Montague’s heart was beating hard. This wasn’t how he wanted to die—to fail at the most important mission. The Nekrums wouldn’t stop torturing this world until they found the Volpi gene. Planet Naan’s fate rested within his blood. He was about to accept defeat when he closed his eyes and visualized a wishful attack. How wonderful it would be, he thought, if a burst of energy just launched from the wand. He remembered that Burton would always say her when referring to Vandagelle as if she were alive. So he spoke directly to Vandagelle. His heart fluttered as the words were caught in his throat. Vandagelle, I know I am not worthy of you. But I am the one holding you. And if there is anything left, any hope at all in the human race, it is now that I need you to hear me. Montague felt a power, unlike anything he’d ever felt before, surge within him. He felt like a hundred men. “Unleash!” he roared. Suddenly, Vandagelle flashed and shot a bolt of lightning. It burned through the entire crowd of the incoming enemy. Even the dirt beneath their feet was charred.
The Ikarus soldier nodded, relieved. He attended back to Burton, taking his arm while Montague led them forward.
Indrid and Simon had slain the hybrid wolf clan and rejoined them.
Ahead, Demitri, the host, waited patiently outside the perimeter of the savage violence. He watched with amusement and ate a plum as he waited. As few men reached him, the monster he rode upon split them with its crustacean claws on his command and bit men to pieces. Its husky yowl spooked the Resistance’s horses. Its stinger stabbed and flung men through the air like pieces of lint.
Rayne descended from the sky, joining the ground battle.
Montague took notice to his dark cloak. It wasn’t woven of ordinary fabric. It moved like it had a mind of its own, grabbing mages and slamming them into the ground. He looked majestic. It was only in Rayne’s presence that Montague felt safe. Burton was barely mobile.
In an attempt to finish the massive blow the young wizard and the trolls had created, the men of the Resistance stormed past Montague, who was kept safely with Rayne, tucked between the angel’s wings along with a weakened Burton.
The count of Grale and Sir Simon led the march. There was an exchange of looks between Indrid and Rayne. In their eyes, Montague could see that they made peace; Indrid apologized, and Rayne accepted.
Demitri shouted to the rest of his clan to attack the wizards and the rest of the Resistance. All hybrids, mages, dead elders, spiders, and ghords targeted the incoming metal. More and more swarms of gargoyles flew out from the dark ship now toppling over into the sand.
Rayne manifested a long staff with five intertwining circles at its tip. He looked to Simon and Indrid, “Keep them safe.” With a field of energy surrounding him, he lunged ahead. He crashed through the enemy’s frontline, clearing a path to Demitri. Then the angel ascended into the sky once again.
Montague’s path lay before him. But what would he do when he reached Demitri?
Demitri chortled at them as Montague, a wounded Burton, Simon, Indrid, and others approached. Burton limped in front of the warriors that were guarding him.
“I told you that one day I would impress you, Burton.” Demitri, the Nekrum’s host, said. His eyes blackened. “How about now? Does this meet your standards?” he chuckled.
“This is disgusting. My friend, Demitri, would never do this,” said Burton.
“Oh but it is in fact a dark desire of Demitri’s,” the host smiled. “Yes! You see, he helped us create all of our lovely family of weapons, willingly.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Burton said. “I know he fought you every step of the way. He is still fighting.”
Simon and Indrid kept the surrounding mages and elders at bay, Apollo by their side. Maul had stormed off into battle.
Although Montague carried Vandagelle, the most powerful weapon he’d ever seen, he still didn’t feel safe. Rayne was in the sky, and he knew that Burton couldn’t protect him. But there his sensei was, a man—an angel—who’d lived five hundred years, standing in front of him, guarding him until his dying breath.
“Goodbye, Burton Lang,” said Demitri.
The monster lunged. As Montague pushed Burton aside, Vandagelle lit up. A bright beam extended out from her tip and down from her base, creating a staff of light. To Demitri’s shock, Montague hacked at the beast’s skulking arms and quickly brought it to the ground. But at the end of its plated dermis, the tail, still thrashing, whipped around from behind. The stinger pierced Burton in the stomach. He instantly fell to the ground.
“Sensei!” Montague shouted. The light of Vandagelle receded. He ran to Burton’s side.
A long shadow grew in front of him. The stinger rose up for another strike. This time it pointed at Montague. It sprang fast.
Midair, the monster’s tail suddenly became lax. Rayne had slammed his staff straight through its head after swooping down from above. Streams of lightning coursed through its spliced body.
Montague tended Burton’s wound.
Demitri stood. He no longer had a giant beast to defend him. But his confidence remained unwavering. The Nekrums didn’t care about Demitri’s life. They knew that the marble would just go to someone else to take up the host’s role and do its duty.
“Now, how may I say this politely?” he said to Rayne. “If you don’t run, far, far away, right now, I will slaughter you and trap your soul. And I’ll use it to create a weapon so powerful…well,” he laughed. “It would be just as powerful as Burton’s wand. Go. Take your woman and live peacefully. We’ll leave if you hand us the gene.”
A cloud of green energy swirled around the top circle of the king’s staff. “No, Loche. You won’t leave; not until the rest of humanity suffers.”
It was the second time Montague had ever heard that name: Loche, the Nekrum mastermind. After
