“Unfortunate,” Demitri said. He held out the marble and summoned a series of glowing orange spheres that orbited his body, spouting flames. Motes of fire whirled around him like a tornado. “This is your last chance, boy. Do you really want to die for these people?”
“I’m not going to die. I’m going to live—for her. I’m going to have a life among these people and protect them from the very beings that you serve,” said Rayne.
Demitri held out his hands cupping the marble and unleashed the orbs, “I think not.”
Rayne pointed his staff, holding it with two hands. A green liquid light shot out from its circled tip, sizzling on impact with the fire orbs of Demitri’s negative energy. The two opposite charges of the wizard and the Nekrum’s host drove into each other where the point of convergence sparked. The exchanges of polarized energy illuminated the battlefield with holographic reflections.
Montague knew that to harness the elements was the greatest accomplishment in the realm of sorcery, and these two entities of such magnitude embodied the skill at its best. But witnessing Rayne harness the light of the heavens was like watching a miracle.
The glory of Rayne’s light was too stifling for the Nekrum’s host to handle. The wizard walked straight into Demitri without resistance. His green aura became brighter and brighter, hotter and hotter, until its hue paled into a brilliant, white light, blinding to all eyes that gazed upon it. Once he reached the host, there was a luminous explosion.
It was like the sun had suddenly risen. Every soldier and mage stopped and turned to the light. Even the last of the creeping beasts were stunned by the phenomenon.
Demitri was hurled from the blast. He looked badly injured.
“No!” Montague shouted, running to his friend.
The black marble sat in the palm of Demitri’s hand, the crucible of the host’s power. A dying flame that tried to fire from it faded. But he was alive and conscious.
“Give me the marble,” Montague said.
Demitri stayed still. He was breathing heavily. His hand closed into a fist, holding the marble within a thickset gauntlet.
Montague unsheathed his dagger. “I’m so sorry, my friend,” he said. With a single slash he cut off Demitri’s hand that gripped the marble. Once it fell, the small stone rolled right in front of him like it was seeking him. It shined, flaunting opulence. Before he picked it up, his life flashed before him. Born a farmer, he’d grown up seeding fields, feeding cattle, plowing the spring harvest. Then, in the midst of his life’s quest to protect a sacred family, he’d been promoted from an agricultural servant to the speaker of the new capital of Men at Ikarus, only to be shunned by the political game years after, falling once again to peasantry. But now, the next step of his life could be the last. He didn’t know what would happen when he let the marble consume him. What if neither Rayne nor Burton could help me when I become possessed? What if I become the Nekrum’s host indefinitely? Or, What if I die?
But there was no choice.
Montague confronted his worst fears and picked up the marble. According to his sensei it was the only way to defeat the Nekrums. Although Burton had lied to him about many things before, including his true identity, he believed that his teacher was truthful. Burton would die for him and do anything to protect him. The old wizard had sworn to him that he’d exhausted every other option.
The marble burned into Montague’s palm. His eyes rolled back. He became entranced, completely unaware of his surroundings. Like a worm burrowing into the dirt, he felt the Nekrum ghost slither through his veins and into his mind, analyzing his biological makeup. Then, he heard a gasp.
“It was you…all this time?” the murky voice asked. “A bastard?”
The entity, trying to control him, was stupefied at who and what it had discovered.
“I may be a bastard, but I’m a Volpi, descendent of Gabriel. And I am the carrier of which you seek,” said Montague.
The hour of Water’s Night had passed, and the light of two moons returned.
BURTON LANG woke with his face flat in the cold dirt. The old man’s heavy eyes were blurry and his cloak was covered in blood at the stomach where he’d been envenomed. A hungry hemotoxic swam through his blood. He knew it. As it became harder to breathe, he could feel it dissolving his insides. The pain was torture.
He slowly turned over to find Rayne standing above him. Burton’s mouth was full of grainy mud. But behind Rayne he saw Montague on the ground having a seizure. His apprentice had taken the marble. He was connected.
“Take me to him,” said Burton, his voice hoarse. “I need to go now before they extract the gene and annihilate the planet.” He tried to lift himself but failed. “You have to carry me.” He was still disoriented.
“No,” said Rayne. “I’m going.”
“My life is over here,” Burton said. He tried to get up, but he fell back.
“You’re not strong enough. We can’t take any chances. If we fail, the planet is doomed.”
“I’m so sorry, my friend,” Burton said. “I wanted nothing more than to see you and Anna live out a full life together here on Naan.”
“Don’t be,” Rayne said. “I’ll find her again.” But now, he needed to get to Montague. “I’ll see you soon.”
The young wizard rushed over to Montague, who was still shaking and rolling. Rayne stabilized him by pressing down on his chest with his left hand, securing his back to the ground. With his right hand, he placed his cloth wrapped palm on Montague’s forehead. The angel closed his eyes, spread his wings, and breathed in deep, in
