following them came the fire and lightning, now coupled with lances of ice and massive boulders, all from those open windows.
So far untouched, Antonil broke free of his terror and kicked the sides of his horse. Turning about, he raced toward the dying remnants of his army, seeking one man in particular. Tarlak Eschaton stood on the ground, having abandoned his horse. Silver light shone around his hands as he tried to summon his magic.
“Can you protect us?” Antonil shouted.
“I can’t,” Tarlak screamed. “Damn it, Antonil, I can’t stop them all!”
Several of the incoming spells shattered, but they were too few. Antonil watched, his throat constricting as he listened to the screams.
“Stop it!” the king screamed to the towers. “Stop it, are you mad?”
Lightning struck. Blinded, Antonil was thrown from his mount. He landed hard on his head. Gasping for air, his vision swirling with color, he saw faint images of his men, those he had promised to lead to victory, to safety, and watched them die amid a horrible mixture of fire, lightning, and ice. Their bodies burned, their bodies bled. So horrible, so futile, and why? What had he done?
The barrage lessened, nearly all of his army broken. Antonil staggered to his feet, found Tarlak on his knees still trying to cast a spell.
“I can protect us,” the wizard was mumbling. “I fought gods. I can protect us, I can protect…”
From the windows of the tower shot three balls of flame, their centers a deep blue, their outer ring a brilliant orange. All three were aimed their way. Tarlak grabbed Antonil’s hand, and accompanying a scream of pain a translucent shield formed before the two. The first fireball exploded. The heat washed over them, rolling about as if they were in the center of furnace, yet they were not yet burned. The second hit, Tarlak screamed, and the fire passed.
Before the third reached them, Antonil pulled his shield off his back. Despite the burns on his face, despite the blood dripping from his mouth and nose, Tarlak was still trying to protect them. Knowing it hopeless, Antonil shoved him to the grass, dove atop him, and raised his shield. Tarlak continued to mumble, and strangely he heard Aurelia’s name.
“I’m sorry,” Antonil whispered, thinking of his kingdom, his wife, his child. All of it lost, all of it in peril.
“Protect them, Harruq.”
The fire washed over him, burning away flesh and melting his armor, consuming the life that was his and ending his short, bittersweet reign.
From high atop the Master’s Tower, the Lord of the Council watched as the last of the army was buried in a wave of magical attacks. Satisfied, he turned to the lady at his right.
“Inform the capitol,” he said to her before descending the stairs that led up to the roof. “If Kevin wants the throne, it’s his to take.”
“Of course,” said the silver-haired lady. From the pocket of her dress she pulled out a scrap of paper. With a soft breath she blew across it. The paper folded in on itself, over and over, until it had taken the shape of a dove. Its wings flapped with the speed of a hummingbird, and then into the sky it shot, racing north at speeds only angels could hope to match.
Kevin stepped into Susan’s room, and she spun about, ready to berate him.
“Are the guards outside daft?” she asked. “You might have caught me in a state of undress.”
She meant it as playful banter, but the seriousness of his look stopped her. He held a piece of paper out to her as he approached.
“Your guards are dead,” he said.
Susan’s mouth fell open, and she took a step back toward her bed.
“What?’ she asked.
In answer he gave her the paper. She took it, unfolding the delicate material to reveal a simple message.
She looked up, saw the hope in her brother’s eyes.
“What is this?” she asked. “What does this mean?”
“It means my men have already cleared the city walls, and they’ll be here in moments. Where is the half- orc?”
Susan’s mouth suddenly felt dry. This was it. This was everything she’d feared of her brother, reaching fruition at last. She’d always told herself it’d never come this far. Apparently, she’d told herself a lie.
“He’s with Aurelia, in their room,” she said, still in a daze. “Will you kill them?”
Kevin put his hands on her shoulders, his hard gaze staring down at her. It made her feel small. It always did.
“Harruq was named steward by your husband. If I do nothing, that brute will rule, not you, not your child. By the time Gregory comes of age, do you think he’ll even have a throne to inherit? Harruq is the angels’ puppet. You know this. You’ve seen it.”
“Don’t do this,” Susan whispered. “Please, you don’t need to do this. At least let their little girl live.”
Kevin swallowed.
“This is an ugly business,” he said. “I’m not sure if she can be spared. No one must know what takes place here. We can still save our land, my dear sister. It will just take a little sacrifice. Can you do that for me? Can you be strong like I need you to be?”
Susan tried to push him away, but he held onto her, his grip on her arms tightening.
“You bastard,” she said. “You’ll kill us all, won’t you? My baby boy, even him, you sick-”
He slapped her across the face, silencing her. A hard shove knocked her to the ground. Shaking his head, he pulled out a small length of rope that had been looped about his belt.
“I do what must be done,” he said. “Something you’d never understand.”
She wanted to laugh at him. What must be done? She’d married a stranger so their household could prosper in the chaos following the war. Just a man of common blood, a man who loved his lost homeland more than her. She’d sat in the shadow of a half-blood hero, named steward because she was seen as too vulnerable to be declared ruler herself. For family, for friends, she understood enduring such things. But this wasn’t for family. It wasn’t for country. She saw greed in her brother’s eyes, a lust for power she should have quashed years ago.
“You won’t kill them,” she said, giving him her hardest glare. “Harruq’s stronger than any man you have, and the elf’s magic is unstoppable. They’ll escape, and when they do they’ll tell the whole world of your betrayal.”
Kevin smiled that confident smile of his as he forced her to her knees, wrapping his rope around her wrists.
“My dear sister, trust me,” he said as men in strange clothes and gray masks entered the room behind him. “I’ve taken care of that.”
27
“What do you think?” Harruq asked as he held up two different shirts, one crimson and shiny, the other a deep, subdued green. “Which will look better on me at the ball tonight? I want tough but smart. Think we can do that with these frilly outfits? You know, Haern always managed to…”
He stopped, mouth hanging open, as Aurelia suddenly collapsed, falling off the bed and onto her knees, her hands clutching the sides of her head.
“Aurry?” he asked, rushing to her side. She let out a gasp as he put his arms around her, holding her against him.
“Stop it!” she screamed, her eyes rolling back into her head. “Stop it, you’re burning him!”
And then, just like that, it ceased. Her body crumpled and he held her, stroking her hair, completely baffled and terrified because of it. For a long while she trembled in his arms, crying softly. It was only when she finally sat up, sniffling and wiping at her eyes, that he was convinced she’d regained her senses.
