Chapter 27 #3
The great clock face itself cracked down the middle with a thunderous groan before succumbing to gravity and falling…falling…crashing down against the rocky, desert floor.
The king dropped the hand that conjured a shield of shadows to protect him and Chez from all the flying debris.
The cat had arrived with the elevator—well, it was broken again now. His purple eyes were wide as ever as he stared at the burning stump of a tower whose upper floors cracked wide open that the light rain was falling through the gaps. “What in the fresh tides is going on over here?”
The king barely acknowledged him. The suffocating grip of the otherworldly energies had dissipated altogether, and he could breathe again. The midnight mystical tide had gone on to wash over the rest of the vast desert without further incident.
Chez took one look at the mangled platform. The bright, swirling light was gone, but the tear in reality had been so severe that its traces were only beginning to ebb away. “Is that…?” He whistled. “So, Allie finally went home, huh?”
His fists clenched, the king stared at the dissipating maelstrom. A faint vision of towering lights and tall structures in a sprawling city, such as he’d never seen before.
Such a different world.
Allie’s world.
She was finally home.
His heart was torn between happiness for her and an aching chasm of pain in his chest.
What was left on Wünder for him?
The land was finally clear of traitors. The ghost dilemma had been resolved. Was he meant for more now that he had successfully avenged his family?
He had no equal in magic across the land of Wünder. Nobody who would dare defy or test his authority. He could conjure everything he ever wanted. Everything he ever needed.
Protecting Allie had been the only thing that gave his life meaning. She had been the only challenge in his life, his only purpose.
The king squinted at something glinting on the floor and walked over to pick it up. He held it up to the faint light. It was a necklace with a tarnished, ornate gear talisman. It certainly wasn’t anything created of Wünder. The General must have dropped it in the struggle earlier.
Chez mewled. He stepped over the chaotic mess on the dampening floor as raindrops pattered down. “Wow, look at this place. It’s absolutely destroyed.” He noted the despondent look on the king’s face. “Are you okay? Going back to your castle soon?”
Standing frozen, the king lifted his gaze once again.
“Hey,” Chez chided. “I’m bummed she left too.
But this wasn’t her world. And it’s not like you could have gone with her.
” Almost absently, he nudged at a wooden table fragment on the floor.
“I mean, if you went through one of those maelstroms again, you’ll probably lose all your powers.
” He shrugged. “Then again, Allie’s world has no magic anyway—not like ours, at least. You’d probably fit right—”
The king’s grip tightened around the talisman in his hand before he dove headfirst into the fading wake of the maelstrom.
Chez yowled in his startle as the king’s figure disappeared completely through the flickering light. “Son of a—”
The remnants of the mystical doorway finally fizzled into nothingness, disappearing without a trace. The ruined compartment of the clock tower darkened.
Before Chez could even blink, a melodious voice called out, “Hellooo! Anyone there?”
Giving a brisk shake of his head to snap to attention, Chez waded through the fragments on the floor to find a broken part of the Duchess’s gilded mirror in one corner.
The Duchess’s face pressed against the broken pane of glass. She coughed as though suffocated by the dust herself. “Oh, Fluffy, is everyone okay?”
“Yes, my lady. Allie has gone home and…” Chez broke into a grin. “Well, Rabb went after her.”
Her blonde curls bouncing, the Duchess huffed her reply, “Well, I had already foreseen that.”
“Of course you did, my lady.” Chez bowed his head. “I daresay it’s going to be an interesting future for Wünder. Oh, my…”
Flakes of snow were starting to drift from the gray sky, settling upon the scattered wreckage in delicate white layers, softening the jagged edges of shattered beams, twisted brass gears, and broken glass, being gently blanketed by winter.
Chez looked up in stunned marvel. “It appears to be…snowing.”
“What? In the desert?” the Duchess asked, her tone pitching higher in her shock.
“Huh.” Chez clicked his tongue. “Do you reckon that with the powerful tyrant king of shadows gone, this means the mystic land has deigned to adopt the essence of the Kingdom of Lucerne?”
“Well deserved, I would say,” the Duchess acceded.
Chez peered up at the rare, wayward rays of sunlight managing to streak past the thick clouds. “I think Allie and Rabb would agree. Wherever they are. I’m sure they are going to live happily ever—you know.”
Thank you so much for reading “Fated to the Wicked King”!