Like the Dawn (Lark #3) (20 page)

              “Nooo!” I feel someone try to pry me away. I blindly fight them off as I try to reach my father but I can see it's no use. He's gone. I collapse into a pair of waiting arms. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize it's Grey who is pulling me away.
              Tears are streaming uncontrollably down my face, making everything blurry and distorted. It makes it seem less real. I wish it wasn't real. I wish with all my heart and soul that this was just a horrible, earthshattering, realistic nightmare.
              The sound of Isobel wailing is too real to be a dream, however, and it yanks me back into reality.
              Grey is still tugging me back away from where my father's body lies. I pull away from him, collapsing to my knees. I can't breathe and my whole body is shaking violently.
              The sight of my father lying there...dead...in a ring of ash and soot causes me to retch until my throat burns, yet I still can't stop. Every inch of me aches with a loss so excruciating I would gladly welcome death to make it go away.
              One thought flashes through my mind repeatedly, overtaking any other thought or emotion.
              My fault.
              This is all my fault.
             

Chapter Twenty-Eight

             
I
know I'm in shock. I know that people are talking to me—Grey is holding my arms and trying to tell me something but I can't hear him. I can't hear anything at all except the whooshing sound of blood rushing through my veins and pounding in my head.
              I break free from his grasp and push my way through the besieged crowd and out into the open. The adrenaline and hate coursing its way through my veins gives me the strength to push forward. The whole room is a frenzied panic of  battling elves but I remain focused despite the mayhem.
              The ashy white skin and dark hair of the Dökkálfar make them easily distinguishable amongst the Ljósálfar, but the humans fighting alongside them are harder to detect. If not for their blank stares and the weapons they wield, it would have been impossible to tell the difference in the chaos unfolding in front of me.
              Despite being in their formal attire, the Light Elves aren't holding back but it seems to be doing them no good. Even without the advantage of the elements, the Dark Elves seem to be invincible.
              Something, or someone, hits me from behind nearly knocking me to the ground and leaving a sharp stinging sensation on my back. I turn to face my attacker only to discover it's Hannah. She's armed with a whip of some sort. Her focus is on me but it's like she doesn't really see me at the same time.
              “Hannah!” I try to get her attention but it's no use. Whatever sort of enchantment Dugan has cast upon her is too strong for her to recognize me as anything more than her enemy. She comes at me again, but this time she is intercepted by Hugo. I never knew what his specialty was, but from the way Hannah's face is turning blue from lack of oxygen my guess is Air.
              “Hugo! Stop!” I scream at him.
              “What? Why?”
              “Because she's my friend!”
              “She's with them, though?!” He seems so confused and rightly so.
              “I'll explain later. Just don't hurt her,” I beg him. “But don't let her hurt anyone else.”
              “What do you suggest?” I'm sure he thinks I'm completely crazy but, for what it's worth, he just goes with it.
              “Tie her up! I don't know! Just think of something!” I call over my shoulder as I continue to search for Dugan.
              Outside the windows the sky is black as the shadow continues to creep across the moon's bright surface. The Light Elves are showing signs of weakness—they are quickly growing tired from the fighting but the Dark Elves seem to be completely unaffected by the exertion. If anything, their stamina seems to be growing stronger the darker it gets while my people continue to weaken. I realize that I need to act fast if I'm going to end this—if we are to stand any chance of defeating the Dark Elves. I know that the Light Elves can't keep this up for much longer. The weaker they become—I stop the thought before I finish it.  I can't even let myself consider that. I have to find Dugan.
              I'm not sure what to do first. I know I need to find Dugan but I have no idea where he is and it’s hard to distinguish a single face among all the fighting happening around me. I want to help them all, and it goes against my every instinct not to, but I know that the best thing I can do for them is to stop the evil at its source.
              My foot catches on something solid beneath me but I’m able to steady myself before I fall.
              “Oh!” I gasp. It's Freya. She's sprawled out on the floor unnaturally, her eyes wide and lifeless. Sweet Freya—so fragile and small—she didn't stand a chance.
              The anger intensifies and surges within me. I find a discarded sword and snatch it up, gripping the hilt purposefully in my hand.  I turn to scan the hall once again for my target and my eyes zero in on him immediately.              
              He's not even trying to hide from me. In fact, I’m pretty sure he's taunting me as he sits arrogantly upon the throne that belongs to my father, casually surveying the room as though it is filled with court jesters that exist purely for his own entertainment.
              Suddenly, dark shadows begin to rise up from the ground, emerging in gray monochromatic humanoid shapes. One of them manifests directly in front of me and it's a familiar face that I'm especially thankful to see right now.
              “Herdis!” I exclaim. I definitely wasn't expecting to see the Queen of the Shadow Elves here. “What are you doing here?”
              “Helping you, of course.”
              “But you said you never got involved in the affairs of the Light and the Dark.”
              “Yes, well, that was before. You are Sól's chosen one. You were destined to break the curse, yes, but you were also destined to restore the peace—and that is something worth fighting for.”
              “Thank you.”
              “Besides, my people are eager to have Svartálfaheimr free of the Dökkálfar once more.”
              “I'm glad you're here. Just leave Dugan to me.”
              I start toward Dugan but Finnegan appears out of nowhere, blocking my path. “Ah, little princess, so we meet again.”
              “You did this didn't you?” I accuse.
              “Did what?” he mocks innocently.
              “You figured out the way to bring them all here. How could you do that? This is your kingdom too. You're really going to let Dugan destroy it?”
              “This kingdom should have been Dugan’s to begin with. He was the rightful heir.”
              “Yeah, but the guy is evil incarnate. Who would ever choose him over Alberico?”
              “I did and look what happened,” he affirms, gesturing around the hall where the Ljósálfar are battling for their lives. “Isn't it glorious?”
              “You're a psycho.”
              “And you're a brat.” He swings the hilt of his sword against the side of my skull. It happens so quickly, it takes me a minute to process what happened.  In my confusion, I find myself wondering why he is even using a weapon when he, unlike the Dökkálfar, possesses elemental magic.
             
I'm knocked off balance by the blow and even though the resulting dizziness prevents me from standing, I'm able to find the strength to summon a ball of light in the palm of my hands. Before I can hurl it straight into Finnegan’s chest and obliterate him, Isobel gets to him first.
              A clap of thunder booms above us. I look up at the ceiling to find a swirling mass of dark clouds forming. Lightning strikes at the same moment that rain begins pouring down.
              Finnegan looks at Isobel and claps slowly. “Bravo, my dear, bravo. I see you are still all show and no action.” He sneers.
              Isobel raises her hands in the air, sparing Finnegan one last look. “I really loved you, you know. But looking back now, I realize I should have known what a lying, scheming piece of scum you truly are.”
              With that, Isobel strikes with such a force the ceiling of the castle is blown wide opening up to the dark sky. Finnegan must have really been convinced that she wouldn't actually do anything because his eyes widen in surprise as he starts gagging and it's then that I realize the storm was just a show—Isobel needed to distract him.  She is drowning him from the inside and he is choking on the water that is infiltrating his lungs.
              And here I thought the elemental magic wouldn't be of any use—Isobel's display demonstrates otherwise.
              “Go, Mia,” she calls over her shoulder. “End this.”
              I nod as I try again to stand up. It takes me only a second to get my bearings. I step over the fallen bodies of both Light Elves and Dark Elves, even some humans, and it makes me sick to my stomach with guilt and anger.
              I see Grey battling two different Dark Elves and a human about twenty-five feet ahead of me. He's quicker than they are but he's outnumbered.                One of the Dark Elves hits Grey below the belt. He clutches his stomach as he lurches forward. The Dark Elf lifts his sword high above Grey to take a final blow.              
              “Nooo!” I scream, but before I can make my legs move something large, black, and feathery flies through the air knocking the Dark Elf in the head.
              “Don't you even think about it,” Klaus shouts triumphantly, and with a flourished wave of his hands the Dark Elf catches on fire. Klaus takes care of the other two immediate threats in the same way before helping Grey up.
              “Thank you,” Grey tells him sincerely.
              “Anytime.” Klaus winks and then turns back towards the oncoming threat.
              As I approach the throne that Dugan has stolen from my father, he stands as though greeting me.                “I was wondering how long it would take for you to seek vengeance,” he says, sneering down at me.
              “That throne does not belong to you.”
              “Well then, I hope you have a better plan to take it from me because from where I'm standing it doesn't look like you stand much of a chance.”
              Images of anguish flood my head as Dugan tries to attack my mental well-being—his favorite form of torture.
              It takes some concentration on my part but I finally manage to shove him out of my head.
              He guffaws. “I see you've learned a thing or two.”
              “You have no idea.”
              “Not that it matters—you're still no match for me.” With that he pulls his sword out of its scabbard. 
              I quickly try to conjure the light again, believing it's my best chance at defeating Dugan but my fight with Finnegan has left me weakened. The ball of light fizzles out in seconds.
              Dugan takes advantage. With the handle of his weapon, he lands an all-too-familiar blow to the side of my head and sends me flying across the floor.  It’s a powerful warning shot, but I refuse to give up. I try to stand but only manage to run a few feet before falling to my knees again as Dugan laughs mockingly. He approaches me slowly but confidently like he hasn't a care in the world.
              I hate him. I hate him with the very fiber of my being. I spot the gleam of a sword beneath one of the guard's bodies. Left with no other choice I pull it out from under the fallen elf. I stand shakily, but with solid resolve. I know that I stand no chance against his skill but what other option do I have? If I can't harness the powers of the sun, I have no choice but to rely on my limited abilities.
              I will not let my weakness stand in my way.
              I assume the defensive stance that Jacoby taught me and ready my own sword.  I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, but he's had hundreds of years to practice—I've had less than two weeks. To say I'm no match for his skill is a serious understatement.
              He swings once more, this time slicing my cheek from ear to mouth and I wince in pain but that doesn't stop me from turning and facing him again.
              “You will not defeat me. You might as well surrender now,” he roars. “The lunar eclipse is nearly complete. Your time is running out.”
              That seems like a really random thing to say. I can't help but look up at the sky to see the shadow almost completely covering the moon in darkness.               There is a reddish glow radiating from the orb in spiraling fractals. A swift movement catches my eye and I brace myself thinking that he's about to give me a matching scar on the other side of my face when Jacoby steps in front of me, blocking my view of Dugan.
              His back is to me and despite my attempts to step in front of him, he keeps his arms spread wide at his sides to block my futile attempts.
              “You won't touch her,” he declares.
              Dugan cackles. “What are you going to do to stop me?”
             
“What are you doing?”
I ask Jacoby using Mind-speak
.
             
“Do you trust me?”
              “Jacoby! Now is not the time!”
              “Do you trust me?
”
he asks out loud more seriously.
              “Of course I do. That's beside the—”
              “Good.” Jacoby suddenly turns his back to Dugan and drives the dagger I gave him right into my chest. I feel pressure in my sternum right before a glaring light bursts around us, blinding me.               Energy from the explosion radiates outward in every direction, forcibly knocking the air right out of my chest like I'm inside a wind tunnel.