15. Chapter 15
fifteen
We retreated to the castle in the quiet aftermath of the completed spell. Although, “retreat” felt like the wrong word since technically we’d emerged from this round victorious.
Yet it wasn’t a celebration as a group of us reunited at the castle.
A sense of unsettledness and trepidation trembled in the air as I stood beside Silas and Ranger Z.
Lily and Ranger X arrived next, then Millie and Liza made their appearances.
Atlas arrived last, looking like he’d fought off a hundred spirits alone.
He brushed back his hair and gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Nothing playful, no smirk like he usually had at the ready.
“Why doesn’t this feel finished?” I asked Silas, as we congregated in the dining area of the castle. Millie was quietly serving snacks that nobody was eating. “We healed the island. We vanished the attacking spirits. I thought there would be a sense of finality.”
“It’s like Medusa.” Atlas crunched into a juicy apple.
He was the only person who had the stomach to eat anything.
“You’ve cut off several of her snakes, but she’s regrowing them as we speak.
Not technically Medusa, obviously. You’ve crippled the Darkest Lord, Alessia, but you haven’t defeated him. He will return, stronger than before.”
Silas, in rare agreement with his brother, nodded along with Atlas’s analysis.
“At least we’ve bought ourselves some time,” I mused. “Any idea how much time?”
Silas shook his head. “He’ll attack when he’s ready, and my guess is that it will be sooner rather than later.”
“What does Olympus think?” I asked with Atlas. “They’ve got to have some say at this point.”
“You defeated the spirits.” Atlas raised one humongous shoulder and let it drop. “That’s enough reassurance for them at the moment that you can handle the situation.”
Just then, the very walls of the castle trembled, the marble floors rattled beneath our feet. The whole interior of the castle grew dark; even the candles flickered low as a shadow descended over us, thick and permeable, seeping into every corner of every room.
“Sooner rather than later,” Silas repeated. “It’s him.”
“Is it actually him ?” I asked. “Or is he sending in more spirits?”
“No, it’s him,” Silas said sharply. “I can feel his presence.”
I raised a hand and rested it on Silas’s shoulder. He was so tense, the muscle there felt like a boulder. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed. He looked anxious, on edge to a degree I’d never seen before, and that worried me. Like he might snap if pulled in the wrong direction.
I climbed the stairs to get a better vantage point from the second-floor balcony of the castle. I stood in front of the throne, at the same place where I’d been crowned queen. I turned to face the Darkest Lord as he revealed himself to me for the first time.
Already, the river that split the island in two pulsed with a white light as it flowed beneath the castle.
It throbbed with a frenetic sort of magic, as if reacting to my stress and uncertainty.
I could feel the energy from the ley lines bursting at the seams, like the ley lines themselves wanted to wrap around the castle to keep it protected from this massive swell of evil infiltrating our island.
A swarm of islanders had descended on the east bank of the river. Most of them had probably journeyed to the castle in hopes of celebrating the fact that the spirits had been banished, to exhale a collective sigh of relief that we’d escaped the Darkest Lord’s clutches.
But instead of the joy and hope we’d all anticipated, the islanders now looked toward the formidable skies where dark, smoky clouds gathered with a threatening density.
Dread plagued their faces as if the clouds themselves were made of spirits, ready to rain down on us in a disastrous torrent of dark magic.
I felt the Darkest Lord before I saw him.
When he moved, it was with confidence and intimidation.
He was superhumanly tall, his figure stocky and built, made bulkier by the armor wrapped around his body.
The armor was black and gnarled, scarred and scratched from memories probably more horrific than I could imagine.
Despite his impressive size, he moved with astounding dexterity and grace.
Fear tightened my chest as I studied the horrifying figure.
What I could see of his face was gaunt, though he had more humanlike features than the spirits, but even so, something essential was missing.
This man carried a shroud of darkness around him that was so heavy it was as if it were siphoning the oxygen from the very air.
I gasped as he moved closer, finding it hard to get a good, deep breath. With each step he took, the ground browned and died beneath his feet. He was cursed to the core. He was the curse made flesh. As he approached, the fog about him swelled and wrapped me like a stifling blanket on a muggy day.
The Darkest Lord strode toward the castle from the west side of the river, as if emerging from The Forest. But he wasn’t emerging from The Forest. He’d stepped straight through a seam in the air, making the movement look simple, as if he’d done nothing more than peel back a curtain separating our realm from theirs.
He clearly didn’t need portals and cursed lands to move between realms. He stepped between them with startling ease.
As the tear in the realms closed behind him, The Forest behind him grew darker, the trees blackening as if sucked into his orbit, an army of leaf-ridden trunks bending to his every will.
Wind whipped through the branches, but unlike The Isle’s soothing, calm breezes—these were mini tornados of despair.
“You may have banished my armies,” the Darkest Lord announced in a low, booming voice, “but they were disposable at best. Pawns to move around this island like a chessboard. Just because you’ve defeated the pawns doesn’t mean you’ve captured the king.”
“You will never take this island from us.” I looked down from the second-floor balcony, but even at this height, we were almost at eye level. “This is an island for the living. You’re the keeper of the lost souls. You do not belong here.”
“I will make this island my own, just as I’ve created my underworld empire from a raw spirit realm,” he said. “All I need is you. Your power. To transform this place into all it could be with me at the helm.”
The confidence in his voice made me shudder. It sounded like he had a plan. From what I’d gathered, the Darkest Lord didn’t make plans he didn’t intend to keep.
“I can release you,” I said softly, as he came to a stop at the bank of the river. “I can release your spirit. Free you from the underworld forever.”
“What makes you think I want to be released?”
“It’s a good offer,” Silas growled. “You should take it.”
“I’m not looking to be released.” The Darkest Lord completely ignored Silas, as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “I’m seeking your power. You’ll give it to me, the only question is how many people you’ll let die before that happens.”
“The power isn’t mine to give.” I raised my hands. The river flashed with a surge of light, as if agreeing with me. “The magic I wield originates from the island, from the people on it, from my ancestors. Even if I wanted to give you my power, I wouldn’t know how.”
“The heartbeats you’ve collected will belong to me.” The Darkest Lord peered upward at me, cocking his head in a movement that seemed almost robotic. “We’re not so different after all, you and me. Queen of Isles, Lord of the Underworld. You collect heartbeats like I collect souls.”
I shook my head. I hated being compared to him.
Though I knew we were nothing alike, the doubt that crept into the edges of my mind served as a reminder for how powerful, how convincing, the Darkest Lord could be.
How thoroughly he could decimate a place with his rule, how I’d die before I let that happen to my beautiful island.
“Don’t believe me?” A hand encompassed by black armor slid out from beneath his robes. Miles and miles of black fabric draped around his neck, billowing out behind him in the breeze. “See for yourself.”
Before I could stop him, the Darkest Lord twisted his wrist, and in sync with the curling motion, an islander across the riverbank collapsed. He fell to the ground, a wisp of pearly white essence drifting away from his now-lifeless body toward the Darkest Lord.
The Darkest Lord balanced that shimmering spirit in his palm for a mere heartbeat before he flicked his wrist again, and it vanished into nothing. A cry rose from the islanders as they realized what had happened. As they realized the Darkest Lord had killed, right in front of everyone.
Several islanders took off running in the ensuing panic while several others readied for a fight.
Still others stood rooted to the spot by fear.
In my chest flared a hot anger; the Darkest Lord had taken a soul from this island, steps from my castle.
He’d captured a spirit that belonged to my court and had stolen it back to his realm.
“You will not take any more spirits that belong to my court.” I raised my hands, letting the training I’d experienced with Seer Goddard return to me as I let the wind whip through my hair, the waters lap at the riverbanks, the ground shake beneath my feet.
I was soothed by the feel of the elements wrapping around me like an embrace. “I will not let you.”
As I glanced toward the riverbank, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face. Seer Goddard stood in unity with the islanders, looking up at the balcony at me as if I were his queen, too. He had returned to fight beside me, a full-circle moment as master submitted to his apprentice.