Battle of the Kinfolk. #5
I joined her, reciting the incantation as thick rain clouds tumbled ominously above the sea.
In a blink, the waves turned choppy. Elizebeth moved to my side, resting her palm on my shoulder as she joined in the chant.
I heard Fitzroy incanting in unison before he grasped one of my hands and raised the other toward the sky.
I felt my pain stream into him, bolstering his strength.
The spell spun spiraling waterspouts from the sea, merging with the tumultuous clouds as bolts of lightning split the landscape and thunder shook the shores.
Regina propelled her arm forward, her spell slicing through the rain. I ducked as searing heat rushed past my face, narrowly missing me.
My heart thudded as a sharp scream rang out from behind me.
Peering over my shoulder, I saw that Margaret’s arm had been blown off.
She clutched the blood-spurting wound before collapsing onto the sands.
The warmth of Elizebeth’s hand vanished as she began conjuring a healing spell, desperate to stop Margaret from slipping away.
Despite the commotion, Fitzroy continued launching rain spells at Regina, whose dragon grew ever more agitated by the thrashing deluge.
Then, Regina unleashed another hex in my direction—and I wasn’t quick enough to evade it. Its force sent me hurtling backward as I crashed onto the sands, sodden grains clinging to my hair. Scrambling to my feet and bracing for another blow, I noticed something overhead distracting Regina.
I looked up to see another dragon—a dark red beast with glinting golden reins and saddle.
“My father,” Fitzroy said, shock clear in his voice. “The King.”
Finn gasped. “How will he explain this to his subjects?”
Fitzroy’s face hardened. “If I get my way, he won’t have the chance.”
An earsplitting roar trembled the land as the gigantic beasts clashed in midair.
Regina’s dragon plunged its claws into the King’s dragon’s belly—the creature let out a ground-shaking shriek as the talons tore away scales and left bloody gashes.
Regina drew back on the reins, creating a short distance before swooping in to attack again.
The whirling winds tangled the dragons together as their jagged teeth ripped human-sized chunks of flesh from each other in a battle to the death.
Regina clutched both reins in one hand, casting spells at her brother with the other, while the King struggled to defend himself against his mightier sister.
Regina was winning, yet I knew she couldn’t prevail. In desperation, I recalled the incantation Regina had once used when threatening to scorch the kingdom to ash.
“Sunne byrnan hatra ponna a wyrmes blaest, byrnan eall belowan oppaet paer pa nawiht ac deap.” Sun burn hotter than a dragon’s breath, burn all below till there is nothing but death, I screamed, feeling heat rising to my face as I pushed my lungs to their limit.
Fitzroy stood beside me, placing a fortifying hand on my shoulder as he added his voice to my chant.
Around us, the witches gathered—Margaret raising her only functional arm, steadied on either side by Jane and Emma.
Finn and Elizebeth joined in, reinforcing our incantation, and soon more wizards assembled—first a few, then nearly a hundred—feeding on our shared power in a bid to vanquish the royal siblings.
In an instant, I felt the sun’s heat prickling my skin.
The sea began to bubble, and the selkies wailed as they were boiled alive.
A resounding clang echoed as metal-clad knights collapsed in the heat, their armor sizzling upon the scorching sands.
Fearing I was about to annihilate everyone, I slowly lowered my hands.
“Don’t you dare cease,” Fitzroy snapped, panting as he battled the searing heat.
I raised my palms once more, knowing I couldn’t relent until Regina lay dead or the entire Kingdom of Lyonesse lay ablaze.
Through the glaring light, I saw the white dragon falter—its scales crisping like autumn leaves under the beating sun.
It floundered in midair, shrieking as though engulfed in flames.
Just when I thought it would plummet, the beast lunged forward, locking its jaw around the red dragon’s neck.
Together, they crashed into the sea. Enormous waves surged from the impact, rolling onto the shore and engulfing nearby ships.
The white dragon’s motionless wings floated atop the water, its once taut skin now mangled and useless like torn sails on a ship.
I lowered my hands, and the sun’s heat swiftly cooled.
A profound silence fell.
Soldiers, knights, fae, and goblins alike—regardless of allegiance—waited in tense anticipation to learn whether the royal siblings had perished. The stillness of the water spoke louder than words.
As Regina’s allies retreated to the sea, frantically fleeing to the Isle, I began to believe the Silver Witch was dead.
“She’s gone!” Billy cried, his voice a raw blend of anguish and joy.
“Thank the gods,” Emma cried out from behind me.
Tears streaming down my face, I stole a glance over my shoulder and met her gaze.
Emma stared at me with childlike fear, as though expecting my anger.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed. “I had no choice.”
For a moment, I held her terrified gaze, wondering why she was apologizing to me—was she truly saddened by my loss?
She spoke as if she’d played a role, yet she’d no part in his death…
Then it struck me all at once: Emma had seen a vision of Bash’s fate.
“You knew,” I screeched, slamming my palms into her chest so fiercely she stumbled. “You foresaw this!”
She shook her head, tears flying from her bloodshot eyes. “I-I-I…” she stammered.
“Is that why you offered us your chamber?” I pressed, recalling our night together—how Bash invited me to the Headlands, confessed his love for the first time, and made me feel happier than I ever had.
I doubled over, choking as sadness nearly drowned me.
“You knew it was our final night together,” I managed to utter through my tears.
“What was I supposed to do?” Emma pleaded, clawing at her plait like it was rope and she was dangling over a cliff’s edge.
“You could’ve warned him! Told him to not board that ship.”
Emma shook her head, squirming in her skin.
“I-if Bash hadn’t died, Regina would’ve w-won,” she stuttered. “His death gave you the strength to cast a spell stronger than Regina’s—”
I refused to listen further, silencing her with a swift unsheathing of my sword, wanting an eye for an eye.
Dog appeared beside me and growled at Emma, baring her teeth at the terrified witch. The fear on her youthful face revealed what she tried to hide—how young she truly was.
Fitzroy grabbed my arm, his gauntlet cutting into my skin.
“That’s enough,” he said firmly. “She betrayed you, but she saved Lyonesse. You may hate her, but I won’t allow you to hurt her. It might feel justified right now—but it’ll stain your conscience.”
I collapsed into his arms, weeping and wilting like a willow.
“Niamh,” he whispered into my ear. “Be brave—you agreed to be brave. Remember?”
Over Fitzroy’s shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Finn’s agonized face. My pain hurt him, too, for he understood it all too well.
Fitzroy gently pried me from his embrace, meeting my tearful gaze. In his steady eyes, I sensed an unwavering faith in my resilience.
Despite the tears rolling down my cheeks, I managed a small, affirming nod.
“Dragon!” a soldier yelled, pointing to a shifting red mass rising from the waves.
The red dragon clawed its way skyward, King James still clinging desperately to its back.
Grievously injured—the creature’s remaining wing snapped as it squawked in agony—it swooped inland, plummeting toward the shore.
Men in its path bolted for their lives as it crashed into the sands with such force, I wondered if the tremor reached the distant Wetlands.
The King’s cloak billowed behind him as he tumbled from the dragon’s back. With a labored groan, he thudded onto the sands, his gleaming crown toppling from his wrinkled head. It was hard to watch his withered hands flush purple in a futile bid to stand; defeated, he slumped onto his knees.