19. Drum Beats and Lightning Strikes Are Quite Handy #3
The small man looks up into the mist, his face melding with the snowy mist in Sapphira’s mind, his skin blue and swirling with symbols. In his hands, he holds Sapphira’s blade.
“You have given me no choice, Svikari. Just stop this, and I won’t have to kill you!”
“I’m sorry, but that can’t be,” the voice rumbles. “I will be the God of the new world.”
“Then I’m sorry, brother. This is the end.”
The man charges, facing off against the shadowy giant, his voice echoing in Sapphira’s mind as they both disappear.
Sapphira gasps as the world fades back into view, raising her sword on instinct to meet the king’s.
Whoa. Was that . . . memories from the sword? She has never seen that man before, but it’s like she knows him: Askerh?lla.
Commander Domhen said the sword would reveal itself to her.
Is this what they meant? Before she can worry over it any further, King Cornelius swings at Sapphira, tearing through the chain and slashing her side.
She crumples to her knees, a hand coming up to stanch blood flow.
Her head hangs, chest rising with her ragged breath.
“Just face it. This is over,” he says. “You have no chance.” His eyes flicker to Isabel behind her, held back by the soldiers.
Her teeth grit at the sight of Circe behind Isabel, a blade to her throat.
The sight makes her see red. She doesn’t care about getting revenge or proving herself with her sword.
She just wants Isabel. She needs her. All she cares about is getting Isabel to safety.
“I will kill you,” the king taunts, already believing he’s won. “Then I will kill this girl.”
“You will not!” Sapphira shouts, lunging up at the king’s throat.
Just then, as her cry resounds across the mountaintop, a clap of lightning strikes the peak. Sapphira’s breath catches as her eyes follow the lightning bolt up into the darkening sky.
Kaelen floats above them, his wings beating to keep him in the air and his body glowing as blue electricity hums around him.
The takops’s fur stands on end as he stares at Isabel, an angry Dorian on his back with his fist in the air.
The sight is beautiful. Lightning crackles around him, his frame blotting out the sky, neck longer, wings bigger. She smiles.
“Now!” Sapphira shouts, and she and Isabel throw smoke balls, filling the air with fog.
The ground comes out from underneath her as Kaelen swoops down. Dorian grabs her and Isabel and takes them up into the air.
“Took you long enough, you useless draek?n,” Sapphira shouts, playfully smacking his head. He snorts a laugh, and she bends down to place a kiss on his head, her pounding heart settling. Then she adds, more softly, “Just in time.”
The smoke begins clearing, and King Cornelius shouts in rage to the sky. “Get back here and fight me!” His hair is greasy and unkempt, falling into his face as he watches her go. “You’re like me!” he shouts, “You want to end me yourself. You want to settle this on the battlefield.”
Sapphira can’t help her laughter, smug satisfaction filling her at the sight of the “mighty” pirate king losing his perfect control. “That’s where you’re wrong!” she calls back. “We are not the same.”
Maybe once. Maybe once, her pride would not have let her walk away. She would have rushed in to fight with no regard for herself or those around her. Not anymore.
“You’re just a bug, Cornelius. You are not worth the attention of a queen.
I think I’ll let my friends handle you,” she says, her arms tightening around Isabel’s waist. Her stomach turns at the sight of blood trailing down Isabel’s throat, nicked by Circe’s blade.
“You see, it’s a collaboration. When you help someone, not to get something back, but out of the kindness of your heart, that help is often returned. ”
A roar shakes the trees as draek?ns swoop down upon the hundreds of men. The wine-red-and-jade-green draek?n Isabel saved months ago leads the charge, heading straight for the king.
Then comes the merman, his dui raised over his head.
The creatures Kaelen recruited melt out of the shadows, attacking the men from below.
Cornelius tries to run, his screams piercing the mountain, but he’s no match for a draek?n’s speed and ferocity.
The battle is won quickly once they enter.
She doesn’t see Circe’s end in all of the commotion, but she finds that she doesn’t care.
The woman means nothing to her anymore. Her hair, which once resembled sunshine, is sand to her. Common and easy to find.
The four of them stay in the air, Kaelen’s wings beating around them. Sapphira watches until the last soldier is taken care of, Isabel’s face pressed to her chest to block out the sight. She runs her fingers over Isabel’s horns to soothe her.
“Let’s go home,” Sapphira says.
Kaelen flies them all back to Bastama, to their little cottage on the hill. The night is chilly, and the stars twinkle in a blue haze as they make their way into the home. Kaelen strides to the fireplace to warm the room, and Sapphira helps Isabel to the couch, where she urges her to stay put.
The chimera watches curiously as Sapphira putters around, returning with a cloth and sanitizing water. Isabel laughs as Saphirra dips the fabric and begins to dab at her neck.
“Didn’t think you’d ever be the one being tended to, did you?” Sapphira teases, a twinkle in her eye. “I’ve picked up a thing or two from you, Isabel Bajiyah. I might just take your job. ‘Healer Sapphira Tuisaravere’ has a ring to it.”
Isabel smiles, but her eyes quickly turn downcast, a wrinkle growing across her brow. “Healer and not a princess?” she asks.
Sapphira swallows her laughter, a starstone settling in her stomach at the serious tone.
“I don’t know . . . I don’t think ‘princess’ suits me anymore.
” She attempts to laugh, setting the cloth on the floor and bandaging Isabel’s neck.
“Who wants a dirty princess who risks her life for cake and sews her own clothes?”
“I would,” Isabel says. Her voice is soft, her eyes round and shining as she lifts Sapphira’s chin with a gentle hand. “I think there couldn’t be a more perfect princess. A more perfect queen than you.”
Sapphira’s chest warms at the touch of Isabel’s words.
“I’m honored you feel that way. But I don’t think that’s my journey.
I mean, who would keep you out of trouble?
” Her eyes trail across the home to the kitchen, where Kaelen and Dorian are bickering at the sink.
“I think I could find someone who’d be a better ruler than me.
” Isabel follows her gaze. “I think it’ll all be okay,” she adds softly. “The kingdom will be in good hands.”
Isabel smiles, holding out a hand for Sapphira to take. “Come on. Let’s go prepare dinner before those two tear each other apart.”
Sapphira follows Isabel into the kitchen, where they nudge the men aside. Pulling on colorful smocks and tugging back their hair, they begin preparing a stew, calling out instructions for the boys to follow.
“Dorian, slice and toast the bread . . .”
“. . . Kaelen, stay away from the guava and whip up this cream.”
The kitchen is cramped as they weave around one another, slicing, stirring, and squabbling. It’s noisy and messy, and Sapphira is building up a sweat, but she doesn’t feel overwhelmed by the chaos. She’s thriving in it, with a smile and a quip at the ready.
A small feast is gathered before them when they sit down to eat.
There are elbows, reaching hands, and laughter as the four hungry friends grab for rourou, goat curry, mofongo-and-shrimp stew, and fried plantains.
Sapphira added some recipes to Isabel’s book, guiding the woman to recreate some of her favorite childhood dishes.
Dorian goes on and on about his travels, marveling over Sule?hare?n as Sapphira had when she arrived and telling of the people he and Kaelen encountered. Sapphira is content to sit back and listen as Kaelen interjects with an opposing view of their adventure.
“You did not convince the merman to join us,” Kaelen argues, leaning over the table into Dorian’s face. “I had already eased the way months ago. I got my ribs cracked!”
“Well, I—” Dorian starts, but Sapphira’s laughter startles out of her, quieting the table. She can’t stop herself, even as everyone stares at her, watching her fall apart. Finally, her laughter dies down, and she wipes her wet eyes.
“You did good.” Sapphira looks from Dorian to Kaelen. “You both did very well.”
Kaelen sits back, smiling, his arms crossed over his chest.
“And how did you do that thing . . . with the lightning?” she asks.
Kaelen leans forward, practically vibrating in his seat. “Did you like it? That was cool, wasn’t it?”
“Whoa, whoa, Sparky,” she says with a laugh. “Calm down. Yes, it was cool. Very awesome and dramatic.”
He sits back, looking smug and pleased by her approval. “My entire family are lightning users. I have blue flame , as you could see. Which”—he scratches his neck—“I actually didn’t know until today. That was my first time using it.”
Sapphira nods, impressed. “Well, it was the perfect time for it to appear. Good job.”
The conversation moves away from the fight against the king to the delicious meal. Everyone cheers when Isabel brings out the desserts, but Sapphira can’t take another bite. She sits back and watches Isabel play host in her cute little apron and can’t help the swell of emotion that fills her.
Kaelen rubs his hands as he puts down gulgula, pineapple custard pie, and plenty of guava cake with tea.
As Kaelen and Dorian curl up on the floor, bellies full and bodies weary from their long journey, Sapphira tells Isabel to sit down, then takes care of the cleaning, knowing the chimera won’t be able to relax until it’s done.