The prince stared at the ground. “I sought only to help the girl. I did not know the full extent of my actions until it was too late.”
“Who is she?” Kull asked.
“At one time, she was the protector of the unicorns’ stone. But she, like the guardian before her, saw dark visions in the pool she guarded, and the creatures that appeared there tainted her with their whispers. I guarded the fairies’ stone, and I saw visions in the pool I guarded, as well. I ignored them for a time, until the elven girl appeared and begged me to help her set the creatures free. She changed me—she made me immune to the starstone’s power so that I was able to use dark magic.”
He rubbed his face, looking tired and much older than his years. “I admit that the dark magic held a certain allure. It was an excitement I had never tasted, something rich, euphoric. It gave me power I never knew I had, but it came at a price—and whenever the bloodthorn asked for my assistance, I had no choice but to help him.”
“You helped him?” Heidel asked.
“I had no choice.”
“Yes you did,” his sister said. “You could have denied him at any time.”
“He would have killed me—he would have killed her!”
The princess shook her head. “Was it worth it? Was it worth it, now that our stone is gone? Was it worth betraying the trust of everyone who has helped us? Is it worth it now that I will lose my magic, and possibly my life?”
He couldn’t answer.
The princess turned to the witch. “I am ready.”
“Esmelda, please!” Terminus said. “I am sorry. I should not have done it.”
“You are right. You should never have done it. And now I must pay the price for your poor choices.”
The princess closed her eyes and exhaled a long sigh. Tears ran down her cheeks as the witch’s magic enveloped her.
I stood, watching helplessly. Was there nothing I could do to stop this? If I fought the witch and killed her… but my magic was not as strong as hers, and Fan’twar would not look kindly on the murder of one of his kind. Could I trick her somehow? There had to be a way to stop this. I’d come too far just to see the princess suffer, lose her magic—her essence—and possibly die.
Kull moved from the back of the group. The crowd parted as he marched forward, as if he held some power over everyone around him. His black-clad visage seemed to suck the light from the air. Even without magic, his presence struck fear into anyone who crossed him.
I didn’t envy the witch.
Kull unsheathed Bloodbane and stood between the witch and the fairy. He planted the sword’s tip in the ground, and the flow of magic between the two women stopped.
Silvestra looked with wide eyes at the Wult king.
“You shall not have her,” Kull said.
Whenever Kull spoke, it felt as if he could move mountains.
The witch drew back, fear clouding her eyes for half a second as she looked up at the dragon. “You said I could have what I wanted,” she shouted.
Fan’twar dipped his head, his golden eyes glowing as they reflected the sunlight. Somehow, I got the feeling he knew exactly what would happen and had planned for it.
“And so you shall. But choose wisely, Silvestra. Not all is as it seems. Is magic the payment you require? Or is there not something of greater value you desire?”
She searched his face, then turned back to Kull. With his hands resting atop the sword’s pommel, he stood tall, fearsome, and strikingly handsome. His gaze met mine for only a moment before he turned away.
The witch took a step toward him, scrutinizing him.
“I will have the king’s sword,” she said, “as the price of passage. I shall have the sword or nothing else. I am done with bargaining. He must give it freely and without hesitation, for this is the way the bargain must be struck.”
Alarm bells went off inside my head as magic intermingled with her words. I knew what sort of deal she was striking, and it wasn’t good.
“I will do what I must,” Kull said, kneeling. He held his sword reverently with his arms outstretched, the pommel resting on one hand and the blade atop the other hand, seamlessly balanced, an extension of himself.
A ray of sunlight, perfectly timed, descended upon Kull and the sword, gleaming over the polished metal and the golden strands of his hair.
True Kull. He was King Skullsplitter no more. The darkness had lifted, and now, with the sacrifice of his most treasured talisman, he had become the king he was meant to be—perhaps not the same ruler his father had been, but someone else, someone who inspired greatness.
The witch reached forward and lifted the sword from his hands, then backed away, clutching the blade as she retreated onto the bridge. Thick gray clouds spiraled overhead.
“I will allow only humankind into my lands. Dragons are forbidden. I care not what you trade, I will not allow another of my kind into my domain.”
Fan’twar only nodded.
Her gaze flicked to me. “The one you seek is nearly at the gate, but he will not enter until he has the magic he needs. If you wish to stop him, you must be prepared to pay the price—one that is far greater than what I have taken this day.”
When she reached the centermost point, the magical barrier flickered, and she stepped through it. Her body morphed. Arms elongated and extended into wings. Her neck stretched into a silver serpent’s neck, and scales covered her face as it, too, transformed.
The dragon clutched Kull’s sword to her chest as she took flight. Thunder cracked loud as she disappeared into the sky. We stood in stunned silence after she had gone.
“We must make haste to the mountain’s summit,” Kull said. “The creature has gained more ground than we suspected. We cannot be delayed any longer. Heidel, restrain the
