Chapter Seventeen #2
When Frey returned with Taro limping behind her, he appeared alive and well as far as I could see.
Frey took one look at Torsten and began chanting, yet it didn’t seem to matter.
Nothing helped. While I appreciated her trying, I screamed for her to stop because judging by how she staggered, she was only hurting herself.
All the while, I could sense Torsten weakening, yet he pressed on, and my heart shattered as I waited for Skarde to strike the fatal blow, because even if we reached Torsten, deep in my heart I knew this wasn’t going to go how he had wanted it to.
There was no way to end Skarde without Torsten forfeiting his life.
Both sides of him.
“Please stop, Torsten,” I wailed into his mind, feeling like we were caught in our nightmare all over again. “Don’t do it!”
This wasn’t how my crowned dragon myth was supposed to end.
I was certain of it. Yet an end was coming, and I felt like a part of my soul was being ripped apart.
When Torsten fell to a knee, still managing to block Skarde’s blade, and grabbed Skarde’s other wrist, slowing him down as well, I knew the time had come.
My heart plummeted when Skarde dropped to a knee as well, and his darkness swamped them both.
Desperate to get through, I pounded at the barrier, roaring in defiance when Drakkar grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back from the maelstrom of darkness.
I couldn’t blame him, either. He was only doing what he’d been asked to do and keeping his promise to Torsten to protect our child and me, if it were the last thing he did.
“They are battling internally now,” áma warned, her eyes hazed over with her own mysticism as she watched them, seeing what I could only feel, and it was horrifying.
Heartwrenching. It felt like Torsten’s entire being, every last inch of his vitality and soul, was drowning in blackness, sinking into a destructive quicksand that would take him away from me forever.
“The crown is fading on Skarde’s head,” Drakkar said, still not letting me go. “As is the tattoo on Torsten’s neck.”
“What does that mean?” Frey gripped her blade tightly, ready to race to Torsten’s aid.
áma shook her head. “I could not say other than...”
She trailed off and staggered back a few steps, guarded like everyone else, when a loud roar, like a wounded dragon, boomed around us before the darkness shot upward, swirling around everyone, then seeming to sink and fade into the ground beneath us.
“Torsten,” I cried, struggling free of Drakkar’s grip and racing to him when both he and Skarde fell back as if stunned.
“I’ve got you,” I said, falling to my knees so Torsten’s head landed in my lap. “It’s alright,” I soothed, terrified by his fixed eyes. “I’m right here, mate.”
Meanwhile, though sluggish, Skarde at least seemed aware of his surroundings as several swords were aimed his way.
Looking confused, he shook his head and blinked rapidly as if trying to see straight before tossing aside his blade and holding up his hands.
“Please do not. I surrender...” He kept blinking, looking from Torsten to everyone else. “To whatever this is, I surrender.”
“Whatever this is?” I exclaimed, ready to whip a dagger straight into his throat. “You nearly killed my mate.” I trembled in rage, looking at Torsten, who barely breathed, back to him, not feeling my mate in my mind anymore. “He may not make it because of you!”
“Who are you?” áma asked Skarde, resting a supportive hand on my shoulder to still me, because I was moments away from losing it and doing something we might all regret. “Why are you here?”
“I am Skarde, brother to King Haldor.” He eyed the weapons aimed at him, his demeanor entirely different now. “And I have no idea how I got here.”
Drakkar narrowed his eyes and growled. “You lie.”
“I do not,” Skarde countered, what seemed like genuine worry furrowing his brow when he looked from Torsten to me.
“I am sorry about your mate.” He glanced from his weapons to his hands.
“I don’t understand what’s happening here....
” He shook his head and murmured, “You said we fought. I did not want to, did I? I think I tried not to.” He frowned at me. “When did this happen?”
“Just now, fool,” Frey cut back, her eyes blazing with her inner beast as she fell to her knees beside Torsten and me, worried about her brother. “Here, now, and you’ve nearly killed him.”
“Yet he hasn’t.” áma crouched beside Torsten as well. “He’s still in there somewhere.”
“He is,” Skarde said, sounding certain as he gazed more closely at Torsten. “I know he is because I saw him there...wherever there was. ‘Twas like a dream....”
“What was the last thing you remember?” áma wondered, clearly believing him. “What was the last thing you were doing?”
“Embracing my brother in his great lodge,” he replied, clear-eyed and sure of it. “I traveled there to warn him that there were rumors of trouble brewing.”
“What sort of rumors?” Drakkar asked, his weapon still trained on Skarde.
“About the Realm,” he replied bluntly. “’Twas said there was a dragon nearby who meant to cause great trouble among our kingdoms. I wanted to make sure Haldor did not act rashly until we understood more. That ‘twas best to summon their Liege and speak with him first.”
“Which did happen, only before you arrived,” áma said. “And no one talked about not being rash with Blaze. He was told you wanted to infiltrate and ruin his Realm from the inside out.”
“No.” Skarde shook his head. “My brother has only ever wanted peace betwixt all and to help assimilate dragonkind into humanity.”
“Yet he usurped the throne from one of our own,” Drakkar reminded. “That does not sound like the actions of someone who wants peace.”
“You say usurped,” Skarde replied, careful with his words given how vulnerable he was, “but if I recall, ‘twas the people who wanted a change. The kingdoms and their people gave him his position.” He shook his head. “My brother cannot be faulted for that. Come to his kingdom, all of you, and spend time with him. You will see I’m right and that he only has good intentions.”
“Your brother is dead,” áma said, shaking her head when Drakkar thought to elaborate on how that happened, telling me she believed Skarde wasn't putting on an act. “I’m sorry to tell you, but he is.” She gestured at Skarde. “You are now proxy king.”
“Surely not,” he exclaimed, seeming truly surprised and upset by that, taking a moment to gather himself. “I have no recollection of any of it.” His gaze returned to Torsten. “I only remember him, albeit vaguely.”
“Which means,” áma replied softly, seeming to sense something, “that you are likely his lifeline right now.”
“But he just tried to kill my brother,” Frey exclaimed, scowling.
I was about to agree when I felt Torsten brush my mind for the first time, as if nudging me to listen. To pay attention.
“He’s in there,” I whispered hoarsely, looking from áma and Frey back to Torsten. “I just felt him.” I swallowed hard, fearful yet growing more certain by the moment that I wasn’t imagining his urgency. “I think áma might be right.”
“What does that mean?” Frey said, her mouth slanting down as if she sensed she wasn’t going to like what I said, no more than I liked saying it.