I hung my head and held her hand for the last time. “I’m so sorry, Viv.” I turned to the others. “We need to get her back to Eldoren for a proper burial.”
Rafe came over and put his hand on my shoulder. “We will.”
Ashara walked over to gently pick up Vivienne’s body in her arms. The witch warrior was stoic and unfazed as usual, but her gentle handling of Vivienne’s body told me she was not as indifferent as she tried to portray.
“The war is not over yet,” said Penelope as I stood up. “Silverthorne’s forces will be decimated by Morgana’s army if we don’t do something about it. Dragath has been breeding demon creatures for years expressly for this purpose. Their forces outnumber ours ten to one.”
Rafe’s face hardened. He checked his weapons. “Silverthorne will be holding the fortress at the Eastern Pass in the Cascade Mountains. As long as we can defend it, Morgana’s army cannot get through to Eldoren.”
Penelope shook her head. “We cannot defend it for long. The army Aiden described will destroy our forces.”
“If Santino’s army and the witches can get there in time, we might still have a chance,” offered Ashara.
“Maybe,” Penelope nodded. “But they are going to need our help.”
“And I know just how to give it to them.” I picked up the Dagger of Dragath from the floor beside the pile of ash that was once the Dark Lord’s body and secured it in a holster in my belt. Dawn was already strapped across my back. “Let’s go!”
Once we were outside the Dark Fortress, a wave of relief flushed over me. I took a deep breath. A burnished pink glow started to flood the horizon as sunlight touched Mount Khatral for the first time in five thousand years.
Penelope glanced at me. “We need to open a portal directly to the fortress at the Eastern Pass,” she instructed.
Tristan scowled. “You do realize we will be opening a portal right in the middle of a war? I would rather summon the griffins to take us there.”
Penelope’s eyes were set like stone, and she shook her head. “Griffins will take too long. This is the fastest way. If Morgana’s army takes the fortress, all will be lost.” She turned to me. “Can you do it?”
I gave her a small smile. “Absolutely,” I answered, and there was no doubt whatsoever that I could.
Vivienne’s death had changed me, and I knew now the consequences of my actions were very real, affecting the ones I loved. But with that realization came a strength I didn’t know I had, and with that strength a clear sense of who I was and what I was meant to do. For we create our own destiny with the choices we make, and I had a responsibility to all of Avalonia to make the right one. I had come to realize we live in a world of our own creation, and I was going to create mine.
I gathered the threads of my magic, separating my spirit magic from the rest. In my mind’s eye, I could see a clear map of Avalonia. I concentrated on the fortress that defended the pass at the Cascade Mountains. I waved my hand and opened a portal. Mist swirled within it as the magical gateway began to grow.
Ashara stepped forward and glanced at Tristan, inclining her head. “You first.”
The dark prince’s face lit up as he drew both his swords. “Of course,” he said and plunged into the portal.
Ashara went after him, holding Vivienne’s body cradled in her arms, her staff strapped across her back.
Rafe followed with my father and Penelope.
As I held the portal open, I glanced at the fortress looming over the Darklands, and my eyes narrowed. It was a place of so much pain and heartache, and had served as my father’s prison for the last fifteen years. I had to let it all go, to allow Dragath’s memory to fade into the mists of time.
Bending down, I touched my hand to the ground, sending a wave of earth magic through it, powerful and ancient magic that had been long forgotten by this world. A crack appeared in the rock as my power speared toward the mountain.
Mount Khatral shook. A rumbling sound filled my ears as the dark, twisted stone fortress that Dragath had built started to crumble to dust before my eyes. I shot one last look at the Dark Lord’s last resting place, then stepped through the portal after my friends.
The clash of swords rang all around me when I emerged from the portal, shutting it instantly behind me. I had indeed arrived in the middle of a war, and it was still raging.
I swiftly took in my surroundings, my fae senses on full alert.
We were on a balcony overlooking the battlements. The great White Fortress loomed over the valley that lay beyond. Morgana’s army had spread out across the Valley of Flowers as far as the eye could see—a massive horde teeming with dark creatures, monstrous abominations with rotting flesh and flashing red eyes. Black-hooded Drakaar led the ranks, an evil writhing mass of darkness that swept across the plains, destroying everything in its wake.
Gorgoths flew over the horde, teeming like an army of locusts as they battered themselves against the wards and shields the mages had created around the fortress. I knew these wards would not hold for long against the combined magic of the Drakaar.
Already some had broken through and managed to make it onto the battlements, causing havoc among the Eldorean ranks. All around me soldiers and warrior-mages shouted, nocked, and fired arrows and magic one after another at Morgana’s creatures
