Ella’s body began to glow as her runes shielded her from the searing heat. She glowed brighter and brighter until Killian couldn’t look on.
Sentar’s runes darkened one after the other, and his black velvet shirt began to smoke. The cuffs at his wrists started to melt, and the chain at his neck sizzled against his skin. Ella pushed forward again, and the central zone of superheated air moved inevitably closer to the Lord of the Night.
Sentar screamed.
Killian picked up the sword.
He recalled Miro’s instruction. Miro said that when the time came, he couldn’t hesitate to strike.
Killian leapt forward, and as the last of the runes on Sentar’s body darkened and Sentar’s hair caught fire, Killian struck with all of his strength, thrusting into Sentar Scythran’s back.
Killian pushed and felt the last of the Evermen’s lore leave his body along with his life. The blade met little resistance and emerged from Sentar’s chest.
Ella’s hands dropped.
Killian pulled out the sword, and Sentar Scythran cried out one last time, a gasping wheeze that exited his body along with the dripping blade.
The Lord of the Night crumpled, his eyes staring wide, dead before he hit the ground.
Killian lowered the dripping sword, red with blood, and crouched at Sentar’s side.
The Lord of the Night’s eyes were wide and unblinking. Otherwise, the dead stare hadn’t much changed.
66
Miro woke and groaned as he felt pain in his stomach. He tried to free his hands, but they were trapped by another’s grip. He writhed around until he heard a soothing voice.
“Shh,” Amber said. “You’ve been wounded. Don’t try to move.”
“What . . . ?” Miro said, looking wildly around him.
He was in a bedchamber with the familiar marble floor and slate and timber walls of the Imperial Palace. An open window let in a steady breeze. It was evidently nighttime.
“It’s over,” Amber said soothingly. “You’re safe. You’re in the palace.”
“How long?” Miro said.
“Two days.”
Miro suddenly shot up and tried to throw off the covers. “Rogan!”
Amber pressed down on his arms. “Miro, listen to me. He’s very badly wounded. They’re saying he might not make it. Right now he’s being tended by the emperor’s best healers, but it doesn’t look good.”
“I have to see him,” Miro said.
“You will. But they don’t want any interruption right now, and you need to rest. He lost a lot of blood, and they’re trying to save his life. You’ve lost a lot of blood too.”
Miro sank back to the bed, his limbs feeling weak and mind thick. “How . . . ?” he began and then coughed and cleared his throat. “How am I here?”
“The Petryan elementalists arrived at the battle. They burned the revenants. Lord of the Sky, I’ve never seen anything like it. They blew the dust away, the Legion regrouped, and we hit the enemy. I found you with Rogan.”
“I remember,” Miro said. His dark eyes were shadowed.
“You were trying to help Rogan, but you were wounded yourself. Bartolo and Tiesto helped me bring the two of you back here.”
“And the enemy?”
“The Petryan infantry arrived at the city soon after. They’d marched after receiving Stonewater’s distress call. Sentar Scythran left necromancers in Aynar to build more vats and raise more revenants. The Petryans freed Stonewater and Salvation, clearing the land as they marched for Tingara and Seranthia.”
Miro’s eyes went wide. “Sentar!” he once more tried to sit up.
“He’s dead. We have his body, and we’re showing it to the people, letting them see that one of the Evermen can die just as easily as any other human.”
“Dead? How?” Miro’s breath caught. “Killian. He did it?”
“No,” Amber said, and Miro’s eyebrows went up. “Well, yes. But he had help.”
“Help?”
Amber smiled. “I’ll let you see for yourself. Don’t be shocked when you see her.”
Amber rose from the bed and went to the door. Opening it, she spoke to someone outside, and then she entered with Ella behind her.
“Ho, Miro,” Ella said, smiling.
Miro’s mouth dropped open. Ella’s pale blonde hair shone in the golden light of the room’s nightlamp. But she had a streak of strawberry red at her left temple, an inch wide line framing her face and falling down nearly to her waist. Her green eyes were now tinged with blue, like emeralds glinting within sapphires. Rather than her silk enchantress’s garb, she wore a dress of sky blue, thick and supple material that fit her better than the cloth of an enchantress ever had.
“Ella . . .” Miro spluttered. “You . . .”
“I’m still the same.” Ella grinned. “I’ve just grown, that’s all.”
Amber’s eyes moved from one face to the other. She looked like she was fighting to keep a smile from her face.
“How?” Miro said. “Lord of the Sky, I keep saying that.”
“Do you remember the alchemist Tungawa’s dying words to Amber?”