28. Aniah #2
“No matter,” King Raul sneered as he hungrily eyed the orb, now emptied, but rapidly refilling. “The Council held up their end. Unless this can only be used once,” he said through gritted teeth at the Witches.
“Patience, King, it will refill,” one of the council members, Breena, responded. Her red gaze scoured over him hungrily, making a grimace cross his face at her apparent lust. “Dark magic takes time to regenerate, sire.” She ran a cracked fingernail up his boot.
“It does me no good in conquering lands if I have to wait for it to refill,” he snapped, jerking his foot back.
“Once we get the Gargoyle female, you won’t have to wait. You’ll have unlimited access to power,”Breena purred.
What Gargoyle female? Though my body shook, I stood, drawing on my own raw power as rage filled me. The same rage I’d felt when my mother had died, and my village had burned to nothing. I worked my hands—
Laverna turned her shriveled sneer upon me, the fire in her eyes bright as she pointed her gnarled finger in my direction. A wicked smile grew.
“Hello, dear,” she crowed. In an instant, I felt my cloaking spell melt as invisible ropes bound me, pulling me to her.
All four of them cut their gazes to me. The King and his generals looked with disdain.
“How typical,” Laverna, the oldest of the council, spat. “To find you here, using a pitiful fire spell on the catapults when you hold the knowledge of the eternal flame.”
“Yes,” Nerissa, the youngest of the four, with her fiery red hair and wrinkle-free ebony skin, hissed.
“What a waste it was to pass along our knowledge to the likes of you.” With only my arms bound by invisible bindings, I retreated a step as they moved toward me in unison, their black dresses and robes trailing in their wake like shadows.
“Nothing like your sisters,” droned Ondine, the cruelest of them.
She narrowed her beady eyes at me, making her features sharpen.
Her soul was blackened from the number of curses she’d cast in her centuries.
Ondine’s skin was shrouded in so much ink, it was a wonder any of her withered skin showed beneath.
“They all have done marvelous works for the greater good. Cressida’s work was especially exquisite.
Creatures that feel nothing. Think nothing.
Nearly impossible to kill—perfection,” she cackled, stepping away from the others.
Breathing became difficult as the weight of what they said settled heavily on me.
“Yesss.” Nerissa pushed past Laverna. “And Samara created the—”
Thunder cracked across the sky, drawing all our gaze to the bloody battle, where ominous, dark clouds formed from nowhere. They rolled in furiously, as if nature itself was angry at the injustice being done—bolts of lightning struck through the hordes of skurs, incinerating them on the spot.
Ondine paid no mind to the oncoming storm, nor the seething King as he cried out about his army being destroyed, and began to circle me. Taunting me.
“You had so much potential. You could have been great,” Laverna sneered. “We’ve put your memory curse to great use. Even had Cressida fine-tune it to target specific memories, since you became too pious for curses.”
My gaze flicked to the King, his hateful eyes burning through me.
Ondine laughed bitterly. “Oh, we needed no such spells to gain his help in eradicating such a low race as the Gargoyles. He was only too happy to help, for the price of gaining magic for himself.”
“But why? Why do any of this?” I rasped.
“Because no other beings should hold any power as great as the Dark Master’s,” Laverna hissed from behind. “Ours was a gift from him.”
My brows furrowed. I’d never heard mention of a Dark Master. I shook my head.
“The Gargoyles have no powers!” Wind whipped around us violently.
Nerissa gestured to the ensuing storm. “Haven’t they?”
I blinked, looking in the distance at the calculated strikes. They’re only hitting the skurs. Nowhere near the Gargoyle warriors in the sky. Nor the civilians, who tried to escape the carnage.
“Restoring magic to the Gargoyle bloodlines was the Elementals’ last attempt at balancing the odds against us,” she scowled.
“The Elementals… You think the Elementals did this—” My eyes widened. “You killed the Elementals...”
“Yes, you foolish girl! We slaughtered them. Rid ourselves of their pious presence! Just like we will them.” Breena pointed to the battle.
“The Gargoyles. We will be in control of the realms as the Dark Master’s priestesses.
Not serving beneath beings,” Breena spat the word out, her nose wrinkling in disgust. Lightning struck near the piles of ash that the catapults had been.
We all startled, the King and his generals’ horses neighing nervously as they backed away.
“If this is a snippet of the power I am to gain, I’ll gladly wait.” Malevolence was an understatement. The King’s face twisted, lust lighting in his eyes with every bolt that struck.
Another BOOM of thunder had the lines of Fae warriors running from where they waited to attack once the skurs had done their job.
But the lightning struck true, incinerating a section.
The King’s horse reared its front legs, causing him to drop that cursed orb.
His generals stared, eyes wide at the gaping hole where part of their army had stood, and retreated.
The four Witches in front of me stumbled as the ground shook, Laverna falling on her backside as another bolt struck the Fae army gathered ahead.
As she fell, the binding spell disintegrated from my arms.
I lunged—slipping past Laverna, twisting around Ondine—and snatched the orb off the ground. Immediately, I wanted to drop it. Throw it—anything to get the roiling dark magic within, out of my hands. Instead, I gritted my teeth, knuckles white as I held it, and evaporated into black smoke.
I couldn’t travel far with the orb. As if the entity within wanted to return to those who would wield it for their evil purposes. The eastern shore was the furthest I could go, opposite the Fae’s armada. Still, that magic pulled and tugged, trying to return to the King.
I dropped it in the sand, raking my hands through my hair as I looked back at the raging storm, the night sky lighting up with thunderclaps.
Malachai drifted into my mind—whether he was hurt, or worse. But I couldn’t allow those thoughts in. Not while I had the Orb. I had to get away. It needed to be destroyed.
Raw power churned as I pulled every ounce of my magic to the surface. With my hands out toward the thing—the tainted magic replenished already—I screamed as I released every bit of myself into it.
Nothing.
As my power drained, the orb lay in the sand, unmarred. A strangled cry tore from my throat as I rallied more power, but shrieking from down the shoreline reached me.
Skurs.
I couldn’t shadowtravel again. Nor waste power on the bloodthirsty monstrosities before me. Calling for help would only call attention to the orb. Time was against me with the Fae King and Coven Council just on the far side of the island. It wouldn’t take them long to find me.