Chapter 58
Chapter fifty-eight
Esmeray
Adara lunged towards me, my body moving out of instinct.
I waned, but my magic was burning out quick.
I only managed to make it fifty feet to her left.
Breaking into a sprint, I aimed for the tree line I could make out in the distance.
This clearing would be my end unless I darted into the taiga, where she couldn’t fit in Sentry form.
Under the cover of the dense trees, I could get a reprieve from her attacks to formulate a new plan.
I heard her bellow in frustration, breaking out into a thundering gallop after me, her long strides shrinking the distance between us much too quickly.
I wouldn’t make it to the tree line. With a split-second to decide, I snapped open my wings, the icy wind bolstering my flight towards a rocky outcropping off the mountain instead.
Aiming wildly, I threw a hand behind me, flinging as much magic that I dared muster towards her.
She easily deflected as I slid the last fifteen feet to the crevice, landing and rolling, my wing clipping a sharp edge of rock as I dove into the meager cover.
Blinding pain shot from wing tip to fingertip, but I clawed and wriggled my way deeper into the narrow space between two slabs of stone, a heartbeat before talons longer than my arm smashed into the hard shelf above me.
Debris rained down, sharp shards peppering my already injured wings with fresh cuts as I covered my head. Pushing down any thoughts of my mortality, I rallied all my remaining fae magic. If I had enough for one last attack, I would make it fucking count.
For my mate, for my friends, for my Kingdom. I would take the shot.
For retribution, for revenge, for the hurt and anger I felt over the last year, I would enjoy it.
Grabbing Goldriel, I centralized my power to the still intact rock in front of me.
If I blasted the wall outward and hit Adara, it would bring this entire outcropping down on her.
The staff in my hands trembled as I drained all my remaining magic into it.
I couldn’t wane, couldn’t even make a fucking illusion of a teacup right now.
I’d never been this deep into my power, and knowing that I was tapped out after this, bolstered me enough to drain everything I had into Goldriel, the golden moonstone nestled at the tip glowing brilliantly–as if it knew.
With one shot left, I aimed to kill.
The moment I felt my magic quiver, the sign I was almost out of power, I slashed Goldriel across my chest, directly at the wall of stone separating me from Adara.
Gold light exploded outwards, slamming into the rock just as Adara leapt, trying to use her considerable weight to collapse the small nook I found to bury me under the mountain’s unforgiving mass.
My magic burrowed into the cracks forming above me from Adara’s barrage.
I held Goldriel steady, pouring more and more golden power into the slab of mountain.
Sweat and blood trickled down my brow, freezing almost immediately, a scream tearing from my throat as I continued dredging up every drop of my acat, forcing it to bend to my will, focusing on those rocks.
New cracks spiderwebbed out, groaning under the assault of Adara slamming her body into it on one side, and the wobbling stream of magic, still holding and swelling, at its underbelly.
The alcove began trembling, and I gritted my teeth until I tasted blood. I felt the shift in the earth at last and slammed that final, feeble strand of magic into the epicenter of those glorious cracks, right as Adara’s talons raked through the surface, a hair’s breath from my face.
With a deafening explosion, splintered shards of mountain crashed directly into Adara’s open maw.
Gold light flared outwards, blasting Adara backwards as she howled in pain, hitting one of the few pillars that still stood from the temple of a Witch Queen long dead.
The pillar rocked and swayed before toppling over, crushing Adara beneath its weight.
I ducked my head as rock rained down all around me, destroying the face of the alcove and opening it to the elements.
My entire body shook as I managed to limp the few feet and peer out. Warm blood ran in rivulets down my neck and chest, my acat so depleted even healing was not happening anytime soon.
I made it out of the rubble before collapsing into the searingly cold snow.
Numb.
Every inch of me felt numb, shrill ringing in my ears scrambling any coherent thought. I tried to shut it out, pressing an icy hand against my sensitive ear. Wincing at the pain and sensation, I pulled it away, only to see blood covering my palm from a burst eardrum.
I could barely move. That last bit of magic drained me of everything.
My head spun. Blood from a cut on my forehead dripped into my eye, clouding my vision before I wiped it away, surveying the aftermath.
Almost the entire temple was now reduced to nothing more than haphazard piles of slate.
Adara lay, still in Sentry form, half buried under rock, the wing that had already been mangled now snapped completely, hanging limp at her side.
I tried and failed to get to my feet. Using Goldriel as a crutch, I managed to stand, the staff supporting most of my weight.
I staggered away from my twin. She had been knocked unconscious and if Sparrow was here, I knew she could force Adara to shift back.
It wasn’t magic I had, but I knew from experience Sparrow did.
And now that Adara was out cold, it would be easier for Sparrow’s complex magic to take the time it needed to shift her.
I managed to half drag myself towards the tree line as I touched the black onyx on my ring. The screeching in my ears thudded in beat with my heart, drowning out every other sound except my ragged breathing, the cold air burning my lungs.
“Keerian,” Gods even the voice in my mind was barely above a whisper. “She’s unconscious, I need Sparrow to come shift her back. I’m above–”
The pain hit me before I realized what happened. Adara lashed her tail out, striking me full force. My staff flew out of my hand as I smashed into a thick tree trunk.
“Seems your luck has run out,” Adara mused, stalking towards me.
Blood covered her white hide, but she was alert, her teeth flashing into a savage grin as she took in my rapidly deteriorating condition.
I collapsed on my side, wings trapped under me.
My horns protected my head from the full brunt of the impact, but other than that, I felt very broken.
“How…” I asked weakly, my entire body screaming in pain. Feeling my end was near, I looked up to the beautiful full moon, blinking blood out of my vision, desperate to see it clearly one last time.
The crushing realization hit me that I was going to die.
I took a deep breath, staring up at that moon, at Carra, my mind on Keerian.
His striking green eyes, his quick wit and sharp laughter.
“When all seems lost, and the darkness closes in, illuminate your own path.” He had told me that once, under a blanket of stars atop a waterfall in Florra.
I asked him, “But what if no one follows?” And Keerian had feathered kisses down my horns before replying, “Lead anyway.”
I used to joke, in those early days of our soul tie, asking him if he actually, truly, loved me–almost disbelieving that this incredible, kind, supportive male was my mate. He’d laugh and assure me, “I love you–horns and all.” The moon blurred as tears threatened. He was going to die.
“I learned another trick from you, and since you are only a few seconds from death, I’ll humor you.
” Adara picked up a paw and swiped at the air between us, a rip opening in space to display a thick, black and gold book on a short, opal pedestal, the air itself splitting and crinkling back, the edges burning quicksilver.
“Your staff is never far from you, so I decided to take a lesson out of your book–” Adara murmured proudly, the power-hungry lust on her face slackening her jaw as she gazed upon the spell book, “–to always keep mine close.”
An unearthly hum filled my bones as I laid eyes on the actual book for the very first time.
And even with my blurred vision, even with my magic burnt up in my blood, an ancient whisper slipped down my exposed skin, curling gently and invisible, around my throat, brushing over my wings, threading through the curls of my horns.
Strange magic–warm and inviting, cold and detached, limitless and finite thrummed in the air.
The breath wooshed out of my lungs as Adara’s shimmering rip in space taunted me, the spell book its captive inside.
My mind quieted.
And I realized how I could defeat my sister after all.
I closed my eyes, wanting Adara to think the defeat was devouring me whole. Adara had the spell book with her the entire time. Hidden away in the same manner I used to store my staff. Her own pocket in space. She had mirrored my magic to always keep her book of spells close.
But now I knew why I'd never seen the book in person, why the spells I'd seen were written on parchment. Adara did not want anyone finding out that it wasn’t the spells written in the book that gave her more power–but the book itself.
Because the book contained its own well of magic.
I let out a dry chuckle, the sound escaping through my split lip. “I should have known,” I sniffed, a few tears tracking down my cheek as I directed my sharpening vision to the white beast before me. “You were never very original. Always had to imitate me.”
“Fuck you,” Adara spat, as she took the bait.
She lunged and I rolled, her talons slamming into the snow where my chest had been a split second before. I threw my body towards that rip in space, desperately flinging my hand out–
My fingers closed around the spine of the ancient book.
Even the wind on the mountain seemed to pause.