Chapter 58 #2
Without breaking his assault on the beast, Wolfe extended his free hand and unleashed a barrage of crackling energy spheres. They streaked through the air like falling stars, each one finding its mark on the rebels with devastating accuracy.
They screamed as the dark magic tore through them, leaving behind the acrid smell of burning flesh mixed with blood.
The beast reared up on its hind legs, trying to shake Wolfe loose, but he held on. His wings beat furiously, creating gusts of wind that sent leaves and debris swirling around them in a chaotic dance.
With a roar that shook the foundations of the earth, Wolfe drove his sword deeper, twisting the blade until streams of blood poured out of the creature’s body.
The creature's massive claws raked across Wolfe's chest, tearing through his shirt, leaving crimson trails on his skin.
I screamed, expecting Wolfe to be ripped apart, but he didn't even flinch. Instead, he grabbed one of the beast's spines and used it as leverage to haul himself higher, positioning himself to attack again.
The beast was ready, too, despite the devastating blows it suffered. And more rebels came. Rushing toward me.
There were too many. I had no doubt that Wolfe could take them all, but what would it cost him? And they were coming for me.
That’s what this whole thing was about—taking me. The tracker. The path to finding the ring.
This battle was one big distraction.
And here I was, cowering behind a shield.
This wasn't me. This wasn't the girl who'd promised herself she would always try to fight.
I had to do something. Anything. Anything I could think of to stop them from taking me.
I was supposed to help Wolfe find the ring. Everything had led me here to this point. So, I couldn’t allow myself to get taken by his sister and throw off his plans to get his kingdom back.
A group of rebels reached me and started throwing balls of fire at the shield. Wolfe was so distracted he didn’t see.
The only thing I thought of that came to mind was using my powers. But I needed to think of how.
As horrid as Zyrra had been, she helped me realize there wasn’t anything wrong with my powers. I just didn’t see them for what they were.
I’d conjured a rose and made it age in the space of a minute. I didn’t know what the base power was—if I could speed up the life of something or call on death—but I needed to apply the same principles here.
I searched through my mind, trying to think of the answers, and something came to me.
The point of conjuring was calling forth something and bending it to your will with the energy from the Fray.
What if I called on all the years these rebels had to live and make them live out the rest of their lives within a minute?
Could that work?
Blessed Mother, there was only one way to find out.
I thought of the conjuring spell. I’d need to swap out the lines relevant for flowers and maybe use the old mage language from Ivaliyahce because there were so many rebels. The old language was more powerful.
Quickly, I wove together a spell in my mind, one that wouldn’t affect Wolfe. Then I took a deep breath.
I’d have to remove Wolfe’s shield to cast the spell.
Within the walls of such a powerful shield, nothing would happen.
The problem wasn’t removing the shield; I could do that part.
Arielle told me that no matter how powerful the shield, the person inside it could remove it, but they needed to use a basic power.
It was a way of dismissing the protection by honoring the natural laws of magic.
However, if the spell didn’t work, I would have basically handed myself to the rebels. By the same token, the shield was breaking from their energy balls, so they’d get to me eventually.
I had to act now or get taken.
I counted. One. Two. Three.
Summoning my elemental power, I broke down the shield.
As soon as it disappeared, I shouted, “Dokombriva, mortiulim, carpe liveum.” My voice carried in the wind, a desperate plea from my soul.
A rebel grabbed me, and I feared the spell didn’t work.
“Dokombriva, mortiulim, carpe liveum!” I repeated again and again and again. And again. That last time, something snapped inside me. Or switched on. It felt like…touching fire and being burned.
White light shot out of my hands, just like I’d seen with Arielle’s power.
The rebels holding me froze. Then they all did. Every single one of them. And even the beast Wolfe was fighting.
Seconds later, the rebels' skin began to change. What started as smooth flesh quickly became lined and weathered, as if decades were passing in heartbeats.
Their eyes grew cloudy and sunken. Their cheeks hollowed as their bodies withered. Their hair shifted from dark to silver to stark white, then began falling out in clumps that scattered on the wind.
Muscles atrophied, shoulders hunched, and their once-strong frames became frail and bent. Age spots bloomed across their skin like ink stains spreading through water.
Then came the cracking. Their skin split and flaked away like old parchment, revealing dried sinew beneath. Their bones became visible through translucent flesh that looked ready to tear at the slightest touch.
Within moments, what had been fierce warriors were now decrepit shells barely able to stand. They tried to scream, but only wheezed gasps escaped their withered throats.
And then, as if a strong wind had blown through the clearing, they simply... crumbled. Crumbled to dust.
Their bodies collapsed into themselves, flesh and bone disintegrating into fine gray powder that drifted away on the morning breeze.
Gods. It worked. It actually worked. I did that.
Me.
I did that.
In the space of a minute, I had reduced them all to nothing but dust and memory.
The Fae lived so long they were practically immortal. I couldn’t imagine how many years had passed by for them in that short space of time.
The beast Wolfe was fighting groaned, drawing my attention back to them. I could tell it was affected by the spell, too, but it was still aging. I took that to mean it had a longer lifespan than the Fae.
There was still some power in its body, but the rapid decline of its lifespan weakened it substantially. Wolfe delivered a fatal blow with his sword, severing its head.
The beast went down, shaking the earth. Wolfe rolled off the body, floating to the ground. There, he watched the beast’s mouth take one final breath. Then he looked around him.
I was far away, but I could see the shock on his face as he took in the dust blowing in the wind mixed in with the bodies of the dead rebels he’d killed.
He looked straight at me. And at my hands. I gazed at them, too, watching with wide eyes as the white energy simmered to a low flame.
Wolfe flew over to me and took my hands into his. The white flame burned brightly, but not with the wild energy to attack. It was like my powers recognized his.
His shadows curled with my flame, and the two burned black and white. Like night and day.
“You… did that?” he asked, his voice careful, his eyes soft and searching.
“I…had to do something.”
“And you did, Ziyka.”
I smiled back at him, and he smiled at me, too, full of pride. I couldn’t remember anyone looking as proud as he was of me. But as soon as I thought of Zyrra, my chest tightened, and my flame extinguished.
“Wolfe, this was my fault.” My shoulders slumped.
He shook his head. “No, of course not.”
“Yes, it was. Back on the ship, you warned me to be careful who I spoke to, but I didn’t listen.”
“Elariya. This is not your fault. There’s a bigger threat at work here.”
“I know. And your sister is part of it.”
The color drained from his face and was replaced by a sickly paleness. “My… sister? Zyrra?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry. I met her weeks ago when I first arrived. She seemed so genuine. She looked so genuine. She told me you guys fell out and asked me not to say anything to you about being at the house. I didn’t know she wasn’t allowed in. She said she came to tend to the garden.”
Wolfe looked worse, but I had to keep going.
I had to tell him everything. “Yesterday I saw her at the library. She told me about your mother.” My throat closed around the words.
“I felt so sorry for her, Wolfe, I gave her one of Sirril’s muffins.
And invited her to dinner.” My chest caved as I forced the rest out.
“That’s how she got in the house. And she brought the rebels in.
Because of me. Because of …us. She wanted to take me.
She knows about the ring. She knows I can find the ring, and she wants it for herself. ”
The moon-white color of his face looked like the life had been drained out of him. His hands trembled against mine, shadows flickering at the edges of his skin.
“Wolfe… I am sorry.” I couldn’t tell if he was shocked, furious, or shattered by the news of Zyrra. Or by me. Maybe all of it. “Wolfe.”
“Elariya,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “It can’t be.”
“It is. She—”
“My sister is dead.”
The words gutted me, stealing my breath, stealing my strength, stealing my senses.
“What?” My voice rasped out.
“Zyrra is …dead.”
Blood rushed from my head, leaving me dizzy and sick. “But—”
The word was strangled in my throat. Across the clearing, Zyrra stood whole and watching. My stomach plummeted, and chills raced across my skin. She looked exactly as she had not an hour ago. Perfect and vibrant, like the air itself was holding her in place.
“Look, Wolfe.” I pointed with a shaking hand.
He turned, and his body went rigid.
“Zyrra,” Wolfe muttered, hope rising in his voice.
He moved away from me, rushing toward her fast and desperate.
She stood there watching him with an emotionless expression on her face. Then she smiled that devious, devilish smile.
“Zyrra!” Wolfe called out to her.
She didn’t answer. She only smiled wider, then vanished before he could reach her.
“Zyrra!” Wolfe shouted, running to where she’d stood. “Zyrra, come back. Come back to me.”
The anguish in his voice broke me.
I went to him, my legs trembling, my mind swirling with confusion and sadness.
Wolfe called for Zyrra again, searching the air.
I wasn’t that far from him when he turned to face me. A tear rolled down his cheek, then the skeletal features from earlier returned, covering his entire face and body until all I could see was a mass of shadow and bones. He looked like death’s harbinger. Or death itself.
“Wolfe!” Instead of being afraid, I ran toward him, trying to close the distance between us.
I never reached him. With a wave of his hand, the world ripped apart. The forest vanished, and I was in a barren garden with leafless trees.
Before me stood a battered-looking Bastian, blood streaking his cheeks, his eyes brimming with sorrow.
“Bastian, where’s Wolfe?” I choked.
He caught me as I staggered. “He said I should take care of you now.”