Just then a Drakaar extended its hand, dark magic hitting my shield. Shadows engulfed me as I turned to face it, a dagger of silver fire forming in my left hand. I threw it at the sorcerer of Dragath; he staggered as my dagger buried itself in his chest. He looked down and sank to his knees, shock apparent in his eyes.
The tattoos on his neck and face swirled as his magic reached out to attack. I wasted no time, lunging at him. Raising my sword, I sliced downward, severing the Drakaar’s head from his body.
But there was no time to stop, no time to breathe. Blood pounded in my ears as I ran.
Penelope was making her way toward the portal with Tristan, and Cade was still on the other side of the room. Three werewraiths had backed a bunch of fae against a wall with no way out.
I had to help them; everyone else was busy.
I flung my unfettered magic at the dark creatures with one hand, hurling all three against the wall and pinning them there. I pulled forth more of my magic, drawing on the well that lay open within me, and pushed harder. The werewraiths screeched, and even the Drakaar faltered to see what had made their creatures scream.
Instinctively I drew on my mage magic, mixing it with the silver fire so that flames of gold and red licked through my body, creating a writhing blaze that flared out of my hands. I focused my power and the flames grew as I created my own brand of magic, engulfing the screaming werewraiths, reducing them to ash and smoke.
So I don’t need a sword to kill them after all.
Tristan was a distance away, fighting two Drakaar and defending Penelope so she could close the portal. I ran to help them when a wall of dark magic crashed into me out of nowhere, flinging me to the ground. I lost my grip on the sword and it fell to the side, clattering away on the cold marble floor.
“Aurora,” Tristan roared and moved toward me as three werewraiths pounced on him from behind, pinning him to the ground. He twisted and plunged a flaming dagger into a werewraith’s eye, and it fell back. But another one had sunk its teeth into his arm.
“Tristan,” I screamed, reaching for my sword just as Raziel picked me up by my throat and slammed me into the wall.
Pain tore through me as my head hit stone. The room swam before my eyes as I tried to focus my powers and heal myself.
“So you finally learned to wield your magic properly, young fae-mage,” sneered Raziel, his eyes a bottomless pit of darkness. “And it seems you have created your own magic too. Quite impressive. But too late. Morgana’s army is coming, and the Book of Abraxas will be hers soon. Izadora will die a painful death, and you, my little princess, will join her.”
The crush of his power at my throat held me pinned to the wall. A great weight suppressed my magic and refused to let it surface. An old power fed the Drakaar lord’s magic, and the ancient darkness tried its best to smother my light.
I looked over at Penelope—she was backed up against a wall. Tristan had fought off the werewraiths and was defending her. But he was weakening, I could see it; the werewraith’s bite had poison in it. How long he could hold out before the poison took hold, I didn’t know. He tried to get to me, but two Drakaar and three werewraiths stood between us.
“The time has come for you to die, Aurora Shadowbreaker,” sneered Raziel. “Once you are gone, all of Avalonia will kneel before the might of Morgana’s army, and Dragath will rise once more.” Shadow Demons appeared beside him, and he raised his dark sword, swirling with the blackest of magic, ready to plunge it into my heart. He was enjoying tormenting me, telling me Morgana had won.
But she hadn’t won. Not yet.
I shut out the sneering voice and calmed my racing heart. I plunged down within, deep into my well of magic, unbound, raw, and powerful. Farther down I went, to a place I had never been before, and awoke the real Aurora Firedrake—the queen that I was meant to be.
Courage and hope infused my magic as an enormous power roiled up inside me, uncoiling itself from depths I never knew I had, and pushed to the surface. Without the amulet binding me, I had to focus, to not allow it to get the better of me. I had to control it; I could control it.
My eyes went flat as all fear fell away. I stared straight into the eyes of the sneering Drakaar and said in the voice of a queen, “Morgana and Dragath will never force Avalonia to its knees. Not as long as I am still alive.”
I started to glow as power filled my very pores and Raziel’s eyes widened in terror; his magic could not hold me back any longer. I pushed at the wall of suffocating ancient darkness and shattered it. My unbound power reared its mighty head as twin swords blazing with silver fire appeared in my hands.
Using all my strength and the swiftness of my fae senses, I brought my arms up in wide, sweeping arcs, slicing them across Raziel’s neck, severing the Drakaar lord’s head from his body.
The other two Drakaar turned in shock to see their commander fall. Tristan took the opening and, with the last bit of his strength, swung his sword at the other Drakaar’s head. Tristan’s foe dropped to the ground.
But I
