The Rising King (5 page)

“Then there’s no choice. We’ll just have to do something to even the odds.”

“We could create an illusion. Make us look like them.”

Kera shakes her head. “As soon as they figure it out, the illusion will break.”

“Then why does it work with them?”

“Suspension of disbelief carries our magic. The Rodarians don’t need that. Their success hinges on their deception, and they’ve perfected it.”

“Almost.” Wyatt waves over one of the Seven Sisters from the shadows of a nearby alley. The siren is gorgeous, with dark hair and big blue eyes. It’s when I look at her eyes I see a hesitance. The way the sisters act, as if they’re invincible, it never crossed my mind they ever got scared.

He holds out his hand and when she takes it, he tucks her close. With his other hand, he gently smooths her hair away from her face. This must be the girl. Neve. The one he loves. I’ve never seen him act so…so
normal
around a girl. “What you told me about the Rodarians, is it true?”

She nods. “They cannot duplicate my sisters or me.”

“But will your sisters help?”

“If I ask. Yes.” He pulls her close and gives her a big kiss. She presses her palm to his cheek and smiles. “I shall be right back.”

Reece shows up with his little tagalong. “They’re starting to ram the walls. The stone is thick, but I think they’re trying to make a hole to put in explosives. It’s what I’d do.”

“They have explosives? Are you sure?” I ask.

“No, but are you willing to take that chance?”

A fresh wave of arrows rains down on us. Again, I incinerate as many as I can, but it’s still not enough. Too many are getting hurt. One whistles through the air and hits Reece. He falls to his knees and Halim immediately starts yelling for help. Reece tells him to shut it, and yanks the arrow from his leg, then snaps the shaft in half. “Damn it! This is the third one I’ve tried to dodge, but they always seem to know where I am.”

Wyatt takes the broken arrow from him, tosses it, and helps his brother to his feet. No way did I hear Reece correctly. “You’ve been hit three times?” He doesn’t even look fazed.

“More or less.” A tiny wince shows when he presses near the newest spot. “See? Barely bleeding. Didn’t go deep.”

The arrows must have some sort of magic attached to them and that’s how they’re finding targets, like Reece with his quick reflexes, and other targets that should be impossible to hit, like my dad. They’re taking out the strongest of us. The slow burn I’ve been holding in my gut all day boils over. “That’s it.”

I push away from my friends, ignoring their calls to come back. Anger hums deep within me. I make my way to the gate, leaving hot, darkened footprints in my wake, and stand right in front of the soldiers hitting the air like three drummers pounding on one big drum. One by one, they stop and stare back.

“Having fun trying to crack that?” I sneer.

One of them bares his teeth and smashes the air with the butt of his sword. The sound ripples loud and deep. His red eyes stare into mine. I don’t scare easily. I lean forward. “I like to crack things open, too.”

I unexpectedly squat and touch the ground. Whenever I use magic when I’m this mad, it’s a risk. I hold it close to me, channel it, and the ground suddenly splits. Elongates.

The crack runs under the barrier and out beyond the city walls. I can see exactly who I want gone. It’s the Rodarian commander, free from the vines that nearly choked the life from him earlier. He’s sitting calmly on his horse, like a king without a care.

The red-eyed soldier who was happily slamming his weapon against the invisible gate takes off running. He’s fast. Really fast. His comrades jump out of the way of my magic as it races by, leaving room for him to keep pace. The Rodarian commander turns toward the man. The crack is a yard away and closing fast. Suddenly, the Rodarian launches himself at his commander. I’ve never seen a tackle like that. Super Bowl–worthy. The soldier pushes the commander off just as the horse’s back legs fall into the chasm. The horse scrambles and jumps free. If not for the quickness of the Rodarian soldier, the commander would have fallen. Instead, they both roll to a stop a few feet away…safe. The soldier springs to his feet and glares at me, his red eyes glowing hatefully. I stare back. The feeling is mutual.

I slam the crack closed, catching the hand of one of the soldiers near the gate trying to dig under the barrier. I stand, spit on the ground, and eject his hand in a cloud of dirt to his face.

Kera pulls me away like I’m a naughty child, her hand riding my back as she brings me back to the group.

The Seven Sisters arrive. All that amazing beauty in one place is a little overwhelming. Even Halim stares openmouthed at them. Only Wyatt seems immune. “It’s simple,” he says. “We go out there and damage as many of them as we can so they rethink why they’re here.”

The women look among themselves, and a tall brunette nods. “This will be the last favor we owe Teag.”

“Deal.” He says without hesitating.

Neve bites her lip and turns away, shrugging off the hand of her closest sister.

When Wyatt comes near, I ask, “What’s she talking about? Why do they think they owe us any favors?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t really care right now. Do you?” Wyatt turns to his brother and holds his hand out for the
incordium
blade. “Since you’ve gotten yourself hurt again, do you mind? I think I’d like to try it out.”

“I’m not like you, little brother. I get a tiny scratch like this and I can still fight.”

“Save it for later, will you?”

Reece unbuckles the sword and gives it to his brother. “Don’t make me come out there and save your ass.”

“When has that actually ever happened?” Wyatt straps the sword on.

I have to step in. “You’re not really going out there, are you?”

“I am.”

“But they can duplicate us. How will anyone know it’s you and not one of them?”

He takes his blade and cuts a small
X
into his left palm. “There.” He shows his palm to the sisters and the other men he’s chosen. Each of the men mark their left palms the same way. “Let’s just hope they don’t catch on.”

I cut an
X
in my palm. “I hope not.”

“You’re the prince.” Wyatt’s eyebrows peak in the middle, giving his face a doubtful slant. “Do you really think your dad is going to let you go out there?”

“What he doesn’t know…”

Kera holds up her hand. “We will defeat them.”

My stomach sinks when I see a red
X
oozing against her palm. “Wait, you’re not—”

Kera places a finger on my lips. “We have had this talk before. Where you go, I go. Always and forever. Plus, I’m a better fighter than you.”

“She is,” Wyatt says as he swings the
incordium
blade his brother gave him, testing it out.

I shoot a hard look at him. “Did I ask you?”

“Just accept it and let’s make them sorry they ever picked a fight with us, okay?”

Everyone is eyeing me. They all know what Kera is capable of doing. I know what she’s capable of doing. Even Wyatt is allowing the woman he loves to fight by his side, and Kera is twice the fighter Neve is. So why is this so hard for me?

I clasp Kera’s hand. “Stay by me.”

“If possible.”

My whole body tenses, and I want to yell, but I release a heavy sigh instead. “Don’t do that. Just say yes.”

“Yes.” She pops to her tiptoes and places a sweet kiss on my lips. I want to hold her close and never let her go, but she pulls away before I can stop her.

She doesn’t mean it. I can tell. Why does she have to constantly put herself in danger? She’s so frustratingly stubborn. Can’t she behave like other girls?

What am I thinking? I don’t want her to be like other girls. I love her because she’s Kera. She’s one of a kind. The last person I should be worried about is her. She has more power than anyone. I squeeze her hand and when she looks at me, I mouth “I love you” and watch her eyes melt into mine.

We start toward the Water Gate and Leo appears out of the crowd, Lucinda close beside him. “What’s up?” he asks as he drops into step.

“We’re going out. I need you to stay with Reece and make sure none of the Rodarians get through.”

Leo sweeps his hand through his thick hair, but it stubbornly drops back into place. He tilts his head and eyes me through the strands like an old sheepdog. “You’re protecting me, aren’t you?”

I could lie, but I don’t. “Yeah, I am. It’s bad enough Wyatt’s going out there. I can’t risk you, Leo. Don’t ask me to.”

He grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop, then hugs me. “Yeah. I love you too, man.” Letting go, he blinks rapidly, his head bobbing like a dashboard Chihuahua on a bumpy road. “Be safe.”

Lucinda looks at him as if he’s an oddity she still hasn’t figured out. “So emotional.”

Kera steps close and gives Leo a kiss on the cheek. “I promise to keep Dylan safe.”

He sniffles a bit and lets Lucinda guide him away.

The sun has dropped lower, lengthening the shadows and coloring the tops of the trees golden. I can make out the enemy thanks to the flames from the iron balls. If they try to move them, they break open and the flaming pitch inside oozes over the ground, creating a bigger problem. It only takes them a few times to figure that out.

At our approach, a dozen more Rodarians crowd the gateway. In unison, they stomp the ground and grunt, accelerating their rhythmic beat.

It’s crazy how they all look alike. “Clones?” I ask Wyatt.

The show of strength doesn’t seem to bother him. “It’s just weird, and I don’t like weird stuff.”

“You’re in the wrong place then.”

“I know, huh? It’s been seriously awesome.” He slants a glance my way. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I shake my head and smile. I’ll never understand the guy. “Let’s do it.”

Neither of us knows for sure if we can move through the barrier, but I’m fairly certain we can. Wyatt raises his arm, his hand a fist, his muscles tense. We draw our weapons. The Rodarians become more agitated. Aggressive. One of them jumps out of line as if he’s going to break through. It’s the perfect moment to test our theory. My flaming sword slips through the barrier and sinks into the soldier. I quickly yank it back and he drops to the ground. No cry of pain. No look of horror. He just dies in a puff of dust.

I wasn’t expecting that. I turn to Kera. “Did you know about that?”

“That I didn’t know.” Her eyes are big and round. “How is it possible?”

Wyatt snaps his gaping mouth closed and his jaw develops a sudden tick. “Seriously. Why are things always so weird here?”

A loud battle cry sounds from one of the Seven Sisters, and they rush forward, jumping through the barrier and into the fight.

“Women.” Wyatt drops his arm and the rest of us surge forward.

Chaos in the Dark

Kera did her best to stay close to Dylan. As is wont to happen during the chaos around battles, they became separated. When next she looked up, he was in front of her, sword in hand. She hadn’t noticed until now how long his hair had grown. He had a fine stubble on his cheeks and he’d gotten broader in his shoulders.

If she hadn’t been watching for it, she wouldn’t have noticed, but she knew the opportunity to play false was the Rodarians’ greatest defense. Dylan slowly approached her, his sword like any other. No fire. Not even a spark. Dylan’s sword always burned in a fight. Kera whipped her bow onto her back and pulled out her sword. Just to make sure, she ran at him, zigged to the left and then twisted back and slammed her sword hilt into his temple, dazing him for a second. She grabbed his left hand. No mark. When she delivered the death blow, the man disintegrated into ash.

Killing Dylan, no matter how fake he had been, shook her. She couldn’t ignore the thud of her heart and how her hands shook. Fighting her way to the edge of the clearing used all her concentration. She took refuge in the dark and studied the battlefield and the never-ending flood of Rodarians. The Seven Sisters gleefully exterminated one after the other, their beauty even more pronounced with each kill. She looked for Dylan. He was quick and strong and held a terrifying amount of power. Unlike most of her magic that came from Navar and Baun, very little of Dylan’s was temporary.

Fire exploded toward the right edge of the field. It was there she saw Dylan, standing in the thick of it. The ground sizzled with each step he took. He incinerated every soldier who came in contact with him, leaving behind a precise trail of destruction. A small spark of jealousy ignited as she watched him, because unlike her, as his magic had grown, so had his control. Seeing him at his worst scared the Rodarians and caused panic in their ranks. Closer to her, Wyatt hacked away at a group of Rodarians, his men close at hand, compensating for his human limitations.

Even seeing their successes, Kera knew they would soon grow tired, even the most able of them. She could feel her power scrubbing insistently at her skin. It was wild and big and wanted to be free. To free it held a danger she was afraid to use. She was no Dylan. Watching him now made that crystal clear. The struggle to keep her magic in check challenged her in ways she never expected. But she always gave in. For weeks now she had dabbled and experimented. Though her confidence had grown, she feared it was a false confidence. The voice inside her sprang to life, insisting if she used what was in her, she could stop their enemy’s advance.

She bit her lip and frowned. This was a defining moment, more real than she wanted to experience.

She looked to the battlefield and saw one after another of their enemy morphing into someone she and her allies were meant to trust. It made them all hesitate. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t wipe clean the memory of the man who wore Dylan’s face as she killed him. She could never do that again. She sheathed her sword. It was time to find the hole the Rodarians were climbing out of and seal it shut.

Kera ran into the woods, pausing against the papery bark of a clump of trees as Rodarians intent on the battle ahead sped past. She swung into the trees, traveling from branch to branch, out of sight and out of reach.

The trees thinned as she arrived at the edge of a familiar clearing, and she hid in the cool shadows of the oncoming night. The Unknown, a place concealed by a cloaking spell beyond a ravine so wide and deep, none of the horrific creatures living there could escape, loomed behind the clearing. Yet Granel, his once-clean appearance now sullied, his back bowed with the weight of his evil work, stood at the helm of a swirling vortex of Rodarians, Dark Souls, and even darker magic.

Her grip on the branch she balanced on tightened. How had he made it out of the Unknown? The sharp points along the bark dug into her fingers. It didn’t really matter. She’d found the answer to the unrelenting onslaught of Rodarians, but how could she end Granel’s magic if she didn’t understand the basic concept?

Always one to use his talents in ways that twisted nature, Granel had found a way to reproduce an unlimited supply of Rodarians. Their singular appearance and hive mentality made it easy. For every one Rodarian, Granel created dozens more, entities to kill and be killed.

The Dark Souls darted in and out of the vortex like dark threads binding magic to skin and bones. Without the Dark Souls, the process would fail. So maybe she didn’t have to understand it…just interrupt it.

She called forth the dark magic she kept locked deep within her, and snapped off nearby tree branches, suspending them within the boughs. With only a thought, they zipped forward, piercing the chests of the Rodarians and creating a cloud of dust with their death that choked Granel from view. The Dark Souls stopped spinning. Granel staggered from the haze, coughing and covered in a film of dirt. Spying her in the trees, he pointed and yelled for her death. The Dark Souls gathered close and spun into a tight twist of darkness and shot toward her like a deadly arrow.

She darted to the right, avoiding the blow just in time. The dark mass smashed the tree she had been in, splintering the wood from top to root until there was nothing left but kindling. She jumped from tree to tree, moving deeper into the woods. A sudden whip of pain lanced her shoulder. Beneath her torn shirt a dark, ragged wound appeared. She hadn’t moved fast enough. The Dark Soul twisted back. She crouched on a limb, raised her
incordium
blade, and used its magic to rip the Dark Soul from top to bottom. The inky blackness slipped to the ground.

Dark magic surged deep within her, and the feel of it made her smile. She used what was around her, hardening the grass until it glistened like emeralds in the moonlight. With a flick of her wrist, the slim blades broke free and sliced through the undulating darkness, breaking the Dark Souls off, one by one. She destroyed many and sent the rest scurrying back to Granel like hurt dogs.

In the end, one remained. It chased Kera even farther into the woods, dodging her efforts to send it back to Granel. Moving fast, she quickly found herself in unfamiliar surroundings. She paused and looked around. What she saw nearly broke her heart. Their enemy had marched through the land, cleaving a ragged scar through the once beautiful woods. She could hear its mournful sighs and groans as it struggled to repair itself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the last Dark Soul materialize. The whisper of evilness as it took shape shook the leaves in the trees, curling their edges brown. The form of a man became clear, and it walked into full view—sure of its unnatural power and proud of its death.

It was Navar. His likeness was complete, even down to his beautiful smile that hid a wealth of ugliness. Black suited him. The poison of his undulating spirit dripped to the ground and charred the grass into withering clumps.

Kera stared speechless.

“Enjoying your new power?” His voice sounded moist, spoken in gruff tones, yet gone too quickly. He moved in a hypnotic motion, like slick ink and wispy smoke combined.

Though he was a spirit, he still unnerved her. And though his death had caused his powers to transfer to her and Dylan, he had clearly gained another form just as terrifying and hypnotic. Kera forced herself to look away. As Navar’s spirit progressed, she made sure to keep a healthy distance. “I have barely begun to use it. Why bother with something that is only temporary?”

“Temporary? No. I think not. My power is now yours.”

He was right. “But the rest is not mine. I only keep it safe until it can be returned to its rightful owner.” She’d never spoken a truer statement, though it disturbed her to say it.

“Really? You play free and loose with all you harbor. Exactly what part
isn’t
yours?” Navar’s black form inched closer to her. “There are no secrets the living can keep from the dead.”

He spoke as if he could distinguish his magic from Baun’s, that he knew she allowed the magic to mingle more and more. The distinction between good and bad had blurred a few times, but she had always been able to recover. She bit her tongue and forgot about trying to keep him at a distance. Her whole mind chewed on the idea of siphoning more of Baun’s magic, just to bolster the areas where she was weakest. Surely Baun wouldn’t miss such a tiny portion.

Navar’s knowing laugh slipped along the air to twine around her ears. “The thought of giving up even a portion will pass.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” But she did. Just a little.

“Don’t you?” He drew closer. A crackle of energy surged between them. The power she’d stolen from him recognized the form he’d become. He stilled and held out his hand to touch her for a moment.

She jerked away. That power was no longer his. It was hers. It rose within her and itched along her skin. She rubbed her arms, soothing the agitation he caused, and glared at him.

He laughed. “That strange pull. The thrill. Be honest. You feel it. You want it. Forever and always. Adding Baun’s magic to mine, well, that is the power from which dreams are made into reality.”

Her jaw hurt from the pressure to keep her mouth shut. She shook her head, clinging to her denial, and backed up.

“But let us say you can keep them apart. It doesn’t matter. My magic burns within you. It harbors a deep love of darkness. You can try to manipulate it, but you will fail. You can try to hide it, but it will make itself known.”

With every word he spoke, she shivered. “You make it sound like it controls me.”

“It does. It fascinates you, tempts you. Mix mine with Baun’s…well, that kind of power can change everything. You can do anything.
Anything
. And you will…just to feel the power move. It’s glorious, isn’t it?”

“I am not like you.” The wound at her shoulder and the one under her leather bracelet where she’d been attacked by the Dark Souls when she’d first encountered them throbbed as if punishing her for denying Navar’s accusations.

“Yes, you are. You are exactly like me. I can see into your soul, Kera. I can see your secrets. Your greed for more.” The dark face leaned close and the oily whisper purred, “Darkness becomes you.”

One moment she stood openmouthed, the next her
incordium
blade was in her hand. She dove at Navar’s black form and sliced his neck open before jagging the blade from his lying throat to his rotting belly. She jumped back, her breath ragged and heavy, and watched the massive wound ooze ink and smoke until he dissolved in a pool of muck, burning the ground where he once stood.

The air within her lungs stalled. Her heart thudded impossibly hard and her throat ached with the need to scream he was lying. She couldn’t.

He knew her secret. He knew she fought an avalanche of longing that twisted her perception of what was right. The only thing that kept her anger and selfish wants in check was her love for Dylan. He was all that mattered.

As soon as she thought of Dylan, her heart calmed and she could breathe again.

Navar was wrong. She could control the power, something Jason hadn’t been able to do. His soulless nature had something to prove. Her goal was to find justice for her people. Bring back peace. She was good, her motives pure, and if that meant mixing the magic that was in her, she would do it, and then force the bad portion back into the deep recesses where it would stay until she called on it again.

But it was getting harder to keep the magic separate. Dylan had noticed. He’d felt her struggle. If Baun continued to make positive strides, then all too soon she would be giving him back his power.

She ignored the pang of panic that rippled in her. His magic was hers for only a short time longer. She would give it back, she promised herself, and be thankful to be rid of it.