Chapter 24

No matter how many plans they had in place, no one felt ready to march into battle to fight for their lives.

Trystan took in the swarm of bodies surrounding him. His people. Some were soldiers. Others had worked their farms or run shops in the villages. Some women who now prepared to march had spent much of their lives caring for children.

Yet, they’d come. From the villages of Aldorwood to the shores of Sona. Even many who claimed Isenore as their home.

Word had wound its way through the camp in the night of the impending battle. He’d needed them to begin their preparations. To don their makeshift armor and crude weapons. The ones who had much magical ability had to draw power from the earth before crossing over to the land that was now dead and devoid of magic.

He adjusted the straps on his breastplate. The iron felt foreign on his body.

Lord Coille stepped up beside him and nodded in approval. “Your father insisted on wearing leather armor into battle. I never understood his desire for the vulnerabilities that gave him.”

Rissa appeared, her red hair pulled back and twisted around the crown of her head, making the angles of her face more prominent. “It was a desire for freedom, not vulnerability.” She swung her arms, moving her own leather armor as if to prove her point. Trystan and Davion had both tried to force her to wear more protection, but she’d refused.

Fog swirled through the woods where the army waited as the dark veil lifted from the world. Tension sliced through the air, refusing to snap.

“Ri,” Trystan started. He didn’t know what he wanted to say next. Stay safe? I wish you weren’t coming with us?

How could he when they needed her? Her archers would be at the front. They’d eventually pull back, but Rissa was one of the most powerful magic wielders Dreach-Sciene had. She’d be needed to hold the shield.

Or at least try to.

So instead of voicing his concerns for his sister, he turned his thoughts to the battle ahead. “Do you remember what it is you are to do?”

She sighed. “I don’t want you to get hurt either, brother.” She peered into his eyes as if reading his thoughts. “You don’t need to distract me with talk of strategy and plans. I know my role. I will do it as well as I can.” She touched his arm. “I’d tell you not to play the hero, but I know you will. Just… when I first got Davi back, I thought I couldn’t go through that again—losing someone I love. But we’re Renaulds, Trystan. We weren’t raised to think of ourselves. The sacrifices required of us, the things that destroy us, might just save everyone else.”

Rissa released his arm. “I love you, Trystan. Whatever happens here this day, you are my king, my family. So be the hero. Even if you have to give all of yourself. Your kingdom deserves no less.”

Tears pooled in the depths of her eyes but she didn’t allow them to break free. Trystan pulled her into a crushing hug. His sister was right. Their troops were being asked to sacrifice a lot and he would not spare himself.

Davi appeared behind them and Trystan released Rissa so she could fall into his friend’s arms. One day, if they survived this, he’d make sure the two of them had the chance to be together without constantly being pulled apart.

Trystan squeezed Davi’s shoulder as he walked by. He reached his horse and swung up into the saddle. Others followed suit. Those who’d be making the trek on foot formed their lines.

His generals’ commands ripped through the air, turning chaos into order.

It took time to get set, but with the sun rising at his back, Trystan kicked his horse out in front of the others and jerked him around.

He took a deep breath, studying the faces of his people. Many had come who’d fought in his father’s war, their faces now lined with age. Others were picking up swords for the first time.

The only ones not holding weapons at the ready were the few wielders who’d be using their magic from the start to form a shield. It wouldn’t hold for long, but the Dreach-Dhoun legions would throw their magic at it, not realizing their path to more power had been blocked.

At least that was the plan.

He’d gone over it in his head a million times and now it was time.

“What I ask of you today is more than anyone should ever have to give.” He lifted his voice to reach even the farthest line of men. “Should we succeed; our victory will come at a cost that will change Dreach-Sciene forever. Yet… I still must come to you. I still must ask you to leave your fields and your shops and travel across the kingdom to stand alongside those who’ve trained for this.”

He paused. “And you came. You appeared out of the darkness to show me, show Dreach-Sciene, a way to bring back the light. This is your kingdom. Not Calis Bearne’s. Not Briggs Villard’s. Ours.” He pointed to his chest. “Twenty years ago, they stole our magic. Now they come to take everything else. But Calis Bearne does not know what I do. The people of Dreach-Sciene are not so easily beaten.”

A cheer rose up through the soldiers.

“The legions have bled the earth dry. They chose this battlefield. But we’ve lived without magic for twenty years. It does not give us our strength.” He lifted one arm to point and moved it so he encompassed all. “This is our strength.”

Metal clanged through the clearing as swords crashed against shields and armor in agreement.

Trystan nudged his horse back beside Davion. His friend had a smile on his face. He held out his hand. “Truwa.”

Trystan grasped it. “Brathair.”

Avery flanked his other side. Her gaze was as calm as always, but it held something else as well. Pride. “Your father and mother would be proud, Trystan. As am I.”

Simple words, but they meant a lot coming from this master of stony silence.

“I am lucky to have you by my side, Avery.”

She ducked her head. “As I served the Renaulds before you, sire. It is where I am meant to be.”

His eyes left Avery and found the familiar golden ones. He and Alixa shared a smile across the span that separated them as Trystan drank in Alixa’s features.

As if she gave him the courage, finally he was ready to let go. He nodded to Brown whose “Move out” command sent a jolt of adrenaline surging through Trystan.

This battle would either be the end of his reign or the beginning of something else.

* * *

The sight of the waiting Dreach-Dhoun army as they rode toward the stronghold was beyond terrifying. They stretched for leagues into the horizon. A sea of black armor in the gray wasteland that was once Cullenspire. Calis’ legion of loyal followers and powerful magic wielders. The army they would have to defeat or die trying.

Trystan refused to let the fear burning in his gut overwhelm him. He rode swiftly, his eyes taking in those around him. Even though they all knew the same, that most of them marched to their deaths, they marched strong and tall. No one showed fear. Trystan was proud to call them his people.

Cullenspire lay off in the distance, the lazy spirals of smoke still emanating from it a testament to the battle that had occurred here. Trystan had a fleeting moment of sadness for those he knew perished there. They were his people too. He hoped Wren and Mira did not follow in the path of Lady Yaro, but he didn’t have much faith in that hope.

They crested the rise and stopped. The sound of hundreds of horses and marching troops ceased as an eerie silence encompassed them. Calis and his army waited below just as silently under the deceivingly calm blue sky. Trystan glanced up and down the line of soldiers that flanked him.

“Ready!” he bellowed, and at his command shields and lances were raised. Frontline soldiers interspersed with wielders to protect the line of archers behind them. “Attack!”

Horns sounded, joining the battle cries of both armies. As one they descended the hill and hurtled into battle.

As soon as they came into range of Calis’ men, the sun warming their heads was blocked out as hundreds of arrows filled the sky. Trystan felt the magic shield rise around them, embracing them in its touch, as their physical shields went up as well. Their wielders would hold back on magic. Dreach-Dhoun’s archers would not. There would be power behind those arrows, most likely enough to penetrate the weak shield.

He was right. Even as most of the arrows bounced away, some broke through with a crackling of power. A couple of his people shrieked in pain as the arrows found their targets.

“Now!” Lonara ordered and the magic was drawn back, the shield disappearing. Trystan heard Rissa commanding their own attack. Dreach-Sciene’s arrows were not backed by magic, but the enemy did not know that. Trystan watched pleased as the powerful barrier their enemy created repelled the volley of arrows unleashed on them. A shield that strong took power. Magic they would not be able to get back from the empty earth.

“Again,” Rissa ordered as the enemy’s shield went down to allow their next attack. A second shower of arrows barreled over Trystan’s head. The foremost of Calis’ men dropped, gurgling with Dreach-Sciene arrows in their throats. The rest kept advancing, running over their own fallen soldiers as the world around them plunged into chaos.

Screaming started. Sounds of crashing steel, of rage, of pain, filled the air. Both sides taking damage and sustaining casualties. Trystan slashed at anything in black armor, but they fought back strong, their strikes fueled by magic. Again and again his blade contacted with resistance as their enemy used up their magic stores. An occasional strike against flesh stained his sword red, but Trystan feared those strikes were too few and far between.

A gust of magic struck Trystan from the side, spooking his steed. The horse neighed in fright and reared in the air, dumping Trystan unceremoniously on the ground. He rolled into the fall, his sword still in his hand, and leapt to his feet as a blade slashed by his cheek so near it burned. The soldier stumbled, and Trystan slashed at his legs, cutting them out from under him. Once the man hit the ground, Trystan sliced him through the neck, ending his agony.

Bodies were so close together, fighting surrounding him on all sides. It was hard to tell who was who. Trystan turned just in time to see a Dreach-Sciene soldier meet his bloody end. The legionnaire who took him down whirled on Trystan, the hate twisting his face with ugliness. He fell his sword at Trystan and the king blocked the blow with his blade. They snarled at each other, so close Trystan could see the red veins in the whites of his eyes.

They strained and grunted in their stalemate, neither willing to back away. Trystan knew the moment the soldier called on his magic. The pressure on the sword increased and Trystan’s knees buckled from the power the soldier exerted. If he fell to his knees, it would mean certain death. He suddenly pulled away and the soldier fell forward from the momentum of his attack. He hit the ground hard, but quickly flipped over onto his back, his sword still in his hand.

Trystan was just as quick. He attacked, and the downed soldier raised his own weapon to parry as Trystan swung.

The sword froze in the air.

Trystan stumbled as he tried to force the weapon forward, but it was held firmly in place by invisible hands. It was like trying to swing through metal instead of air. Magic.

Trystan glanced around trying to find the source of the power. It wasn’t the soldier on the ground. He looked just as confused. A woman stood to the side, dressed in the black armor, her red hair so much like Rissa’s hanging wildly in her face and taunting Trystan with her grin. When she realized Trystan was left unprotected, she lunged, her blade slashing at his neck.

Trystan released the useless weapon hanging in mid-air and threw himself to the ground. He felt the breeze as the woman’s sword swung over his head, narrowly missing him. His own blade clanged to the ground a short distance away.

He rolled, trying to dodge the next blow as it slammed into the ground close to his head. His hand shot out trying to grab the sword, only to have it yanked away by more magic.

That’s right, keep using it up.

He leapt to his feet and whirled while the woman was preparing for another swing. Throwing himself forward he ducked under her arm and dashed to the side, hoping to reach his sword before she could cast more magic. With one swift movement he fell to his knees and slid along the ground the last couple of feet, grabbing up his sword in the process. He turned in time to catch the wave of magic she flung his way, hoping to leave him defenseless once again.

The gust of air hit his blade, jerking it back, but Trystan held on. Her magic was waning. He could feel it. Her look of puzzlement soon turned to anger as Trystan rolled his shoulder forward, still very much holding his sword, and pointed it her way just as she lunged for him. He didn’t have time to avoid her hurtling body. The look of surprise was still clear on her face as the blade sliced through her chest, killing her instantly.

Trystan fought against the wave of disgust and nausea rolling over him as he extracted his bloody blade. The woman slumped to the ground, her wide eyes staring at the sky. In death she appeared younger, so much more like Rissa. And he’d killed her. His hands trembled as he tore his gaze away from the woman’s bloody corpse and looked around.

Death and carnage were everywhere. His people as well as the bodies of Dreach-Dhoun soldiers littered the blood-soaked ground. His horrified eyes stopped on a young man dressed in Dreach-Sciene colors, blood oozing from the wound at his neck. He recognized the still face. He’d spoken to him just last night. A farmer’s lad. Newly married and a child on the way. A child he’d never see. A child that would go through life never knowing its father.

Trystan wiped at the wetness gathering in his eyes. This was Calis’ fault. This whole darned, unnecessary war. These people were dying because of the mad king’s need for revenge and power. It had to end. Calis had to be stopped.

A shadow fell over him and Trystan reacted on instinct, his blade blocking the sword slashing his way. He was almost too late. The blade nicked his cheek and Trystan felt the pain as his flesh was cut all the way up to his temple. He pushed back at the soldier dredging up an ounce of his own magic. The soldier stumbled back and Trystan darted in quick as a snake and tried to kick the soldier’s feet away, but the gust of magic from the man's upturned palm caught him unaware and blew his feet out from under him instead. Trystan landed on his back, the man hovering over him and his blade glinting in the bright sun as he lifted it high above his head, preparing to strike.

The blast of magic took the soldier by surprise. Trystan watched as the man’s face went blank, then paled as he dropped the sword and keeled over, writhing in pain. Lonara rushed past the incapacitated soldier and joined Trystan, her face a mask of concern.

“You are hurt, sire,” she said as she observed his bloody cheek.

“I’ll live, Lona.” He glanced around. “Unlike most of our troops. Too many of our people are dying. We need to find Calis. It’s the only way to stop this. I know he’s on this battlefield somewhere. Can you track his magic?”

She nodded. “It will take powerful magic and all my concentration, but yes. Keep them off me.”

Trystan grunted in response as Lonara sank to her knees and dug her fingers into the red soil. As if Calis’ army knew what she was trying to do, four soldiers barreled their way, their faces full of malicious intent. Trystan took a stance and wiped the blood dripping into his eye with his sleeve. Four against one. Not his lucky day.

As the first blade came crashing against his, he blocked it and kicked at the soldier’s gut, sending him off balance. He whirled and thrust his blade again, taking the second guard through the throat and leaving him gagging on his own blood as he turned to the third. He was quick, but this soldier was quicker. He slashed at Trystan’s chest and Trystan grunted as the blow sent him stumbling back. Recovering quickly, he barreled into the soldier trying to get close to Lonara. They both crashed to the ground, the soldier managing to roll at the last moment and land atop Trystan, his blade at his neck.

Before Trystan could react, the soldier was yanked off and his spilt blood splashed across Trystan’s plate mail. A hand appeared as Davi hovered over him, a tiny smile flitting about his lips.

“Looks like you could use a hand, brother.”

Davi yanked Trystan to his feet as Trystan’s eyes searched for Lonara and found Avery and Alixa standing back-to-back, protecting the Tri-Gard member from any harm. Her eyes caught his, and she leapt to her feet.

“This way,” she yelled over the din. She’d found Calis.

“With me,” Trystan yelled over his shoulder, and whatever Dreach-Sciene soldier within distance fell in line behind their king.

They battled their way through a sea of legionnaires and flailing swords, Lonara and Davi’s power helped cut a path. They found Calis in the middle of his men, a circle of open space between him and the battle. He was standing, eyes closed and arms spread, cocooned in a bubble of protection. Trystan could see the magic emanating from him like heat ripples on a hot day. Hate for the man himself and his cowardly actions bubbled in Trystan’s chest, making his voice raw with anger.

“What is he doing?” Trystan asked and Lonara was the one to answer.

“I think he’s allotting magic to his people, providing them strength.”

“Break his barrier, Lona. This needs to end today.”

Whether through brute strength or the fact that they caught Calis unaware, Lonara did just that. The magic barrier broke like shattered glass and Cali’s eyes popped open at the intrusion.

“Davion,” he cried in surprise just as Trystan hurled himself at him with a roar.

The mad king reacted quickly. The blast of magic he channeled Trystan’s way seared everything in its path with flames of fire, threatening to burn Trystan alive.

“No!” Davi yelled, directing his own magic at the threatening flames. The two blasts collided in front of Trystan’s face with the power of a black powder explosion. Trystan flew off his feet and sailed back through the air, his very breath sucked from his lungs. He landed hard, his head reeling from the explosion and his ears ringing, deafening him to any other sound.

He watched from his knees as Calis sent Davi a look of disappointment before surrounding himself in a cloak of magic and disappearing into the surge of army heading their way.

Trystan struggled to his feet, his head swimming and tilting dangerously to the side. A Dreach-Dhoun soldier hurtled his way, sword outstretched. Trystan searched in desperation for his weapon but he’d lost hold of it in the explosion. The soldier was almost on top of him now and Trystan tried a last vain attempt to draw magic. He needed to protect himself somehow. He didn’t need the magic. The soldier fell under Avery’s blade as she fought her way toward her king’s side.

“Your Majesty.” Her voice sounded far off, like she was calling to him from a deep well. He shook his head, trying to stay conscious. Blood was gushing heavily from his wound and he knew passing out meant certain death. He needed to stay awake. If only his body would listen. Avery reached him just as he tottered. But instead of holding him up, she shoved him hard, causing him to stumble to his knees again. He peered up at her as the arrow meant for him buzzed over his head.

Avery staggered back, lifting a hand to her throat. Trystan’s puzzlement quickly turned to horror at the embedded arrow and the line of blood running down the sword master’s neck into her armor. Her eyes locked with Trystan’s, calm as always but tinged with sadness. Hair plastered to her head and chest heaving, she reached out a hand, her lips moving as if to say something. Instead, a shuddering breath racked her body, and her sword dropped from her hand as she fell to her knees.

Trystan crawled her way, trying to reach his old friend. She landed face first into the soil sending a puff of dust into the air as a pool of crimson surrounded her head like a dark halo.

“Avery!” he yelled, his voice sharp as broken glass with his grief, but she was beyond hearing him. She was beyond anything. He realized the heartbreaking truth as he fought to avoid the darkness threatening to overtake him. Death had opened the last portal for Avery, from which there was no return.

He stared at her lifeless form in shock. That wasn’t Avery. Couldn’t be. His fearless sword master. The woman who’d served Marissa Kane until her death. His teacher who’d joined him on the quest no questions asked.

She couldn’t be… gone.

Rissa’s words entered his mind.

The sacrifices required of us, the things that destroy us, may just save everyone else.

“Trystan!” Alixa yelled. “Get up.”

“In case you didn’t notice…” Davi ducked away from an arrow that flew past his head. “There’s a battle going on.”

Trystan jumped to his feet and used a move Avery taught him to block a black-clad soldier’s attempt to take his head off. Thank you, teacher.

Another volley of arrows took flight, but their paths lacked the strength of the ones before.

“They’re weakening.” Trystan lifted his eyes to the fortress as a new wave of soldiers rushed from the heavy iron gates. “We have to get into that stronghold.”

Because he was suddenly sure without a doubt that was where they’d find Calis Bearne and Briggs Villard.

The only way to end this was to face them.

* * *

A horn sounded. The village troops had arrived. The Dreach-Dhoun people who were not part of the legions.

The ones who’d chosen Calis’ side despite years of oppression.

They were late, but they’d come.

Davi jerked his head up to watch them crest the hill. They stopped and didn’t move.

Trystan appeared at his side, wiping blood from his face, and heaved out a breath. “We have to get inside Cullenspire.”

“The tunnels?”

“No. They’re too long and we’d have to fight through too many men inside the stronghold.”

Davi met Trystan’s eyes, noticing the danger sparking in their depths. “You want to blow the gate.” He shook his head. “It’ll use too much of our limited magic, ruining the entire plan you’ve set in motion.”

“We have to get inside, Dav.”

Davi ran a blood-stained hand through his sticky hair. “I’ll follow you in anything. You know that.”

One side of Trystan’s mouth curved sadly up as Davi formed up with him.

“Alixa, Lonara,” Trystan called. “New plan. With me!”

The four of them cut a path through the sea of soldiers until they reached the gate. It looked as though it had been hastily repaired recently and Davi knew instantly, this was how his father got in to overtake Wren.

He barely knew Wren, but he sent a silent thought into the atmosphere. Wren might be dead, but Dreach-Dhoun would not have his home.

Soldiers yelled from atop the wall as they leaned buckets over to pour boiling pitch from the heavens.

Davi jumped back to avoid the bubbling tar.

“Where’s my sister?” Trystan yelled as he sliced through a man who was obviously drained of his magic.

Davi shook his head. He’d tried to keep Rissa in his sight, but she’d stuck with Ramsey and Lorelai as they tried to keep some sort of shield in place.

Worry gnawed at him. The shield had fallen quickly, and he didn’t want to think about what that could mean.

Rion sprinted toward them, deep red blood spattered across his face. “Your Majesty. We’re taking heavy losses. We can’t keep this up. Our soldiers are no match.”

Trystan drew himself up. “They have to, Rion. There is no other choice. We cannot retreat.”

Lonara’s gaze scanned the heavy gates. “I need someone else to do this, Your Majesty. I must save my magic for Briggs.”

As she spoke, Davi caught sight of a flash of red hair. Relief spread through him. Rissa whirled, bow in hand, taking out enemy soldiers before they could get close enough to hurt her.

Her mouth was set in a grim line as she loosed another arrow.

“Rissa!”

She jerked her head up.

A row of soldiers stood between them. Rissa straightened and threw her hand out in front of her. The soldiers were lifted off their feet and thrown to the side to create a clear path.

Rissa sprinted toward them and flicked her eyes to the gate. With no explanation, she nodded. “Stand guard.”

Trystan and Alixa turned their backs to each other and held their swords aloft.

But Davi didn’t leave Ri’s side. He may not hold as much power as her, but he could help.

Rissa clenched her jaw in concentration and her body jerked forward as she threw a wall of pure power toward the stone.

A boom cracked through the air.

Davi joined her, drawing on every bit of magic he had inside. He hurled it toward the wall in sync with Rissa.

The stones shuddered and shifted.

More boiling pitch streamed down from above, coating Cullenspire manor in darkness.

Davi and Rissa didn’t stop.

Each bit of power he released depleted him more until he could barely lift his arms. If someone attacked him, he’d stand no chance.

Still, Rissa persisted.

A fissure started near the top of the gate.

“Again!” Rissa yelled.

But Davi had nothing left.

Rissa lifted her hands and the gate burst inward, sending rock raining down on all those near.

Rissa’s shoulders slumped.

A horn sounded again, and Davi had just enough energy to peer over his shoulder. The village troops barreled toward Dreach-Sciene’s farthest lines.

They’d overwhelm them in moments. It was almost over.

Trystan’s panicked eyes found his. “We have to find Calis.”

How were they supposed to defeat Calis when they found him? Lonara and Ramsey had to deal with Briggs. Rissa used all her magic just to take down the gates.

And now a second army threatened to collide with their dying one.

They’d lost.

How could Trystan not see that?

The two armies crashed together and Trystan prepared to run into the stronghold where Calis was. Legionnaires poured through the now destroyed gate but stopped as they saw the sight first.

The village army wasn’t fighting Dreach-Sciene. They raised their swords only against those in black armor.

Trystan, a new strength in his eyes, raised his sword. “Charge!” He ran toward the blown gate and jumped into a fight with the legionnaires. Dreach-Sciene followed their king, hope once again existing in their minds.

Davi lifted his sword, all exhaustion fading away as adrenaline kicked in. He ran after Rissa.

“Dreach-Sciene!” Trystan yelled. “Use your magic!”

The Dreach-Dhoun soldiers were drained of all power, the emptiness forcing a weight into their limbs.

Davi slammed his shoulder into a woman as she yelled orders and he tumbled to the ground on top of her. He rolled off and jumped to his feet. The woman leaped up, knife in hand.

Her eyes went wide as a rusted blade appeared protruding from her chest.

Blood ran from her mouth as she slid forward off the sword, revealing the man behind her.

Wren’s crazed eyes stared back at him.

“Thought you were dead!” Davi yelled over the grunts and clashes of steel behind him.

“Long story,” he responded. “Come on, Calis is upstairs.”

Trystan caught sight of them. “Wren, earth, it’s good to see you. Mira?”

“Alive.” He grit his teeth. “Calis has her.”

Another wave of Dreach-Sciene soldiers pushed into the stronghold, their remaining magic evening the fight with the weakened enemy soldiers who outnumbered them. When no more Dreach-Dhoun soldiers stood in the courtyard of Cullenspire, Trystan sucked in a breath.

Ramsey’s head popped up among the Dreach-Sciene men guarding the gate.

Davi scanned those present. Many of their people continued to fight outside the stronghold. But his eyes found Lonara, Lorelai, Alixa, and Rissa.

Trystan seemed to be looking in the same direction. “Lonara, Briggs, with me.” He sprinted for the stairs just as more soldiers in black poured from the upper floors.

Calis’ unmistakable voice boomed throughout the hall. “Bring them to me!”

Davi fought with everything he had left, and he knew it still might not be enough. The Dreach-Dhoun soldiers pushed them back into the courtyard.

Calis and Briggs appeared as a line of enemy soldiers circled the Dreach-Sciene fighters who’d entered the fortress.

Calis’ lip curled and Davi knew instantly. His father still had magic stored in his body.

He saw the flick of his father’s hand an instant before chaos broke free and a spear of power was aimed directly for Rissa.

Davi leaped through the air, colliding with her hardened body. The magic pierced his side, sending a searing pain into every part of him.

He screamed.

“Davi,” Rissa yelled.

He couldn’t hear anything that happened next, but he saw every motion.

Briggs held a ball of fire in one hand before throwing it toward Trystan. He hurled them in every direction, sending flames stretching across the courtyard.

A scream ripped through the air. Alixa. Briggs’ magic pierced through her. The flame was easily put out, but the power behind it tore through her skin. A gouge opened in her side, letting the blood pour through as she collapsed to the ground.

Trystan tried to run for her, but Briggs’ held him in place.

Lonara and Ramsey advanced on their fellow Tri-Gard member, but he waved every bit of their power away.

Briggs picked up a spear and everyone jumped into motion. Still Davi couldn’t move as the pain held him captive. He couldn’t roll out of the way as Briggs aimed the spear.

He couldn’t even flinch as it sailed through the air with every bit of strength Briggs’ magic held. Rissa, Lonara, and Ramsey threw their own power toward the spear to stop its momentum, but their power couldn’t match Briggs’.

Davi met Rissa’s eyes as she tried to stop it. To prevent the inevitable.

Sacrifice.

It was all they’d ever known.

And it seemed it was all they’d ever get.

I get to be in love with you forever—even after I’ve joined with the earth. Tomorrow could be the end of a lot of things, but not that. Never that.

He closed his eyes, wanting Rissa’s words to be the only thing in his mind.

A body collapsed beside him and he snapped his eyes open, the world crashing back into focus around him.

“Davi.” Rissa squeezed out from under him and rolled him over.

How had Briggs missed?

Then he felt the blood inching toward him and he shifted his eyes. Calis Bearne laid unmoving in front of him. His father.

The pain faded from Davi’s limbs, traveling to his heart instead.

“Father?” He rolled to his side and scrambled to his knees. “Father.”

The spear had torn straight through Calis Bearne’s torso, the shaft leaving a hole behind. His wide eyes stared at the sky as if still in shock.

Ramsey and Lonara were locked in a magical duel with Briggs, but all Davi could see was his father who’d just given his life to save him.

He had proven in the last moment of his life there was something more important to him than power.

Rissa put a hand on Davi’s back and he turned to clutch her to him, half in relief to still be with her and half in grief over a father he wasn’t sure he was allowed to grieve.

She clutched him, her own sobs matching his.

“You’re still here,” she whispered.

A blast of power shook the stronghold, bringing dust down upon them.

Davi watched Lonara and Ramsey fight as Lorelai ran into the room and froze when she saw Calis.

“Oh, my earth,” she whispered. “Davi… who managed to…” She couldn’t finish her question.

Davi glanced at his father once more. “He saved me.”

She swallowed thickly.

“Lorelai,” Ramsey called. “If you still have power, we could use some help.”

Lorelai twisted her hand and sent a tunnel of air to slam Briggs up against the wall, pinning him there.

Ramsey looked to Lonara. “Now!”

They advanced as one, sending their magic straight into his chest.

“The Tri-Gard is broken,” they chanted. “Take our pieces and make us new.”

“No!” Briggs roared, expelling his power in every direction to save himself.

Lorelai made no sound as Brigg’s last effort at freedom struck her in the chest, cutting off all air. She fell back, clutching at her neck, her skin turning ashen, before collapsing to the side.

Briggs’ faced seemed to grow even older as he withered right in front of them.

Davi’s jaw hung open as Lonara and Ramsey snapped their magic back and the husk that had once been Briggs Villard fell to the ground before exploding into dust.