And then, with a swiftness Dean had had no idea Kael possessed, he darted back out of reach, bringing his sword down on Merrick’s wrist. It dug into the bone, spraying black blood onto the floor.
“Don’t get that close,” Dean snarled at Kael.
“Yeah, I’m well aware,” he shot back.
Merrick roared at the cut. His dark eyes turning perfectly black as he seemed to grow in size. The injury only angering him rather than stopping him.
And there was a moment as he turned all of his attention on Kael that Dean wondered why he was protecting him. Kael was a murderer. He had destroyed Dean’s home and so many of the people he had cared about. Kael had done it unprovoked after slaughtering Dean’s parents. There was no reason for him to survive this fight.
But he had been in this moment before.
Something so similar that it was eerie. Not a Nokkin, of course, and hardly a prince. Still, it had the same feeling.
When he had been in Domara, he had been given the gift of magic, and in return, he’d had to work for Valesamy. She hadn’t seen it as slavery or even indentured servitude. It had just been a part of her culture. What she understood to be true. The strongest among them could bestow gifts, and if you wanted the gift, then you had to work for the person who had given it to you.
Not all were like Valesamy, but he’d just gotten unlucky enough to get a gift from her. She had made him do horrible things in return. Things he still had trouble thinking about. Things that still haunted his dreams and ripped him from sleep.
And one of those occurrences had been just like this. He and another gifted had gone to take down one of Valesamy’s enemies. Dean could have saved him. He could have been the better person, but when her enemy had gotten too close, he’d let the man die. He’d even thought that maybe it would bring him that much closer to leaving Domara. The death of another gifted was one step closer for him after all.
It hadn’t gotten him free.
It had done nothing but anger her.
And get him punished even though he had completed the task. Killed her enemy. Robbed him. Destroyed his palace. And laughed as it went up in flames.
The act still haunted him.
So, he could let Kael die here.
He wasn’t even sure it would haunt him as the last one had.
But this wasn’t about whether it would haunt him.
It was about whether or not this was the right thing to do. Cyrene had thought Kael was worth saving. That he had some redemption left in him. Dean had to be able to see that anyone was worth redeeming. Because, if he was worth it after all he had done for Valesamy…then why not Kael?
If he let Kael die here, was Dean any different than the monster he had been in Domara?
Had he really changed? Or was he just pretending?
Because it would be so easy to let Kael die.
And yet…he couldn’t do it.
With a burst of energy, he threw another bolt of lightning at Merrick just as he reached for Kael. This time, it hit him square in the chest. Merrick hadn’t been expecting the attack, and it jolted him instead of absorbing.
In the moment that Merrick was distracted by the lightning bolt, Kael swung his sword as fast and deliberately as he could. Merrick’s head rolled off his body and fell to the ground. A second later, the entire body collapsed backward. The last Nokkin of Emporia was no more.
Kael brought the blade back to his side, his injured shoulder leaving his left arm hanging dead. Kael leaned forward, breathing heavy. “For a second, I thought you weren’t going to do anything to stop him.”
“For a second, I wasn’t sure I was,” he told Kael honestly. Then, Dean patted his back. “But I’d rather see you rot at trial than die here as a hero.”
Kael laughed, straightening to his considerable height. He swept his dark hair off of his forehead. “You know…you’re not too horrible after all.”
Dean shook his head. “You’re still horrible. But a hell of a swordsman.”
“And you shoot actual lightning bolts out of your hands. One day, you can send me to get magic like that.”
Dean snorted. “Not a chance.”
“Yeah. Probably for the best,” Kael said with another laugh.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“Good enough.” He shrugged. “Nothing I can do for it right now.”
“All right. Let’s go help, Cyrene.”
“Knowing Cyrene…she doesn’t need our help.”
“So true,” Dean agreed.
Then they both laughed and jogged down the hallway.
68
The Wings
Cyrene had never felt this before.
It was her first official link without the curse. She hadn’t realized until that point how much it had been holding her back. Completely hindering her ability to delve into the links she had actually chosen in her life. Sarielle and Avoca were her people. They were the ones she wanted to be bound to. And, now that she was free of Serafina’s and Viktor’s bond, everything was suddenly perfectly clear. As sharp as a razor’s edge and so much stronger.
Cyrene took a step toward Malysa, who just smiled like a Cheshire cat and snapped her fingers. Suddenly, the two Voldere dropped out of the sky and landed before Cyrene. Avoca was at her side in a second. As if they were so attuned to each other that they no longer needed words.
The two beasts were enormous and yet preternaturally quick. Their wings double and again as long as they were tall. They tucked the wings in tight against their backs. Those devil-red eyes flashing as they moved in sync.
She had taken out one of these things with her spirit magic. She knew the rest didn’t work on it. Just like the Nokkin. In fact, it seemed as if the Voldere, this new beast, had been bred from dragons and the Nokkin. Immune to flame and the other elements, but still susceptible to spirit magic. They could be cut down but not without difficulty.
She nodded her head, and Avoca moved to the left as Cyrene moved to the right. The Voldere sprang for them in the same instant. It was clear they wanted to divide and conquer. They’d both come for Cyrene, which was fine by her if they believed that she was the deadlier threat. They weren’t wrong, but Avoca was much more powerful with a blade.
Cyrene engaged the Voldere, throwing blasts of connected elemental energy toward them. She knew that it wouldn’t stop them, but it would slow them down. It also had the advantage of using less magic and making them think that she had no idea what she was doing.
You killed our brother, the first hissed at her.
You will not get away with another, the second said.
“Do you things have genders?” Cyrene asked, sending another shot of flames to their flame-retardant, leathery skin. “I really can’t tell. Are either of you female?”
The things snarled at her. One lunging for her legs as the other attempted to go to her exposed throat.
They missed Avoca jumping in from high above as her air magic effortlessly carried her onto the back of the first. She had out both ice-white blades and shredded its wings as she slid down its back to the ground once more.
The Voldere shrieked in horror, whirling around to reach for her. But she had already rolled out of the way.
The second Voldere seemed to have realized its mistake in ignoring Avoca. It circled back to face off with both of them. Its comrade was still howling as if its wings were the most precious part of its body.