Chapter 16 #2
His expression darkened, becoming even more menacing.
“Yeah, I didn’t factor in your ability to play every musical instrument ever invented.
” He shrugged again. “A slight oversight on my part.” He twirled a finger.
“But that’s all right. Dubh a’Ghiuthais will finish the job, anyway.
She enjoys it.” He flicked a hand, holding it out while intently focusing on something behind her. “I believe that is yours?”
She turned, and her heart almost stopped beating.
Derrick’s magic held Magnus pinned to the farthest wall of the circular room.
With teeth bared and his eyes wild with fury, Magnus, the man who had taught her it was safe to trust him, to love him, strained to break free, to speak, but couldn’t.
Rather than run and throw herself across him the way she really wanted to, she forced herself to hold strong.
She turned back and faced Derrick. “Why do you call yourself Kcirred? Couldn’t you come up with anything better?
A little more creative than simply spelling your name backwards? I mean—seriously?”
“You’ve toughened up even more,” he said. “Admirable.” He nodded at Magnus. “So should I go ahead and kill him now, or what?”
“You can’t kill him,” she said in an off-handed way, praying she was right.
If her heart pounded any harder, she’d surely pass out from breathlessness.
“You might throw enough magic through that scale to hold him in place, but Rurik’s not going to allow you to use her powers as a conduit to destroy the finest chief this realm has ever known.
” She forced a haughty laugh when all she really wanted to do was drop to her knees and beg for Magnus’s freedom.
But she wouldn’t do that. That’s what Derrick wanted—and he possessed no mercy.
He’d kill Magnus anyway. “You can’t kill him because you’re too big a coward to attempt it in person.
” Shaking her head, she waved him away like the joke that he was.
“What a spineless worm.” She put the violin back to her shoulder and started playing the song he’d always hated for reasons he’d never said.
It didn’t matter. If he hated this tune, then he was going to listen to it until something or someone showed her how to end this horrible standoff and put an end to him.
He shook his fist. “You know I hate that song. Stop it!”
“Nope.” She played louder, belting out the country ballad about good overcoming evil because evil was nothing but a liar. “I like this song. A lot.”
“You better stop!” Derrick drew back, then attempted to launch a swirling ball of energy.
She braced herself and stepped closer, widening her stance to block the shot so he couldn’t hit Magnus. Behind her, a fierce, rumbling growl shook the tower.
“Protect yerself, my love! Protect our child!”
In her mind, Magnus’s voice washed across her like a reassuring caress, strengthening her and giving her the confidence she needed. “I’m protecting all of us,” she thought back to him, “because I love you—Trust me!”
Derrick’s burst of power exploded inside the scale, enabling Lyla to breathe easier.
She’d been right. Even from the eternal plane of the never-ending sleep, benevolent Rurik would never allow her gift to the Realm to be used to destroy Magnus.
Lyla continued the song, playing it louder and faster.
The longer she played, the more she noticed how the black creature swirling around the tower became more disjointed and awkward, almost as if it were crumbling, turning to dust.
“Come on, Derrick! Clap along,” she taunted, drawing the bow faster across the strings, her fingers flying up and down the violin’s fingerboard.
A low, moaning filled the air, sinking out of the clouds and puddling in a dark mist around the base of the fortress, drowning the land in shadow. Then an ear-splitting shriek tore through the inky blackness, wailing as though the earth had given up every spirit it had ever swallowed.
As she played, Lyla worked her way back across the room until she stood directly in front of Magnus.
She turned and faced him, switching the song to the music of her soul.
Deep down, at the most basic level of unexplainable instincts, she knew if she blanketed the two of them in her soul’s song, they would survive.
She angled around so she could press her shoulder against him as she played—because she couldn’t stop playing.
If the music stopped, they would be doomed.
Explosions shook the tower. Chunks of stone rained down around them, bouncing across the floor. Dust and debris filled the air, threatening to choke her.
She continued the song, summoning the perfect peacefulness of the blue-white light that always buoyed her whenever she unleashed the music’s power.
Derrick shrieked, piercing the air with the terrified scream of a prima donna cornered by a mouse. His image flickered, then disappeared. Rurik’s scale went dark, shuddering until it cracked in two and toppled from the pedestal.
Another deafening wail cut through the cloud of debris and darkness, blotting out the sun. Repeated volleys of white-hot flames struck all around them, exploding with retina-burning brightness.
Lyla dove toward Magnus as he slid down the wall and crumpled to the ground.
His arms closed around her and tightened, making her sob with relief.
She buried her face in his chest, clutching him with the firm intention of never letting him go.
“Are you hurt?” she tried to shout, but it came out as a weak croak.
She lifted her head and drew closer to his face, her hands on either side of his head, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Are you hurt?”
His smile was weak and less than reassuring as he grazed a tender touch along her jawline, then buried his fingers in her hair. “Naught but a wee scratch, my own. But now I must rise and finish this.”
“No. You need to stay here with me.” Shifting to sit on him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m not letting you go.”
With a dismissive snort, he hooked his forearm up under her bum and stood, holding her in the crook of his arm like a toddler who had tired of walking. “Ye see? I am fine.” He brushed the sweetest of kisses across her mouth. “Now, let me end this, aye?”
She hugged him tight one last time, then grudgingly nodded for him to lower her to her feet. A wave of dizzying relief swept across her, making her stumble back and lean against the wall.
Magnus didn’t miss her temporary weakness. Catching her around the waist, he steadied her. “I shall spell ye to yer bed so Albionna and Talia can see to ye.”
“No.” She caught hold of his powerful wrists. “I want to stay here with you. I’m fine. It’s just the drop in adrenaline. I’m fine—I swear.” She swallowed hard, determined not to puke and reveal herself to be a liar.
Hellys speared through one of the arched windows and landed beside her with the agility and grace of a tiny sparrow rather than a fifteen-ton beast. She squeezed a tear from the corner of her enormous golden eye and caught it on her claw.
“Here, Divine One. It will strengthen ye.” Holding it closer to Lyla’s mouth, the dragon waited for the healing gift to be accepted.
Appreciating the warrior dragon’s support, Lyla scooped up the large teardrop beaded atop the lethal claw and drank from her cupped hands. “You’re always here for us. Thank you, Hellys.”
Head bowed, the powerful dragon sidled closer while shooting a meaningful look at Magnus.
Perfect curlicues of smoke rose from her glistening nostrils.
“I shall stand here at yer side, Divine One. Until it is over. I destroyed the Dubh a’Ghiuthais, but I fear she still had time to send what remained of her magic to the vile Kcirred.
” She eyed Lyla, slowly blinking as she lowered her muzzle even more.
“I am honored to stay at the side of one so brave. I did not miss how valiantly ye battled him.”
“He is an old enemy,” Lyla said, still astounded that Derrick had lived and functioned in her world as an ordinary human when he’d really been a demon conjuring, soul-sucking druid who had tormented the Thirteenth Realm for however many hectrooms or hundreds of years it had taken him to find her and attempt to nullify the prophecy.
“Ipsillian and Lord Darkmist have brought him to the chief for judgment.” Hellys threw out her chest, watching her mate with pride as he threw Derrick at Magnus’s feet.
Fearing that the demon still had enough power to hurt them, Lyla tried to pull her guitar around to play it, but discovered it hanging in tatters down her back.
It must’ve shielded her from a direct hit when one of Hellys’s blasts at Dubh a’Ghiuthais took out part of the tower’s roof and sent chunks of stone flying.
Her violin had experienced the same fate.
She pulled the wooden Irish flute from her boot, but it had splintered. Somehow, she’d crushed it, and now that she looked at it, she became aware of a distinct throbbing in the side of her calf. She’d probably be picking out splinters for a while.
She reached down into the other boot and smiled. The piccolo, the devil’s whistle. How appropriate. She stood ready to pierce Derrick’s ears with the high-pitched instrument.
“What say ye, brother?” Talon asked, his pleasure and pride with the moment unmistakable. “To the abyss with him? A few hectrooms in the dungeons to give the guards a bit of entertainment?”
Magnus didn’t answer. He just stood there, his fingers resettling on the haft of his sword. Its blade glinted in the sun streaming through the breaking clouds, reflecting the light as if blazing with holy fire.
Cowering, Derrick glared up at him, baring his teeth like a cornered rat.