Suddenly, with a scream shaking from his throat, the Lonely King shoved forward with all his force, with all his magic.
And I faced a choice. For right there – right in front of my eyes – were the sparks. I had time to reach out to them, to accept them.
But I didn’t.
Because screw this – I would make my own destiny.
I held on. With nothing more than my mortal strength.
Just hold on.
The Lonely King was using so much magic, he looked like a star ready to burn out. And he would.
5 more seconds.
I found strength from somewhere, held his hands in place. But I couldn’t stop the knife from dipping down, from scraping my bloody torso.
Max had been thrown back, and he was only now getting to his feet. He wouldn’t have time to reach me.
If I wanted to live, I’d have to save myself.
2 more seconds.
Last chance. The sparks swarmed me, flooded my vision from every angle. But I did not follow them.
I held on.
1 more second. Then nothing.
Time ran out. I lost my grip.
The Lonely King lurched forward, the knife pushing into my torso, slicing through another millimeter of skin.
….
But the knife went no further. For time had run out.
I watched the Lonely King’s eyes roll back, watched fear flood through his expression.
Max finally pushed up and reached the Lonely King, locking an arm around the sorcerer king’s throat and pulling him backward.
The Lonely King didn’t fight. He couldn’t. He’d burnt himself dry. Literally. His skin was smoking as if he’d rolled in coals.
Shaking, I pushed onto my elbows. Blood covered my torso, but it was already being washed away by the driving rain.
I locked a hand on my chest, my shaking fingers checking my wound.
It was superficial. It would heal.
The Lonely King would not.
Though Max grappled with him, dragging the bastard further away from me, it didn’t matter. The Lonely King didn’t fight back – he couldn’t. There was no fight left in him, barely any life left in him. He fell limp in Max’s grip, his head lolling to the side.
His stare was vacant, his lips limp as he stared at me.
The time gate was no longer shaking with incredible power. In fact, it whirring down like a motor that had been turned off.
The Lonely King used the last of his energy to turn, to fight against Max’s grip. He didn’t reach towards his knife, though – didn’t swear at me. No, he arched his neck and faced the time gate, a single tear trailing down his cheek. It hissed into steam against his cracked and broken skin.
Max no longer fought against the Lonely King, he just let him die.
And die he did. The Lonely King’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he lay still.
I stared at him, cheeks cold, the rain having already washed away most of my blood and all of my warmth.
Max finally tilted his head back and stared at me.
I stared back.
“Chi, you’re alive. God, you’re alive.” Those little words appeared to break the wall holding him back, and he thrust forward, skidding over on his knees, water splashing over his pants and shirt as he wrapped an arm around my back.
I fell easily into his grip, my eyes closing, giving way to the fatigue robbing me of my last strength. Still, I managed a smile. But first? First I let my gaze flick to the side as I searched for Max’s shadow.
McCane.
He wasn’t here.
So I wrapped my arms around Max’s breath. “You’re alive. Where have you been?”
“The Lonely King defeated me in the library, trapped me in his mansion. Jim and the other witches found me and broke me free. I’m sorry it took so long.”
“You got here in the end.” I kept smiling around my words. But the smile wasn’t a relieved one. Nope. It was grim.
I may have defeated the Lonely King, but the true battle was yet to come.
It was time to save Max – the real Max. The Man who now held me, with his warm touch, his warm heart. The man Mary McLane had apparently saved – the only good part left of McCane’s soul.
I was going to save him. And there wasn’t a thing McCane would be able to do to stop me.
Max finally pulled away, thumbing my wet hair from my face. It was a similar move to what McCane had done to Mary in the past, but the feeling was different. The intent behind it worlds apart.
“How did you stop him? How did you fight that much magic?” Max asked, his voice shaking with wonder.
I wouldn’t answer. There was no point in telling the truth. Do that, and the shadow would simply rear its ugly head.
So I, Chi McLane, did what I was best at. I smiled. “My powers. They saved me.”
That relieved smile kept spreading over his face until it lit up his visage like a candle chasing back a shadow. “Thank god.”
“… Yeah.” I switched my attention off Max and rested it on the Lonely King’s still body. Then I ticked it back and faced the time gate.
It was still glowing with power, but it was clear it was discharging.
Max turned over his shoulder to track what I was looking at. “It’s okay – you interrupted the spell. All the magic the Lonely King amassed is going to simply discharge back into the environment. You’ve done it, Chi. You’ve done it.”
I smiled.
Yeah.
I’d done it. I’d stopped a magical lunatic with nothing but my bare hands.
Yeah, I’d gotten lucky. Or maybe it hadn’t been
