36.

  Faelwen

  The moment my soul slammed back into my body, the world lurched. Magic dragged at my bones like a tide refusing to release its grip. Heat bled from my skin and exhaustion wrapped around me like a wet cloth.

  I forced myself inward. One by one I shut the windows that let magic pass through me, dimming the flow until the pull weakened. The relief was fleeting like catching a single breath before being pushed under water again.

  When I opened my eyes, I found the same hollow weariness carved into the faces around me. The other magi trembled even more than I did as they clung to the last threads of power. Sweat ran down temples and hands shook.

  The Runestones of Creation pulsed with power in the circle within the pentagon.

  You can all let go now. I’ll take it from here.

  Artemis’s voice resounded through our minds. My gaze snapped to his silhouette in the middle. A figure of white light swallowed by spiralling currents of power. He stood at the centre of the storm, alone and unflinching.

  One by one, the magi closed their channels just like me. Doors locked and windows sealed followed by silence in our mind.

  What are you going to do, buddy? I asked as I shut the last door inside myself, sealing away the buzzing power of the Weave.

  I’m going to move the Weave away from the Underworld… and destroy the ley-lines to the Mid Realm. Without them, the Underworld will hopefully starve and fade. He answered, lifting his staff, no longer the wolf who’d guided me through my life. Only the powerful ancient god I just met. Would Spook and Ash be just as surprised as I was?

  A sudden realization came to me. Ash.

  Wait! What about the souls bound to the Underworld?

  Artemis turned to me, just enough for our eyes to meet through the whirlwind.

  Don’t worry, little one. They will be reborn.

  A breath shuddered out of me. Ash… and me. We wouldn’t be dragged back to the Fiend. We wouldn’t be chained and doomed to fade with the Underworld.

  A familiar buzzing swelled the air. The same resonant hum I remembered from the birth of the Runestones who created the realms. The stones rose from the ground, glowing so brightly their edges blurred. They began to orbit Artemis, fast and faster, until they were a blinding halo of white fire.

  Sparks ripped through the air.

  “What’s happening?!” One of the Necromancers shouted over the roar.

  “I don’t know, but it looks like it’s going to explode! Find cover!” The other shouted back.

  My eyes grew wide and we scattered. I sprinted toward the exit, heart hammering and lungs burning. The elven sorcerers dove behind the shrine.

  Just as I reached the threshold, a shockwave slammed into me like a thunderbolt. I slammed on my chest. All the air was pressed from my lungs. Heat tore across my back and I braced for agony.

  But instead, a soft prickling kissed my shoulders, like warm water over a cold skin.

  The buzzing stopped. My ears rang as I lifted my head.

  Artemis stood in the centre of the ruined chamber, his chest rising and falling hard. In one hand he held a single stone. White veined with glowing runic patterns that intertwined into a single sigil.

  “The Runestone of Balance,” he said, voice echoing strangely in the quiet. “I fused the power of the Runestones of Creation and moved the Weave from beneath the Mid Realm to above it. And the ley-lines… they’re gone. Severed from this realm. The Underworld will slowly wither over time.”

  The Necromancers staggered upright, robes dusty, eyes wide with disbelief.

  “How long?” Asked one of the elven sorcerers as he crept out from behind the shrine.

  “Years,” Artemis answered. “Perhaps generations.”

  “That still leaves the Underworld filth outside,” One Necromancer intervened. “They’re destroying the Mid Realm as we speak.”

  Artemis gave him a small, unsettling smile.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not finished.”

  Then he turned to me and my heart skipped a beat.

  “Wen,” he murmured, extending his free hand. The other held his staff and the newborn Runestone of Balance in the size of a pebble. “May I?”

  My breath trembled, but I placed my hand in his. Trusting that whatever was going to happen, he would protect me.

  ? ? ?

  Ash

  This was it. The last dance between me and the monster who’d shaped every scar beneath my skin.

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  The drake’s roar split the sky, vibrating through my ribs. A cold rush of adrenaline flooded my veins, washing every doubt to the back of my mind. I rolled my shoulders and inhaled sharply, trying to steady my frantic beating heart. I didn’t believe I could defeat him alone – not truly – but I could stall him long enough for Artemis, Faelwen and the other magi to finish whatever fate-shaping spell they were weaving inside the temple. A colourful bright light engulfed the temple, lighting up the dark sky. I shielded my eyes from the brightness until it dimmed.

  And if I died… then at least I’d die as something more than his puppet.

  I reached for the first spell etched into my memory. Dark red mist burst around me in a slow, curling bloom, cloaking my form in shifting shadows.

  The drake slammed down in front of the temple with a bone-rattling thud. It’s claws created trenches into the earth. Its scaly head screeched against the crimson fog as it thrashed and tried to dispel it.

  Beneath its vast wing, a silhouette rose from the darkness. He slowly walked towards the Temple of Herdus, smoke swallowing his outline. Every step a reminder of how powerful he was.

  The Fiend.

  I flicked my wrist and crimson tendrils rose like living serpents, weaving a barrier across the entrance. He stopped and hissed. Annoyed.

  “You think you can stop me, boy?” His voice curled like hot iron in my ear, knowing exactly whose magic he tasted.

  “I’m fairly confident I can delay you.” I forced steel into the words. He chuckled. A deep, rotting sound.

  “You and I both know I could end you with a flick of my finger.”

  “Try me.”

  The tendrils lashed forward. Only to slice through smoke as he dissolved, reappearing several paces away with a smug grin.

  “Pathetic,” he sneered.

  I was already shaping my next spell when…

  A shadow flew by to my right.

  Spook.

  He launched himself at the Fiend, blade flashing dangerously close to the creature’s throat. But he was too slow. Much too slow. The fool.

  The Fiend twisted aside with inhuman grace, a blade of pure darkness flickering into existence in his hand. The strike was a blur. Too quick to follow. Spook choked on his breath as the shadow blade tore across his side, cutting through cloth and flesh. A shallow wound, but still a dangerous one.

  “Spook! You fool!” I shouted, panic cracking my voice. I didn’t have time to run to him.

  The drake lunged.

  Teeth like a wall of razors closed around where I’d stood a heartbeat before. I dove sideways, rolling across splintered stone and mud, breath burning in my chest.

  Another heartbeat.

  Hands clamped around me from behind and hauled me upward. I glimpsed the black shimmer of a shadow blade at my ribs and instinct took over.

  I slammed my elbow as hard as my weight allowed. It connected with a satisfying crack.

  The Fiend doubled over, losing his grip. The blade vanished like smoke in the wind.

  I spun, drawing on years of training. My magic surged. The dark incantations of a spell rose unbidden to my tongue. Necrotic energy pricked my skin. I raised my hand.

  The Fiend shot upward, clutching at his throat as though an invisible fist strangled him. His obsidian eyes locked onto mine. Hatred burned in them. His lips curled back, revealing those sharp pointed teeth.

  He spread his hands and an invisible force slammed into my chest.

  I flew backward, hitting the ground hard. The air fled my lungs in a single brutal gasp.

  “Ash! Get up!” Spook’s voice cut through the ringing. I rolled, the drake’s tail obliterating the ground where my head had been.

  “Get help!” I shouted, staggering upright.

  A black blur rushed towards me. I pivoted, the Fiend’s shadow slicing empty air where my body had been.

  Breathing fast, I conjured twin daggers from my own shadows and charged.

  We fell into that familiar death dance. Strike, dodge, vanish, reappear. Our blades clashed multiple times, steel against steel, sparks flying as both of us attacked with a series of well-timed strikes.

  His eyes narrowed a fraction right before he dissolved into smoke, leaving me confused for a moment. Movement caught my eye and I turned blocking his next attack.

  The air filled with the sound of our blades clashing and the mutters of our spells. Spell after spell hissed from his tongue as I felt his magic trying to penetrate my shield. Mind-breaking curses wrapped in velvet malice. But the barrier I’d forged burned hot and steady in my mind.

  He couldn’t break me.

  Not anymore.

  But my strength was consuming itself. Each spell siphoned more of what little I had. My daggers felt heavier. My breaths shorter and my hands trembled.

  He didn’t tire at all.

  It was just a matter of time before I ran out of strength and he gained control again.

  Cold fear licked at the back of my mind.

  Can I truly kill him? He’s the Fiend. The nightmare who outlived every challenger. The devil who turned me into a weapon meant to break myself.

  Insecurity gnawed at me, while I maintained the deathly dance with my knives, without causing any damage.

  “Getting tired, boy?” he taunted noticing my exhaustion. I gritted my teeth, my knuckles turned white as I clenched my fists.

  Behind me, the drake shrieked as Ethilorians swarmed it. Spears sinking into its soft underbelly. Spook was there, thank the hells. He clung to its head, stabbing relentlessly.

  Good.

  At least I didn’t have to face both monsters. I needed a single breath. I needed…

  A plan.

  An idea came to mind. A reckless idea, but still an idea.

  “Are you?” I shot back. “Fighting your own student who knows every trick you’ve got must be exhausting. You aren’t so surprising anymore.”

  His expression cracked. Darkened.

  A soft growl rumbled from him. He bit the insult like I knew he would, dissolving into smoke and appearing behind me.

  I spun, slashing. He dodged by a hair, but my dagger still struck.

  “You’re getting slow, old devil,” I grinned, twisting the knife deeper.

  He grunted and lifted his hand. About to unleash the invisible force again. But this time I was ready.

  A crimson tendril coiled around my waist and yanked me sideways into the air. Just when he unleashed his power.

  Black blood dripped from the wound I’d created in his side. Renewed energy found me again seeing him wounded.

  I hovered for a fraction of a heartbeat before I hurled both shadow daggers.

  He twisted aside from the first. The second drove deep into his shoulder.

  He growled angrily, but seemed unfazed by it. With a flick of his fingers my dagger disappeared. I stopped concentrating on my previous spell, let the mist fade and the tendrils disappear. I dropped to the ground. Mud splashing around my knees. My hand slapped to the earth. Taking a deep breath I pushed my remaining strength into this spell.

  I spoke the draconic words through gritted teeth. The ground rippled.

  Everything withing sixty feet decayed in a wave as though time exhaled rot.

  Grass between the mud shrivelled to dust. Mud turned grey. The air thickened into poison. A bird overhead plummeted, lifeless, landing before the Fiend.

  He staggered. Dropped to one knee. Coughing violently as the spell devoured the air in his lungs.

  His face drained to grey. His black eyes glazed and his body quivered. Then he collapsed forward.

  Just as the last embers of my magic guttured out.

  I dropped with him, knees sinking into cold muck. My body trembled uncontrollably as the adrenaline ebbed. My limbs felt hollow, half-dead.

  The drake’s dying roar tore through the air, snapping my attention back.

  No time to rest. Not yet.

  I forced myself up, swaying slightly. Before I could intervene, the drake collapsed. Spears jutting from its belly, Spook jumping down from its bloody skull.

  Bodies carpeted the mud. Drake-scorched Ethilorians and Underworld spawn.

  Spook stumbled toward me, panting, covered in blood that was not all his. His grin stretched wide despite the limp.

  “You saw that?!” he burst out, grabbing my shoulders, shaking me lightly.

  “We did it,” I breathed, a hoarse laugh caught in my throat.

  Suddenly—

  Agony exploded through my abdomen.

  White, hot and paralyzing pain.

  Spook’s face drained of colour.

  A familiar voice purred behind me.

  “Got you, boy.”

  The Fiend.