Page 42 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

Ambrose brought both her hands out in front of her, letting the charge fill her before slamming them forward so his shadows met nothing but a wall of air that she held strong.

The dark whispers beat against her wall, licking around the edges trying to find a way through.

She couldn’t see through her rage. All she knew was she would tear him apart—limb from limb—if that’s what it took. His reign of terror would end tonight.

“You have no idea what I can do.” As she’d seen him do, she reached her hands into the darkness and found the shadows that lingered in them, she coaxed them forward, unsure if they would listen, but refusing to let them ignore her.

The darkness flirted with her call before they answered as though they’d been waiting for her to ask the right way.

“NO!” The deacon hurled his shadows at her but she pulled from their world, urging them to answer as they curled and suffocated his with every throw.

How many times had she called the darkness knowing it would never answer?

It finally did. And she felt incredible .

Furious, the robed mage refused to back down as he called his shadows that shrunk a little with each answer as though they no longer saw him fit to control them.

Ambrose cocked her head to the side in mockery of how he had.

“My turn.” With all the focus she had, she closed her eyes and let her magick consume her.

As she fully opened her channels, the rush was almost overwhelming but she let it build until there was nothing inside of her but pure Magick, swirling with a current that reached towards the clouds.

Purple-white light ripped through the space where she stood and when she raised her hand to the sky, her current called for everything the clouds could offer as her lightning ripped the sky in two and killed the disciple that had been battling Oryon, though her eyes had been on the deacon.

Fuck . She missed.

The deacon shrieked and tore at his robes. “No! Impossible! How is it you can wield two Elements? What kind of tricks are you playing?”

Podara was still frantically pouring buckets of water on a fire that wouldn’t quit, the edges of it now touching the house as the upper floor burst into flames.

Eurus was locked into battle with the disciple who held Lyda, who used his vines to try and take him down, though the knight cut them and didn’t falter. He leapt forward and with the strike of his blade sank it into the disciple’s chest all while catching the infant before she fell.

Danthan faced a disciple, using what Magick he could, but as a healer he was practically defenseless as he fell to the ground screaming, “Get out of my head!”

Felius had successfully released Artie who was helping him tear the vines from his wife as carefully as they could, the thorns biting her skin as they freed her.

Akadian faced two disciples in hand-to-hand combat, though it was hardly a fight.

The mages threw Water and Ice at him but it was no use.

Their Magick evaporated before they could even touch the prince who hadn’t even broken a sweat.

His own rage steamed off of him, though he didn’t unleash his magick.

Why isn’t he using Fire? Ambrose wondered, frustrated.

“We could really use some Water Magick right about now!” Podara shouted and Ambrose was fairly certain she was speaking to her.

This ends. Now.

Ambrose went to take the final steps that would close the distance between her and the deacon when a voice tore through the chaos.

“Stop!”

Everyone’s attention snapped to where the voice had come from.

The last disciple had Antony in his grasp, a dagger held at his throat.

The poor child screamed for his parents as Felius and Artie finally freed Marybeth.

As soon as the binds were off her, she launched herself screaming at the man that threatened her child.

The mage cut his hand through the air and a sharp blade of wind sliced her head from her shoulders and her lifeless body fell to the ground.

“No!” Artie roared as he ran to his wife. Blood spilled into the ground from where she had fallen, soaking her dress.

The family’s anguished screams filled her head as Ambrose tried to process what had just happened.

Marybeth .

The woman who not six hours ago welcomed them into her home and fed them a home-cooked meal now lay dead on her own property.

Marybeth .

Antony cried even harder as he reached for his mother’s still body .

Marybeth .

Ambrose completely abandoned the deacon and ran towards the disciple restraining Antony. She’d tear his throat out with her teeth if she had to. Nothing else mattered anymore.

On her approach, the disciple pressed the blade into Antony’s neck, a drop of crimson beading from where it punctured as Antony whimpered. “Do not come any closer.”

She stopped in her tracks.

The only one still moving was Podara as she threw water on the flames that had overtaken the house like a burning beacon, telling all what was happening. Though, Ambrose knew no one was coming to help them.

Danthan lay unconscious as blood trickled from his nose. The disciple he’d been facing stood over him with a wicked grin on his face.

She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to help. She raised her foot, wondering if she could be faster than him. Could she save Antony?

The disciple noticed her movement and pressed the blade further as Antony sobbed. “I said, stay back.”

She hissed at him but backed away a few steps as her mind raced for possibilities. What could she do?

Oryon and Eurus stood over Marybeth’s body as Artie sobbed into her chest. Her heart shattered as she watched. She never would’ve accepted the invitation if she knew this is what would happen. They didn’t deserve this.

Akadian watched, face contorted as though he couldn’t figure out what to do.

Do anything! Ambrose wanted to say but she knew it was no use.

There had to be something—

The disciple coughed, blood spurting from his mouth and robes as he turned behind him to see Felius who sank his battle axe deep into his back.

Yes!

The robed mage raised his hand to slice Antony’s neck at the same time that Ambrose copied the Magick he used to sever Marybeth’s head and returned the favor, removing his from his shoulders as it fell to the ground with a wet thud.

But…

It was too late.

Antony gasped, eyes wide as his hands cupped over his neck and blood seeped through his small fingers. His ocean blue eyes filled with tears as his body slumped to the ground.

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

Ambrose ran to the boy’s side and pressed her hands into his neck. He looked up at her, fear in his eyes as tears poured from hers. Frantically she twisted her head around but Danthan was still unconscious.

She had no idea if it would work, but she had to try.

She focused her magick, calling her channels forward as she willed everything into her hands.

She imagined the warm sensation that had been used to heal her countless times, and willed it into Antony.

She channeled every ounce of her mana into the boy but no matter how hard she called, her hands wouldn’t produce the healing glow she knew they should.

Please work. Please work!

But it was no use.

Ambrose was forced to watch the light leave Antony’s eyes as she desperately called but nothing answered.

No!

It had to work. She pressed harder. Called harder.

Nothing happened as Antony stared up at her and gasped one final breath. His blood soaked her hands but she didn’t pull away.

Artie and Alyx’s screams ripped through her heart as she held the small boy in her arms. The eyes that reminded her so much of her brother’s now devoid of anything that made Antony, Antony. The shy little boy was gone.

Oryon held Artie back so he wouldn’t see what she saw. Podara sobbed into the bucket of water and halfheartedly threw it on the flames.

Ambrose ripped her attention away from the boy, hot tears running down her face as she hunted for the deacon.

This ends now .

When she found her prey, she raised her hand to remove his head but before she could, the deacon and remaining disciples burst into bright blue flames. Their shrieks serenaded her as they burned where they stood until their bodies fell to the ground.

Akadian stared murderously at the deacon who had become nothing but bones and ash.

“You?” she sobbed through her tears, clutching Antony’s body.

The prince’s flames were legend across the kingdoms. She’d never seen anything so hauntingly beautiful. Words would never be enough to describe them.

Akadian stepped towards the deacon’s body and set it on fire once more. Until there was nothing left.

Not even bones and ash.