I would die.
The sickness had already taken root inside me as my magic faded. Surviving without my magic would be impossible—it would be like asking me to survive without oxygen. Someone walked toward us, and I looked up to find Mochazon limping to our side.
He stopped, his face shocked as he focused on Uli, but before he could speak, Geth walked forward. His white-knuckled fists clenched a thick cudgel with hooked, metal barbs, and hatred radiated off him like a living thing. I’d never seen so much hate in one person before. He fixated on us, but then his gaze snagged on the blossom.
I backed toward the plant, my heart beating wildly in my chest. My magic was gone. I had nothing but my own body to shield the flower.
The blossom’s power warmed me, giving me strength. As I looked into Geth’s eyes, I no longer felt fear. He’d already destroyed the tree. There was no way I would allow him to destroy the bloom.
I balled my fists, willing my magic to flow, but found I had nothing. Mochazon stood resolutely beside me.
“Move away from the flower,” Geth said.
“I will not,” I answered.
“Then I will not give you a choice.”
Geth moved so fast his body became a blur. In one motion, he grabbed my shirt collar and flung me aside. I landed several feet away. In horror, I watched as Geth swung his cudgel for the flower.
Mochazon moved in front of Geth, using his body as a shield between the goblin man and the flower. The tip of Mochazon’s wing touched the flower’s cocoon of protective magic, and as it did, the world around us ignited with a blinding light.
I closed my eyes against the light. The rush of wind filled my ears, a sound that threatened to deafen me, as strands of hair battered my face
When the wind and the light faded, Mochazon and the flower were gone.
Geth’s cudgel embedded with a loud thunk into one of the charred logs. With a scream of frustration, he pulled the weapon free, then rounded on me. “Where did he go?”
I backed away, my elbows scraping against stray splinters of wood.
“Where!” he demanded.
He moved toward me as he held the weapon, and a brief flash of a memory surfaced. This time, I knew he intended the damage to be much worse than a fractured rib.
I backed away as Geth raised his cudgel, but as he did, Kull appeared through the smoke.
Geth paused for half a second as Kull approached, giving the Wult enough time to slam his sword into Geth’s outstretched arm.
The blade severed Geth’s arm in half, and the bloody hand landed with a solid thud next to me.
I backed away from the still-quivering appendage.
Pain contorted Geth’s face as he fell to his knees, cradling what was left of his arm.
Kull’s sword shimmered with the Caxon leader’s blood, his eyes ignited with righteous anger as he circled the injured man.
I didn’t envy Geth.
“You won’t defeat me,” Geth said, his voice breathless as he held his stump to his chest. “I have destroyed the tree. Magic will cease to exist in Faythander, and when it does, I will rule.”
“You will never get the chance. I will kill you, Geth. I will find the path to Náströnd so that I may toss your decomposing body onto the pile of corpses that line the shores of river of the dead. You will suffer a thousand deaths, and then your soul will suffer for the rest of eternity for the crimes you have committed.”
Geth laughed. “Crass words from a man whose sister shares my bed. Heidel has given me great pleasure. I have enjoyed her immensely. She comes to me willingly, Kull. She craves my embrace.”
Kull swung his sword. His battle cry spoke of pain and power as the blade whispered through the air.
Geth stood tall. I saw a single word escape from his mouth—a spell—just as Kull’s sword connected with his flesh. The Caxon leader’s image blurred as a black mist engulfed him and he disappeared, the sword passing through him as if he were a ghost.
The remaining mist swirled around us. I recoiled as it touched me, its cold taint slithering over my skin. The fog retreated away from me and then engulfed the Caxon, swallowing their bodies until each had disappeared.
Kull cursed and dropped his sword.
I tried to wrap my mind around Geth’s power. With the tree destroyed, how had he managed a spell? And where had he gone?
Pushing those thoughts away, I crawled toward Uli who lay gasping on the ground. Her fingers froze my skin as I held her hands between mine. “Uli,” I whispered.
She groaned. Her gaze didn’t meet mine, as if her mind had wandered to some far-off place.
“Uli,” I repeated, my voice more insistent.
Finally, she focused. “Find… the flower.”
“Where is it?” I asked.
Her eyes became unfocused once again as she stared overhead. She didn’t answer.
Kull knelt beside us and glanced from Uli to me. “Is she dying?”
I blinked back tears. “Yes. She can’t live without the magic.”
Wasn’t there something I could do? A healing spell? No—the magic inside me had disappeared. I tried desperately to call it but found nothing but a cold emptiness where my magic had once been.
Kull placed his hands on mine. “Can you heal her?”
I shook my head. “The tree’s magic has been destroyed, and my magic seems to have disappeared with it.”
Uli’s fingers loosened in my grip, so I squeezed her hand tighter. Surely I could do something to save her…
My Earth magic. Was it still there?
Searching deep inside, I found my Earth magic glowing with a faint amber light, hugging the edges of the empty space where my Faythander magic had once resided. I knew the power was far too weak to be of any use. Still, I tried calling it forward, but the magic
