He didn’t see the fire, but he heard it, roaring like an animal behind him. He chanced a single look back and saw a tornado of flames coming straight for him. The world became heat and fire. He wrapped his magic around himself, healing blisters as they formed. The concussive force smashed into him, as if Erawan had returned and kicked him with his colossal foot. Magic plowed into him and all went dark.
The light returned in a rush of agony. Hugh blinked at the twin stabs of pain. Broken legs. He must’ve been thrown by the blast and landed badly. He tried to move his arms and couldn’t. The bones and muscles functioned fine, but something was restraining him.
The light darkened as something blurry blocked it.
Hugh blinked until the blurry thing came into focus and stared at the vampire’s face.
The undead opened its mouth.
“Well, well,” it said in Nez’s voice. “Today is not a total loss.”
Fuck.
Elara stared at the door. Behind her, hundreds of people waited. If the mrogs got through, she would stop them.
So much time had passed. It had to be hours. It felt like hours.
Someone pounded on the door. “Open!” a familiar voice yelled.
Stoyan.
Elara grasped the bar. People moved to help her, and the door was pried open. Stoyan ran in, carrying Johanna, limp like a ragdoll. “Help her!”
Savannah put her ear on Johanna’s chest. “She doesn’t need help. She needs time.” She jerked her head and Nikolas ran up to take Johanna from Stoyan’s arms.
“What’s happened?” Dugas asked.
Stoyan stared at him, his eyes wild, his skin smeared with blood and dirt. “Hugh killed the commander. The guy exploded. The mrogs ran away and the soldiers walked off.”
“Walked off where?” Savannah demanded.
“Into the woods. We killed some that were left between us and the castle, but the rest of them are either standing around or wandering off into the brush. As long as you don’t go near them, they don’t attack.”
Elara grabbed Stoyan’s arm. “Where is Hugh?”
“Nez has him.”
Ice rolled over her. “How?”
“He was thrown by the blast,” Stoyan said. “The undead got to him before we could.”
Thoughts rushed through her, coming too fast. “Is Nez still out there?”
“No, he cleared out as soon as they captured the Preceptor.”
She’d been right. This battle was never about the castle. It was about Hugh.
Stoyan bared his teeth. “I need volunteers. We’ll get him back.”
“You won’t,” Dugas said. “Nez has only fielded a small part of his force. He still has most of his undead. There isn’t enough of you.”
“Your job is to protect us,” Savannah said. “With the Preceptor gone, whose orders are you supposed to follow?”
Stoyan clenched his fists.
“We follow his spouse,” Lamar said from the depths of the room.
“There you go,” Savannah said. “We need you here. The Preceptor is a lost cause. You can’t get him back.”
Lamar walked into the center of the room and bowed his head to Elara.
Stoyan swore.
“We were given specific orders,” Lamar said. “He told us that if he died, you inherited command.”
“He isn’t dead,” Stoyan snarled.
Lamar didn’t answer.
Stoyan clenched his fists again and bowed his head.
“I will speak for Bale,” the female berserker called out. “We obey the spouse. We won’t dishonor his last order.”
They were hers, Elara realized. She had the castle and the Iron Dogs. She didn’t have to share authority anymore. Hugh trusted her to take care of his people.
There was only one solution to this problem. It was staring her straight in the face. Fear gripped her, so strong she could barely breathe. She was stronger, she reminded herself. She was always stronger.
She had to get him back. There was no other way.
Her voice came out cold. “Bring the cows.”
A shocked silence fell. The Iron Dogs looked around, bewildered.
“You can’t,” Savannah recoiled. “For him? You would manifest for him?”
“Hugh was abandoned by everyone in his life.” Her words rang out. “His parents, his teacher, his surrogate father. They all threw him away. He trusted us. He sacrificed himself to save us. This is his home. I’m his wife. I will not abandon him. Bring the cows.”
Elara stood on the wall. The fires had been lit, fighting back the night. On the field, remnants of the mrog force mulled about, confused. Stoyan was right. Most of them eventually walked off into the wilderness. She had no idea how long the magic wave would last, but tech would kill them, she was sure of it. There was too much magic in their bodies to survive the tech.
The moon had risen.
In the bailey, sigils were being drawn with chalk and salt. Dugas presided over it. He was wearing his white robe. On the walls and in the bailey the Departed waited, wearing white. A line of cows stood waiting, each decorated with sigils drawn in white, dedicated to her. Fifteen total. That would do.
“Don’t do this,” Savannah said, her voice pleading. “You have everything you want. Just let Nez have him. It solves all of our problems.”
“No.”
“Elara…”
“Do you remember that night?” she asked. She didn’t have to specify which night. It was always the first night, the night she was reborn.
“Of course I remember.”
“You said then that loyalty was the only thing we had. Before friendship, before love, before wealth, there is loyalty.”
Savannah didn’t answer.
“I’ve made up my mind,” Elara said. “I have to bring him back.”
Savannah opened her arms and wrapped them around her. “You poor child,” the witch whispered.
Elara rested her head on Savannah’s shoulder, the way she had done when she was little and for a moment she was ten years old again, frightened and alone on that first night.
“You poor sweet girl. You can do this, you hear? You can hold it at bay. Don’t surrender to it. Don’t let it devour you.” Her voice broke. “You’re stronger than it. You hear me? You grip it and you make it obey. Don’t forget who you are.”
“I won’t,” Elara promised. She believed it. She had no choice. Any doubt and she would lose.
Savannah let her go, looked at her, and brushed the stray hair off Elara’s face. There were tears in her eyes. “It’s time then.”
Elara walked down the stairs to the bailey.
Dugas pulled out a curved knife covered with sigils.
Stoyan and Lamar moved to stand next to her.
“What’s going on right now?” Lamar asked quietly.
“I’m going to manifest,” she said.
“Why does the druid have a knife?” Lamar asked.
“Because tonight he isn’t a druid. Defend the castle while I’m gone. That’s your order.”
Stoyan opened his mouth, but she walked away from them and stepped into the ring of sigils.
A low chant rose from the Departed, gaining strength. She felt her magic stir in response.
“Go inside,” Savannah told the Iron Dogs. “You don’t want to be here for this.”
Lamar began to protest.
“Go inside,” Elara told them. “Please.”
The centurions walked away.
A bare-footed child led the first cow to Dugas and walked away. The beast looked at Elara with liquid brown eyes, trusting. Guilt twisted her. She clenched her teeth and reached deep inside herself, into the place where her magic waited behind a locked door.
Dugas chanted, his face turning savage. The curved knife flashed, catching the light of the fires. Bright red blood splashed across his white robe.
Power punched Elara, catapulting her through the door straight into the depths of her magic to the cold presence that waited for her there. Ancient as the stars, powerful beyond measure, too complex for a human to understand, yet single-minded in its ferocity. It waited for her, no longer a frozen iceberg, but a pool of celestial water.
She sank into it, fueled by the magic of the sacrifice. The liquid closed over her head, submerging her, and she let it flood her with its magic…
The universe opened like a flower, its secrets hers for the taking.