Chapter 25
ASTRA
It’s Marlak, lying in a prison cell in the Crystal Castle.
But it isn’t him. The way he looks at me is different. I can’t hesitate.
In a second, I attack, throwing him a burst of flame. It’s so small, though, and I feel as if my magic is not reaching him, as if he was blocking or absorbing it.
An ice dagger flies through the bars—and reaches his neck.
The false Marlak closes his eyes, and his body changes. It’s Zorwal, I suppose still healing from being frozen and broken, or perhaps creating a new body.
I increase my fire and engulf him in flames. He emits no yells, no sounds as his body burns. It doesn’t disappear, but turns into some kind of heavy, dark smoke.
“Let’s go,” Azur says, then holds my hand. I take Ziven’s, and remember that I have to transcend to Krastel, to a place where I’ve been before.
In my mind, I see Otavio’s study, that room with the comforting smell of books and potions where I was scolded too many times, but also where I grew up.
We land on the hard floor of Otavio’s empty study.
“Do you think Zorwal’s gone?” I whisper.
Ziven looks around. “If we kill the rest of them, I don’t think he’ll return. Otavio’s not here.”
“He’s in his bedroom.” A vision of him comes to mind. “No. The king’s bedroom.”
The door opens, and a bunch of guards storm in, holding swords. I take Azur’s and Ziven’s hands, and we transcend to my old room, which is thankfully empty.
“I’ve never been there,” I whisper. “It’s a bedroom, and it’s so fancy that I’m assuming it’s in the royal wing, but I’ve never been there.”
“I have,” Ziven whispers. “You’ve been to the throne room, right?”
“Twice.”
“If you get there, I can guide you.”
I recall going to see the king as a little girl, excited to be recognized by him, valued for protecting his daughter. The idea sounds so ridiculous now. My value does not lie in whatever the king recognized in me.
But I remember my excitement, and can return to that place.
The throne room is empty and dark, lit only by the faint moonlight peering through thin curtains. Ziven places a finger in front of his lips, and points at the window, then up.
I understand it now. His plan is for us to climb to the king’s room. We step outside to the ledge, and I turn to Azur. “Can you climb?”
“Obviously.” He sounds so annoyed that I won’t check on him next time.
I glance down to double check for any archers or guards, but nobody’s looking up, and the lights from the garden only make this wall darker compared to the grounds.
The stones here are a little different than the ones in the tower where I grew up.
This building is newer, with a smoother finish and fewer gaps for my hands.
Still, in a few seconds I reach the upper ledge, and Ziven reaches out a hand to me.
Azur’s already there, crouched with arms crossed, staring at me with a raised eyebrow, as if saying look who’s struggling.
Freaking fae and their deft agility. Ziven guides us to the side, then points up at a window, then mouths, “King’s room.”
If Otavio’s not there, I’ll have to check all the royal rooms in the castle. Not the end of the world. If he is there, I won’t hesitate. From crouched, I straighten my legs slightly, just to peer into the room—and can’t believe my eyes.
Sayanne’s there, her naked body wrapped around him in a loving embrace, her face so peaceful, so…
loving. I look at him and meet cold brown eyes staring at me.
Shit. Either Ziven or Azur breaks the window and we jump in, while a gust of air reaches us.
Otavio’s using magic, and a lot of it. I try to create a flame, but the wind quenches it.
On one of his hands, I see that familiar ring that looks like a stormy sky. A ring that can’t be stolen, and if his last owner was the Krastel King, who was killed…
It should return to the original owner; the Crystal Court crown.
I focus on it, then see it on my finger. Unsure how to use the artifact, I ask it to block Otavio’s magic. The wind stops, and Sayanne comes running, a dagger in her hand, except that a blast of water stops her.
I create a flame on each palm, and Otavio laughs. “You think you can defeat me, silly girl. Always so silly.”
“You’re a slut!” Sayanne yells, her feet locked in ice. “Always been a slut.”
Otavio is still laughing. “You can make a foolish attempt on my life and face the consequences, or you can join me. How would you like to have all the power you want? Your silly little fire won’t kill me, Astra.”
He’s messing with my mind, and for a moment it worked, but I’m not a little girl anymore. I smirk. “It doesn’t hurt to try.”
I send the strongest fire blast I can conjure on the bed. The flames catch quickly, and so does his body, as he emits the most horrific yell ever.
I don’t care, and say, “Maybe it does hurt.”
Beside me, a movement startles me. Sayanne somehow freed herself from the ice holding her, and advances on me, a dagger in her hand. I’m still wielding fire, and I don’t want to burn her and need to focus on Otavio. Ziven runs to her, and all she does is scrape my arm.
He subdues her on the floor, and Azur comes to help hold her down as I burn Otavio some more, just to make sure he’s completely turned to smoke. Again there’s only that strange dark cloud, no burned body.
Sayanne laughs. “You lost. Looost!” she says in a singsong voice. “He loved me! Me! Only me! Not you.”
So that was her problem. I always thought she was ambitious, but I suppose that wasn’t the whole story. What she truly wanted was Otavio’s attention, Otavio’s approval, in a very twisted way.
I used to feel something similar, except that I saw him as a father. She saw him as a lover. The depth to which he manipulated her mind drove her insane. She was my friend once. My sister, even. All I see on the floor is a puppet.
I glance at the door and make sure it’s barred, even if I hear no guards coming, then I kneel next to Ziven. “We’ll need to put her in a cell.”
He shakes his head, and I look back at Sayanne. There’s a purple liquid coming out of her mouth, and her eyes are turning glassy. She poisoned herself. I can’t believe it.
“Sayanne!”
She emits one final gasp, then her breathing stops, and she stares at nothing. I close her eyes as my chest feels strangely both tight and light at the same time, battling with sadness and relief, and yet mourning my friend.
Ziven and Azur let go of her, and Ziven says, “We should go.”
Go. Right. I need to transcend, but my thoughts are slow, confused even. For a second, I wonder where I am. My vision is blurry, and I decide to look at my arm. It’s black around the scrape.
“Poison,” I mutter, then I fall on the floor, and still manage to say, “Black worm ooze. I need…” My mind goes blank for a second, but I try to focus.
I need to focus—if I want to survive. There was something important I had to say. It comes to me fast like lightning. The antidote. Antidote. I need to tell them what the antidote is.
What antidote? What was I even trying to say? I don’t know where I am. Don’t know what’s happening.
MARLAK
My entire body’s taut, and I think I’m only going to relax when Astra’s back.
Tarlia, Renel, Nelsin, and Ferer are sitting around the kitchen table, their faces tense, while I’m in the sitting room with Mirella and Lidiane. I wonder if I should ask my sister what’s going on between her and Ziven, but I don’t know if I have the presence of mind to do that right now.
Three lightstones in sconces on the walls light the downstairs area, a gloomy glow, just like our mood.
And then, all at once, they go out, and the house is immersed in darkness.
“Brace for attack!” Renel yells. “It could be a circle of magic.”
He lights a candle in the kitchen, then Tarlia passes daggers and knives to all of us.
I keep my ears perked and my eyes on the window, but I think they’re exaggerating. I hope they’re exaggerating. Wasn’t the Witch King frozen? How would he get here? Why would he even come here, if the house is warded?
I try to condense some water, but I can’t. Oh, no.
I ask, “Is anyone’s magic—”
“Gone?” Mirella’s eyes are wide. “Yes.”
My heart stills as I hear a growl outside.
At that moment, a window breaks, then another.
Their frames explode into thousands of wooden pieces, while the front door collapses, and ghouls enter the house.
I push back my sister and Lidiane, and we retreat to the windowless kitchen, where I grab a heavy frying pan.
Someone tilts a table, and all I know is that Renel jumps in front of us, sword in hand, while I do my best with the pan.
The ghouls retreat when they’re hit, and if they’re beheaded or hit enough, they fall, but they’re strong and too many.
Hit, hit, hit, hit, and then more and more come, an interminable ocean flooding the house with bodies made of earth. My pan connects with a head, then another, getting heavier and heavier in my arms.
My sister and Lidiane are behind me, defending themselves with daggers. Nelsin and Ferer have swords, and it’s the two of them and my brother doing most of the work. I don’t know how long they’ll last.
I can’t even check on them, trying to push back the ghouls coming on my side, but a glance tells me Renel’s bleeding. And I can’t do anything. We’ll die here, trying to fight like this.
And yet I don’t know what else to do.
ZIVEN
Astra’s poisoned, fallen, unconscious.
I’ve heard of black worm ooze, the substance she identified before passing out.
The problem is that I have no idea what the antidote is.
She was trying to tell us, but didn’t have time.
If only I had stopped Sayanne earlier, perhaps even earlier than this, when she tried to kill Tarlia, but I can’t change the past now.
Azur looks at me, his brows contracted. “Do you know the antidote?”