“I don’t know if I can defeat him,” Abigail said. “He’s too powerful.”
Capricorn reached up to her crown and removed the teardrop stone, then lifted the sea emerald that hung around Abigail’s neck. She pressed the teardrop into the sea emerald. Instantly, a bright light shone out.
“Your mother’s gift has great power. Use it wisely,” the sea queen said, and then with a flick of her tail, the bubble burst, and she was gone.
As Abigail floated, her fingers went to her throat. The white stone sat in the center of the sea emerald, blazing with white light. Energy zinged through her veins. With a strong kick, she swam upward and broke the surface of the water. Starfire swooped down, and she grabbed his wing and hauled herself onto his back.
“Let’s finish this,” she said.
Chapter 28
By the time Abigail reached the open field in front of the gates of Skara Brae, much had changed. Two of the giants had been knocked down by clever Balfins who’d tied ropes around their ankles. The rest of the Balfin army was attacking the walls of the fortress, barely held back by the Orkadian Guard. Swords clanged in the air, ringed by the shouts of the men and women fighting bravely.
Vertulious flew around Utgard-Loki, sending bolt after bolt of lightning at the giant, who staggered backward, fending off the attacks with the head of the hammer.
Abigail set Starfire down and slid off his back. She placed the spellbook on the ground and called up a ball of witchfire. The witchfire wasn’t green. It wasn’t blue—not even purple. It was a dazzling white, and it burned brighter than anything she had ever seen.
She cocked her arm back and threw it straight at the awful shreek-Omera she had helped create. It let out a high-pitched scream as the white fire engulfed it. Its wings collapsed, sending it tumbling to the ground. Vertulious managed to leap clear, but the shreek-Omera was finished.
Power hummed in Abigail’s veins. “Surrender,” she called out, “or I will destroy you.”
Vertulious responded with a blast of witchfire mixed with thunder. She deflected the first attack with one of her own, but a second blast followed so fast she took a hit that sent her flying. She rolled in the dirt, but Vertulious wasn’t finished. He sent another blast, advancing on her. Abigail scrambled back, but the witchfire singed her arm. Another blast burned her leg. She kept trying to get a blast off, but he was relentless.
Robert dashed in, swinging something around his head. Small stones lifted off the ground and pelted Vertulious, turning his attention away from Abigail. Robert was swinging his pouch, she realized, the one that held Odin’s Stone. The stone must contain some residual magic. He swung it harder, driving Vertulious back three steps before the he-witch sent the boy hurtling through the air with a curt wave of his hand.
Still, it gave Abigail time to recover and get off her own blast. It hit Vertulious on the shoulder, making him flinch. He crossed Thor’s gauntlets together, and searing lightning erupted from his fingers. The lightning forked across the field, trapping her in its embrace. Her body lifted off the ground, held in the powerful charge. Pain flared as every nerve cell ignited. Her jaw clenched as she tried to fight it, to break the field of energy around her, but she was failing.
And then something blocked the lightning. It was Hugo. He had run out onto the field with a shield and stepped into the blast. It blew him sideways, but not before he’d deflected the lightning back at Vertulious, forcing the he-witch to dive to the side.
Glorian stood over Abigail and thrust her hand out. “Get up.”
“I can’t do it.” Abigail blinked back tears. “I can’t defeat him.”
“You’re Abigail Tarkana. You’re the Curse Breaker. Everyone knows it. So get up.”
Abigail let the girl help her to her feet. Her body trembled with pain, and her knees wobbled.
“What do you need?” Glorian asked.
“Witchfire. Lots of it.” Abigail took a shaky breath.
Glorian took a stand at her side, hands raised. Safina appeared at her other side, digging the toe of her boot in the dirt. “I’ll help.”
On Glorian’s right, Nelly slunk up. “No one messes with the coven,” she said, clenching her taloned fingers.
Abigail’s spirits fluttered. Maybe. Just maybe …
“Together on my count,” she said.
“On my count,” a cool voice interjected. Endera stepped up, elbowing in beside her. “Don’t be so bossy, Abigail.”
If things hadn’t been so serious, Abigail might have smiled.
Across the field, Vertulious shook with laughter. “Do you really think a pathetic band of witchlings can stop me? The greatest he-witch to ever live?” He stalked forward. “I will incinerate you where you stand.” He put his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle. The battle halted as the Balfin army lowered their weapons and the witches landed their Omeras. On the rampart walls, the Orkadians lined up, watching.
“Let this be a lesson to any who challenge me,” he called. “Witness my power and surrender now before I obliterate you from existence.” Vertulious cracked his neck to the side, drawing his hands together, and thrust them out. A ball of witchfire appeared in front of him, growing larger and larger until it rose above their heads. He crossed the gauntlets, and the ball filled with crackling lightning.
Endera called up a ball of witchfire. “Ready?”
“Oh, yeah,” Nelly said, calling up her own.
The witchlings each called up a ball of witchfire, joining it with Endera’s to form a large ball of witchfire. Abigail added hers last, the white fire mixing with the green.
“And now you will perish.” The he-witch threw his hands forward.
“Now!” Endera shouted, and the witchlings threw their hands forward.
The two enormous balls of witchfire flew across the field and met in the center. His easily overtook theirs, pushing it back toward them. The heat of its core washed over them.
They kept up a steady stream of witchfire, but the ball of witchfire was inching closer and closer to them.
“More!” Abigail cried. “We need more.”
Blistering heat made her break out into a sweat. Any second now and it would consume them.
Next to her, Safina began to recite loudly. “A witch’s heart is made of stone. Cold as winter, I cut to the bone.”
The ball of witchfire moved forward away from them a few inches.
Nelly joined in, her voice strained. “My witch’s soul is black as tar, forged in darkness to leave a scar.”
Their witchfire grew larger, gaining another inch toward Vertulious.
“My witch’s blood, it burns with power.” Sweat poured down Glorian’s face. “Cross me not, or you will cower.”
A surge of energy rushed through Abigail. It was working. Their witchfire was growing with every verse.
“My witch’s hands will conjure evil,” Endera said. “I plot and plan. I’m quite deceitful.” She stomped her front foot, straining harder as the witchfire poured from their hands into the glowing mass that stood between them.
The two balls of witchfire were equal in size now. Hope made a crazy dance along Abigail’s spine as she said the final verse. “My witch’s tongue will speak a curse, to bring you misery and so … much … worse.”