Page 47 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin (The Nightfire Quartet #4)

FORTY-SIX

“No, you fucking don’t!” Yasen screamed as he ran for Abishek, his sword already drawn.

They’d caught Zarya’s trail, picking up the evidence of her route, assuming she was responsible for those patches of colorful tile. Yasen and Row had run as fast as they could, trying to catch up.

Abishek had followed her, too.

They entered the fortress just as Zarya broke the seal, and they watched as thousands of nairatta flowed from the earth and entered a shimmering portal.

Something told Yasen they were headed for Rahajhan. The demons had returned to sweep over the land like they’d done a thousand years ago. Why had she done it? She must have a good reason, but what?

Then she’d turned around, and Yasen’s heart stopped when Abishek hit her with a blast of fire. She flew several feet, landing on the stones, her body going limp.

Yasen was going to kill him.

Except Row obviously had the same idea.

He rushed past Yasen with a snarl and barreled for Abishek, knocking him in the back with his shoulder. The king went flying, landing on his hands and knees with a surprised cry.

Yasen took the opportunity to seize the mystic, wrapping an arm across his chest and pressing a dagger to his throat. He was much smaller than Yasen, fine-boned, and more of a thinker than a fighter.

“Don’t fucking move, or you’re dead,” Yasen hissed in his ear, causing the mystic to fall still. “I’ll snap your neck before you can blink.”

That left only the army commander to deal with. She could probably take them all one-handed, but the uncertainty in her expression had Yasen wondering which side she was actually on. Her gaze kept finding Rabin, who lay passed out on the floor, his chest rising and falling.

When their gazes caught, she raised her hands in a gesture of surrender while training a watchful eye on the king. Row now stood over a prostrate Abishek, his sword in one hand and his eyes brimming with fire.

“Turn over,” Row ordered, pressing the tip of his blade into the back of the king’s skull. As he began to roll, Row stamped his foot into Abishek’s ribs and shoved him onto his back. “What have you done!”

With the mystic in his hold, Yasen watched Zarya, who lay crumpled in a heap, her dark hair covering her face. Was she breathing? Gods, why was he stuck holding onto this windbag?

“Unhand me!” the mystic declared, trying to sound authoritative, but it only came out petulant.

Yasen considered his options. Zarya needed him, and he had no obligation to play the good guy in this situation. These assholes had started this. So, he grabbed the mystic’s chin in one hand and the top of his head in the other and neatly snapped the mystic’s neck with a crack. He dropped to Yasen’s feet, sinking in a heap.

Yasen blew out a breath and studied the mystic’s limp body before looking up to meet Ekaja’s slack-jawed expression. A moment later, her mouth snapped shut, and she nodded.

Yasen wasted no more time, crossing the cavern to reach Zarya. He rolled her over to feel for her pulse. When he detected nothing, he immediately laid her down and began chest compressions while blowing air into her mouth. From the corner of his eye, he watched Row keep his blade pointed at the king while he struggled to his feet.

“Zee! Don’t you dare fucking die on me!” Yasen snarled as he tried to get her heart started. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he worked, and he was trying very hard not to cry. Zarya would mock him until the end of time.

No one was taking her away.

Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder and shoved him aside.

“Move,” Rabin snarled. “I’ll take care of this.”

He looked like hell. He was all scraped up, his clothes ragged, his hair a mess, and dark circles ringed his eyes. What the fuck had happened to them?

Rabin sank to his knees and stretched across Zarya, burying his face in the curve of her throat. Yasen was about to protest so he could continue first aid, but Zarya began to glow, her skin shimmering as coppery beams of magic swirled around them both.

He remembered Zarya explaining that Rabin could bring her back to life as her paramadhar. Rabin pulled up, kissing Zarya’s slack mouth and eyelids, whispering as he clutched her hand and ordered her to wake up.

Row and Abishek were now circling one another, firing magic around the room.

“You think you can stop me?” Abishek hissed. They both reacted, attacking with blasts of fire. They ducked, missing each other’s strikes before they collided with opposite walls, sending a shower of stones raining down.

They kept trading blows as magic ricocheted off the corners, and Yasen moved in front of Zarya and Rabin, hoping to protect them from an errant blast of magic.

Ekaja watched Row and the king before her gaze again met Yasen’s. Another blast of magic struck high on the wall, sending more stones showering to the floor.

She quickly made her way around the perimeter and waved her hand. Yasen could now see the faintest outline of a barrier surrounding them. Rabin was still holding Zarya, whispering to her.

Row’s cold laugh drew Yasen’s attention back to where Row and Abishek were still trying to kill each other. “Where is your sixth anchor?” he demanded. “Why aren’t you fighting harder?” He flung out a hand, striking Abishek in the shoulder.

The king retaliated with an arrow of fire, but Row ducked at the last moment.

“You were lying, weren’t you?” Row accused. “To Rabin? To Zarya? To make yourself seem more powerful so they wouldn’t suspect what you wanted?”

Yasen watched Abishek’s face pale as he took another step and flung out another flare of magic. He noticed the king limping and favoring his right arm.

“I knew it,” Row shouted. “You’ve never been able to touch the darkness. I would have known .”

Abishek scowled, shuffling back as Row advanced with his sword aimed at his heart.

“I should have been the strongest!” Abishek shouted, his voice cracking. “I was born for this.”

“I knew Asha was right!” Row screamed. “I knew she didn’t lie to me. You were the strongest. You’ve extracted astonishing feats from your power. Things people could only dream of. You are talented by all measures, but it was never enough. All of this because you’ve always been so fucking insecure!”

They continued circling while Yasen kept one eye on Zarya and Rabin. Whatever he was doing was working because her chest was rising, and he heard her groan.

“That’s it,” Yasen whispered in encouragement while Rabin focused on Zarya, his attention never wavering. As Zarya’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, Yasen’s own heart began to beat normally again.

While the fight continued, Ekaja stood over them, her fists bunched as she looked between Rabin and her king. It seemed like she couldn’t decide whether to intervene or stay out of it.

Row and Abishek were arguing, blaming one another for a litany of hurts and mistakes they shared over the years. Row’s eyes burned with anger and fire as they traded blows, both vying for an upper hand.

Abishek only had five anchors, and Row was one of the Chiranjivi, a role chosen by the gods. With Yasen’s limited knowledge of magic, he wasn’t sure who had the advantage, but he was praying it was Row.

A blast of air had Row flying back, tumbling end over end before he crashed into the wall with a thump. Yasen tensed, wondering if he should help, but something told him this was a fight that had been brewing for a very long time.

Row coughed as he tried to catch his breath, rolling over to face the king. Abishek’s manic grin sent a chill skating down Yasen’s back. He strode over with his hand outstretched, magic flashing at his fingertips.

The king raised an arm as a ball of fire formed in his palm. He hurled it, but Row flung out a bolt of shadow, striking Abishek in the stomach. The king was knocked off his feet as Row stood up, a hint of bewilderment in his eyes.

Yasen blinked. Had Row just used the sixth anchor? It looked just like Zarya’s magic.

“Why?” Row shouted, recovering from his shock. “Why would you kill her? All she ever wanted was a family that wasn’t me. I know that’s why she came to you. She would have loved you.”

“To free the Ashvins!” Abishek screamed as he struggled to a knee. They were both bleeding from several wounds and slowing down. “I wanted to spare her. I thought she would cooperate. It didn’t have to be this way!”

Abishek fired another shot of magic, striking Row in the shoulder. He stumbled, hunching over.

“You created a child only to use her,” Row said. “You manipulated the woman I loved, and I know you are responsible for her disappearance.” Row advanced a step, fury rolling off him in waves. “She was right all along. You wanted to hurt Zarya. I never wanted to believe it, but I did everything I could to protect her.”

Row advanced another step, and Yasen saw something falter in Abishek’s expression for the first time. Yasen wasn’t one for mushy stuff, but it was obvious Abishek was fighting with hate, but Row…was fighting for love .

For Zarya and Asha, and maybe that made him stronger.

“The day Zarya was born, I became a father,” Row said as he limped across the floor. “I never expected it, and gods know I made so many mistakes along the way, but I loved her like she was my own. I only ever wanted to protect her.”

Yasen noticed Zarya stirring as Row took another step. Rabin rolled off her, and somehow, he looked even worse. His pallor had turned to ash, and he panted with labored breaths, staring at the ceiling.

Yasen helped her sit up. She blinked heavily, noting Row and Abishek in the center and Rabin lying beside her. She fell on top of him, sobbing as she whispered, “You’re back” over and over.

The sound of shattering stone had them both looking up as Row and Abishek continued battling, magic flying in every direction.

“When I left Andhera, I did so out of disgust and a loss of faith in you,” Row shouted. “You had lost your way. You wanted to free the darkness, but you also wanted so much worse. You want to destroy everything in the name of restoring Aazheri power.”

He pushed a sweaty lock of hair from his eyes as Abishek stalked towards him. They fired again, their magic clashing in a bright flash.

“I should have stopped you then, but I was a fool,” Row said as he retreated. He was breathing heavily, his forehead shiny with perspiration. “Instead, I ran away and found a different purpose. Raising a little girl into the remarkable woman she has become, and when she came to you, looking for a father, this is what you did!”

Abishek blinked, and Yasen wondered if the barest flash of guilt passed over his expression.

“The mistake I made was not hunting you down and killing you,” Row continued, his voice filled with icy rage. “The mistake I made was allowing you to live; instead, I kept her hidden where she was forced to live a half-life.”

Whatever remorse Yasen saw in Abishek’s face cleared as he snarled and ran for Row, shoving him in the chest until he was backed against the wall. The king’s hand wrapped around Row’s throat.

“You dare speak to me this way?” Abishek hissed. “I am your king!”

“You…are…not…” Row gasped as Abishek squeezed.

The king laughed. “Oh, Row. Noble Row. You’ve made a commendable effort, but you cannot beat me.” He pulled Row from the wall, shaking him like a rag doll, and forced him to his knees, caging him in bands of magic.

Row looked up, his long, dark hair hanging limp in his eyes. Yasen slowly stood as he scanned the room, trying to figure out a plan to get them all the fuck out of here.

“I wish I’d ended your miserable existence,” Row snarled, and the king laughed.

“You’ve lost. First, I will end you , and then Rabindranath and my embarrassment of a child are next.”

It was at that moment that several things happened at once.

Abishek lifted an arm, magic swirling at his fingertips.

Ekaja shouted, “You will not touch him!” and lifted her hand.

Yasen leaped for Row, preparing to throw himself at the king.

But Ekaja’s magic struck Abishek in the chest, knocking him down and releasing his hold on Row.

He might have been nearly beaten, but Row didn’t miss a beat.

It was then that Yasen saw the warrior Row had been centuries before he’d ever been born.

Row crossed the room and stomped on Abishek’s throat with his boot, murder in his eyes. The king gasped and choked, flailing as he fought for air.

“This ends now,” Row hissed. “And you will never touch my daughter again.”

Row blasted out a thick beam of pure fire. Yasen could feel its heat from where he stood. It climbed over Abishek, igniting his hair and clothing as he screamed.

It was an inhuman sound. An unholy wail that echoed into every corner of Taaranas.

Row didn’t blink. He didn’t shake. He didn’t move.

He just fried the fucker to a crisp.

Yasen wanted to cheer, but he held it in, thinking it might be inappropriate.

When Row was done, when nothing of Abishek was left, he dropped his hand and sunk to the floor, his head bowing as his knees landed amongst the ashes of his former king.