Enchanter's Echo (39 page)

The roar exploded inside him, a living wrath. This enemy had crept into his enchantress’s heart and hidden there. She’d inflicted her monstrous cruelty from a place of goodness. She’d annihilated them all, rendering upon them a slow death.

Doom pressed against him with an invincible hand, crushing all hope. Except for one. Hope for Aurora. His enchantress would live. He would save her. He must save her.

“Aurora! What did you think you were going to do?” Gwyn looked over Aurora’s shoulder and peered down at her. “Put your hands in the hole and plug it up? Give me a break! Not even your hands can fix this.”

Edmund reached for his vibes, but it was like searching for a single snowflake in a blizzard. He could search for a lifetime and never find them. Why had he even walked in here?

No vibes. No line of sight on the gun. He had nothing.

“But look what I can do!” Gwyn bragged.

He felt the bond give. Once, twice, again. Three streams of power ripped from Rallis control, like slashes in his psyche. One fissure hovered an inch in front of him. The other two cut diagonal lines at his sides. All three intersected, pinning him to the wall. Gwyn could empty the gun into Aurora’s head before he could get out. He was trapped. Helpless.

He glared at his enemy. “That was unnecessary.” He stood straight, barely breathing. “My power isn’t exactly at my fingertips at the moment.” The roar let him speak, unable to take his one hope that she would live. He would send her to the far corners of the Republic. Somewhere in a quiet forest with canopies that would dance with the sunshine and filter it down gently, lighting her life with beauty.

He’d never been worthy.

She deserved kindness and love and, he would do his fucking damnedest to make it happen. To shelter her from the coming catastrophe. Rallis would fall. There was no stopping it now, not with the damage to the mark. War would have its day, seizing as much of the Republic as possible from the arms of peace. This was what the High Councilor had foreseen.

But he would find Aurora shelter...call in every favor, promise hauntings from hell. He would arm Aurora with every weapon he could foster on her to protect herself. He’d make her take them. Somehow. He almost sank to his knees at the uselessness of that prospect. His enchantress would never raise a weapon to protect herself.

The roar grew. Helpless outrage burned and clawed. His bones morphed, melding with the roar, becoming something else, as if he, too, might become a beast as the old crone had done. But it did not strengthen him. Not under this deluge of power that washed away every vibe as if he were a new babe as yet untouched by the goddess.

“Oh,” Gwyn simpered. “Is the poor little prince all out of vibes?” She tsked. “Great mage strength is not always a blessing. I, for one, am feeling lovely.” She stroked Aurora’s cheek with the gun before returning it to the back of her neck. “How are you feeling, enchantress?”

“Sad.” Aurora’s honesty slammed against his heart.

“Boo hoo. What do you have to cry about? You escaped a death chamber. Plus I gave you such a sweet present. That crossbow made your man truly yours. Too bad you didn’t peek under that cloth.”

“Why, Gwynnie?” Aurora’s voice squeaked with tears.

“Seriously? You have to ask? Rallis is going down. Noble is going up. Did you think I’d really abandon my territory? Took me almost a year, but I’ve finally…finally…brought down the borders.” She shook her head with a laugh. “I can’t believe you thought it was poor Justin Wasten doing all this.”

“How do you know that?” Aurora asked in a shaky voice.

Gwyn pitched her voice high in a mean imitation, “Gwyn usually opens the shop for me when I’m late.” She changed back to normal tones. “I was there that morning. I opened the shop like the good friend you thought I was. I just stayed in your workshop with the door closed most of the time. I hate the customers. So many stupid problems. And you and that toaster.” She cracked a laugh again. “What a hoot! You were too stupid to recognize what I’d done to it. Kept ya busy though. And I certainly needed you occupied. I had a bond to rip. Making the fissures bigger was impossible though.”

Gwyn continued, “They helped damage the Rallis reputation, but that wasn’t enough. Draining the mark will take care of the bond for good. Thank you for telling me about the mark’s tunnel. And for the fireworks charms. Merida is right. They are dangerous. According to my sister, Rallis Territory has shrunk by a mile on the Noble side and five miles on the Warren side. It took a few days to get going, but now the borders are starting to collapse.”

She gave another laugh. “Noble will claim Rallis’s land since they aren’t strong enough to hold it after all.”

“Won’t work,” Edmund stayed stiff against the cave’s stone. “You won’t be able to reestablish a mark with so many mages, so much power already dwelling here. Your plan dooms everyone to die of sense sickness.”

Gwyn shrugged. “Once everyone is dead, there won’t be a problem with too much mage energy clogging up the land, will there? That will be the perfect time to claim the land. Don’t worry, Monday, someday your old territory will be repopulated with mages. Noble mages.”

“Gwyn,” Aurora’s whisper was high and breathy. “We’re friends. We’ve been through so much together. We built homes in the forest—”

“Oh, please. We’re not friends.” Gwyn’s gun arm jabbed forward. Aurora cried out as the barrel of the gun poked deep into her neck.

Edmund made a fist, instinct. Throwing power—a simple spell. Yet his hand was empty of vibes. Weaponless.

Gwyn smiled. “How are those fissures?” She winked. “I’m bored. Let’s have some fun.” She yanked Aurora back against her body, moved the gun to her front and fired at the curved wall. The bullet hit the stone with a resounding bang and skipped. One wall to another.

He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t track it.

Three sharp cracks. The echo rolled through the chamber. Rock shards ruptured and scattered. He couldn’t breathe. And he couldn’t take his eyes off Aurora.

Her pale, smooth skin was struck lightning fast. She flinched. His heart stopped as blood speckled her face. Multiple cuts, shallow and short, welled up.

A spray of rocks from the skip. Not the bullet.

A tear dripped from her eye and fell among her blood, trailing pink down her face.

Gwyn huddled behind Aurora. A beloved shield. “Woo hoo! Come on. What’s the matter? Can’t you catch, Rallis? Shame.” She leaned her chin on Aurora’s shoulder and pointed the gun at him. Its black eye of death targeted his heart.

Aurora’s wide gaze bounced from him to the gun. Her chest puffed up and down beneath the pink coat. “Please, don’t.” Helpless desperation drenched her tone. The roar sucked down her fear and feasted.

Gwyn shrugged. “You’re not much fun to play with, Monday. I guess I’ll go play with your brother. He’s outside waiting. I’m going to surprise him, but not before I kill you. And since my sister is now High Councilor, the pardon will be immediate. Bye!”

As Gwyn pulled the trigger, Aurora shot out her hand and touched the gun. The crack of the bullet exploded through the air. A cloud of glitter formed and parted, exploding out to the sides of the chamber—the bullet, morphed by an enchantress. Gwyn screamed in rage. She pulled the trigger again, but its impotent clicks couldn’t even echo.

Baring her teeth, Gwyn thrust an elbow into Aurora’s neck. Edmund slid down the wall and lunged under the fissures. Fueled with an unleashed rage, he charged hard. One good chance. It took too much strength to move under the flood of the mark’s power and he didn’t have enough for a fight. Not even against a girl. He crashed into her, took her down. Her head banged against the stone wall. Landing on top of her, the fall jarred his bones. One good charge. He’d done it.

He rolled off the bitch and grabbed the collar of her coat. His hand met blood. Gwyn groaned. Not dead. Not yet. He bared his teeth at the satisfaction to come as he crawled across the floor, dragging her with him. Ten feet felt like fifty. But every inch was that much closer to his strength, to his vibes, to letting the roar free to act.

Just beyond the entrance of the chamber, he stood. Though still inundated by the leaking power, the intensity eased. His muscles regained enough strength to stand.

He looked back. Aurora laid on her side, facing him, knees huddled toward her chest. She stared at him. He should have touched her before he’d left the chamber, but he would have had one hand on his enemy and the other on his love, a contaminating caress. He couldn’t even tell her he loved her. Not in this enemy’s presence.

He didn’t want to leave her. Neither did he want her to witness Gwyn’s death. The roar grinned at the thought of his enemy dying.

“Don’t.” Aurora’s order resonated through the chamber. “Don’t kill her.”

He shook his head. “I cannot let this stand.” Rallis would fall. So would this enemy.

Sorrow pulled at her eyes. She sat up, her pink coat whispering with her movement. Her profile to him, her cheeks glowed under the mage light. Black dotted her face where the blood dried. “Please, don’t.” The same words she’d said to Gwyn…the same desperation.

This was what it meant to hold an enchantress’s heart, anchored to life. To turn his back on it was to turn from her.

“I’ll come back for you.” His low, growled words rumbled through his chest. She turned her head away, her hair covered in the dust of bullets turned to glitter clouds. She lifted her hand and pushed through the air. The mage light danced down the cave, leading him to its opening. Aurora cast another light, replacing his.

He watched her, waited for a moment longer. She did not turn his way. But she was alive. He clung to that.

He wore a giant’s body with a mortal’s strength as he lumbered down the corridor, dragging his defeated foe and carrying a roar without end for his vanquished land.

His brother and Gregor waited at the mouth of the cave. Edmund rested his gaze on the captain. The man wouldn’t have risen so high as a warrior if he didn’t have a ruthless streak, a willingness to kill. And yet he’d thought to provide Aurora with food. A goddess damn bag of muffins. He might have laughed, but there was no lightness left in his soul, only the roar, pressing and pushing from the dark depths of his spirit.

It wasn’t enough to go by, but it was all he had.

He had to save her. To send her away. Protect her.

Give her to another man.

The roar screamed. His ears popped from the silent pressure, loosening something in his mind.

He turned to his brother. He dropped Gwyn and kicked her toward Vin. She didn’t roll far. “Take her. She’s still alive.” He waited until Vin looked up at him, shifting his eyes from their enemy. “Keep her that way.” His brother’s face didn’t register his words. Understandable. The words made no sense, but it wasn’t important.
Aurora was important. The only one who mattered anymore.

He would hold her hand as she walked through this life. He would reach from his place in the next world and keep her safe and warm. The roar seized around him, gripping his heart, threatening to crush it to pieces. But it was her heart, and the roar could not hold what did not belong to it.

He stared at Vin. “The mark is dying. Nothing can stop it.”

Vin’s face blanked, draining, and then it, too, changed. It was odd to watch, like looking in a mirror of the past few minutes. Yes. The roar sparked inside Vin, too. Edmund shifted his eyes back to Gregor. “You. Come with me.”

She would live.

He turned his back on them and strode into the goblins’ cave. Gregor closed in behind him. The roar felt his presence.

“What territory are you from?” Edmund asked, focused.

“Standish.”

Perfect. A cruel family ruled there. They fought fiercely. He’d send Gregor with his love back to that northern-most territory on the Atlantic. It bordered Canada. An escape if they needed it. The ocean was another. They could flee to the other continent. “Do you have anything of value?”

“Sir?”

“Money. Anything of value. Anything you could barter.”

“I have my tomes.”

Edmund stopped and spun around. The mage light bobbed behind him, spotlighting the other man’s face. Every mage had tomes, ones specific to the true power he carried. “That’s it?”

The captain shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m a simple man, sir.”

Edmund spun back around. No matter. He’d ensure the man was stocked with everything that could possibly be of value or use in an apocalypse no one had foreseen. Except one person. “Weapons, though. You have those.”

“With all due respect, sir, I would never barter my weapons.”

Edmund nodded, satisfied, and turned back. As he strode down the cave, he sensed the fissures’ disappearance. Even beneath the torrent of the mark’s power, she’d fixed them.

He stopped as he came to the chamber’s opening, just before the horrid energy. She knelt on the floor, head tilted down, her hair falling over her shoulder. He was going to kiss her and hold her hand and send her away. She’d live and, goddess willing, she’d thrive. He would stay and escort his land into death.

The gun lay in front of her. She stared down at it, her golden hammer in her hand.

“You don’t need to touch that,” he said.

“I know.”

“Come to me, Aurora.” He couldn’t go in. He wouldn’t have the strength to walk back out.

She rubbed one hand over the air surrounding the gun as if sensing its aura. “In a minute.”

He didn’t have a minute. He had no time, no minutes, no seconds, none that wasn’t accounted for. Every moment was already filled with losing her.

She lifted the hammer and struck the gun. A high-pitched ding rang out, a harmonic tone that repeated over and over. He waited as she flattened the gun with her enchanted tool. A minute of his precious time gone.

She stood, carrying the newly formed sheet of thin, dark metal and her hammer, and then walked farther into the chamber, away from him, stealing his seconds. She held the dented metal against the edge of the hole as if the thousands of pounds of energy flooding forth were nothing to her strength. The enchanted tool made quick work of spelling the metal into place against the rock wall.