I hesitated outside the doors to find every possible bit of Endrick’s power that I could identify within myself. There was so much he could do that I’d never known. He could temporarily slow time and detect when someone was lying. He had dozens of powers still unexplored, or that he considered unnecessary for his reign. What little I already knew of his abilities made him far more powerful than I had suspected.
When I was queen, it might take years to understand it all. I intended to use every moment expanding my kingdom, or making the countries that had wronged me pay dearly. I’d start with the Brill. With what was left of them.
After that, my expansion of power would never end, never diminish. For once I finished with Joth, I would be immortal.
He was about to regret everything he had done to me.
At my command, the doors flung open, and I marched through them with Harlyn’s sword in hand. Joth must have known I was coming, for he stood at the base of the stairs to the Scarlet Throne, without any visible weapon but looking as if he’d been waiting for me.
If he expected a fight, I’d bring a battle, or the whole war, if necessary. I’d be a hurricane against his storm, iron for his tin. Whatever he thought of me, I would be stronger and fiercer. Faster than he could think, darker than he could see, and unafraid of the worst that he might bring.
In my previous battle with Endrick, chunks of the ceiling had fallen, but now, with a single glance of my eyes, other pieces fell, large metal squares directly above where Joth stood. Using the same magic, he halted the pieces in midair, then fluttered his fingers until they fell like snow around him. He gathered them together and began to raise a wall as his barricade. I charged forward, hoping to get to him before the wall was formed, but when I got too near, he merely pushed the wall toward me.
I saw it tilt, then placed the sword directly in front of me, blade up. The wall fell as intended but split in half exactly across the sword, leaving two metal slabs on either side of me.
Joth’s face tightened into a grimace. “You have no more claim upon this throne than I do.”
“I think you meant to say that you have no claim upon this throne whatsoever.”
He raised his hand, brushing his fingers together as if sparks of magic should somehow appear there. “Without my magic, Endrick would still be alive. So I believe I have some claim.”
I didn’t flinch. “Kneel to me now, Joth. It is the only way you will survive this.”
He smiled. “I think that you meant to say I am the only one who will survive this.”
Using the same magic Endrick had used against me multiple times, I willed his body to kneel. He did so but crouched lower and pressed his hands flat on the marble floor, which rippled away and knocked me off my feet. Once I fell, he darted for me, but I struck at him with Harlyn’s sword, getting in a slice deep enough across his lower legs that he cried out and fell forward.
He was closer now and grabbed my arm at the same time as I put a hand on his shoulder. This time I was ready, and began pulling strength from him as quickly as I could. He was doing the same, so I began searching for his powers.
“How dare you?” he snarled. “How dare you try to take my magic, after all I’ve done to get you this far?”
“It isn’t your magic, or mine,” I replied. “This is fire, and either you or I will burn with it.”
I used my free hand to reach up toward the chandelier directly overhead. I pulled it down, steering it so that it landed directly on Joth, barely missing me and crashing across his entire body. His hand that had been holding me released and went lax.
I rolled away, breathless from the energy I’d exerted, and studied Joth’s arm for any sign of movement.
When I saw none, I stood and backed away, trying to figure out what I should do next, whether this could possibly be over so easily.
Turning around the room in hopes of sensing anyone else who was here with me, I asked the half-lives, “Is he dead? I need to know—”
My answer came when I happened to see Joth’s hand form into a fist, and then the fingers flew apart. I was slammed backward, skidding along the floor. Behind me, every window along the room’s glass wall shattered with a violence that shook the building.
I started to get up, then felt a sharp pain in my leg and my head swam with dizziness. Looking down, I realized a shard of the glass had lodged in my thigh. I tried to pull it out, but I was weaker than before, and it was in deep. The edges of the glass cut my hands and even the slightest tug made me cry out in pain.
Joth emerged from beneath the chandelier as if it too were made of dust. “That must hurt,” he said, rubbing his hands together as if to gather his strength.
“It’s easier to tolerate than a kiss from you,” I retorted.
He flinched, but quickly regained his composure to say, “This ends today. At noon, I’ll meet my subjects in the palace courtyard. Most of them will bow simply to avoid any trouble.”
I tugged again at the glass, biting down on my lip to remain strong enough to continue. Meanwhile, Joth used his hands to raise all the other pieces of glass over my head.
“A few may stubbornly resist. For their benefit, Simon has challenged me to a duel. When I defeat him—and I will defeat him—he will kneel or die in his place. Then the rest of the citizenry will be given the same choice. The end of this story has already been determined, Kestra. Please stop fighting me. Reconnect powers with me and let us return to a true partnership once more.”
“We never were partners, and this fight is only just beginning.” I yanked out the shard of glass at the very same moment as he let the pieces of glass fall. I searched for a way to stop them and failed, but the glass fell in a perfect circle around me … as if I were protected by some sort of barricade.
“You half-lives are my subjects!” he screamed. “Betray me here and I will never heal you. I will destroy what is left of you, just as Endrick destroyed so many others!”
“Attack him,” I said to those same half-lives. “You have nothing to lose now.”
Joth attempted to shield himself, but the half-lives pushed straight through his protections, rolling over him and leaving him gasping for breath. He would be vulnerable now, as vulnerable as I had been last night down in the tunnels. This might be my only chance.
I stood again, though I was limping as I moved toward him, my sword out and ready.
He leaned up on his arms, raising one hand in a defensive position. “If you intend to strike, do so with mercy. Kestra, this isn’t me. Surely you will not be cruel when the same corruption is in you. We are both victims to its power.”
“Kneel to me,” I said.
He glanced at my injured leg. “You need help, or that will bleed out.”
“My leg is fine.”
“It’s not. Perhaps you should kill me now,” he said. “Otherwise, when I get my strength back, you know that I will attack you again. With that injured leg, I will easily win.”
I did know that. This is how I must have been last night, in the tunnels with Harlyn. But I struggled with the memory. My mind had been playing tricks with me down there. Right now, full of strength and magic and once again within reach of great power, wasn’t this what I wanted?
I looked up at the Scarlet Throne, unscathed despite the battle Joth and I had just waged. The throne was mine.