackheart himself, well… Ashure’s smile turned grim.
That villain had made the fatal mistake of locking eyes with a divine force far greater than himself. Now, imprisoned in the Cauldron of Lost Souls, Blackheart would spend eternity staring into the truth of what he’d become.
And Saldusa?
Just another trace of salt drifting in the sea.
“Ashure.”
He turned as Orion and Drago stepped onto the balcony. Drago’s posture was relaxed, but his eyes remained sharp—ever the dragon. Orion’s gaze, as always, held the weight of far more years than his youthful face betrayed.
Together, they stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the group below with bemused expressions.
“They fought well,” Drago said finally, his voice low.
“Like born warriors,” Orion agreed. “But more than that… they fought like future leaders. Their parents should be proud of them.”