Page 42

Sylvanna

T he GodKing is even older than I expected. His snow-white hair flows down his shoulders and his faded blue eyes are lost in a net of wrinkles. Still, they’re sharp enough as they widen, taking us in.

“What? Who goes there?” he demands, in a creaking, old-man’s voice. “What foul sorcery is this?”

“Only traveling magic, my Lord,” Alaric tells him, stepping forward. “I come to you from Nocturna to let you know I have completed the quest you sent me on.”

“You did?” There’s confusion and disbelief in the old ruler’s eyes.

Behind his throne, I see a knot of advisors, all of them eyeing both me and Alaric speculatively.

If they’re wondering if they can kill us, they’d better think again.

I have my best defensive spells at the ready and of course, Alaric has his Drake.

I don’t trust these men, I think—especially not the one on the throne.

He reminds me of Kraven somehow. Of course, they look nothing alike but there’s an air about the GodKing—a feeling that he’s hungry for power and has been for his whole life.

I get the feeling he’d do anything to get it and to keep it and I can’t forget what Kraven said about the quest for The Heart being a pretext to get rid of Alaric altogether.

But my Paladin doesn’t want to believe such things about his ruler.

He loves the GodKing almost as much as I love my Queen and of course, his loyalty is beyond reproach.

He will serve the old man on the golden throne no matter what the GodKing orders him to do.

His whole identity is tied up in being a Holy Warrior who does his liege lord’s bidding.

So I simply wait and watch, allowing Alaric to do the talking.

“Do you really have The Heart of the Eclipse?” the GodKing asks skeptically. “And who is this NightBorn witch you brought with you?” he adds, glaring at me.

“That is no witch—she is the Lady Sylvanna,” Alaric tells him, frowning. “She helped me in the quest for The Heart. Without her, I never would have been able to get to it.”

The GodKing’s councilors seem surprised by this. They murmur among themselves and stare at me speculatively.

But the GodKing clearly doesn’t like it. He makes a sour face and stares at me distrustfully for a long moment before turning his attention back to Alaric.

“Well, if you’ve really got The Heart then bring it here, boy! Bring it here!”

Alaric ascends the steps to the golden throne, carrying the small chest. Only with the help of his Drake could he lift such a heavy treasure, but he makes it look easy.

He opens the chest and holds it out to the GodKing, who reaches for it eagerly, a greedy light in his pale blue eyes.

“Be careful, my Lord!” Alaric sounds uneasy. “Don’t try to lift it—it’s much too heavy.”

“Nonsense, boy! It’s mine—I’ll lift it if I wish!”

The GodKing grabs for The Heart and I hold my breath, wondering what it will choose to do with him. Some magical artifacts have a mind of their own and it’s impossible to predict how they’ll react to different people.

But when he touches it…nothing happens. It doesn’t glow any brighter—indeed, it almost seems to dim a bit. But other than that, nothing. Well, other than the fact that the GodKing clearly cannot lift it, which is no surprise. The fact that it doesn’t seem to be reacting to him at all, however, is.

I stare at the scene, perplexed and I can see that Alaric is watching anxiously—no doubt wondering if The Heart can give his liege lord back his youth, as it did to my Queen.

I have my doubts about that—the Queen’s youth was stolen by magic and The Heart merely restored it when it helped break her addiction.

With the GodKing, I have no doubt that his life has already been magically extended so there is nothing to restore—his youth was spent in the greedy pursuit of wealth and power and it’s gone now, lost in the annals of time.

“What’s wrong with the blasted thing?” the GodKing demands, at last giving up his attempt to lift it from its chest. “Why is it so damn heavy?”

“That’s just the way it is—part of its magic,” Alaric explains. “Only I can lift it, my Lord. I’m very sorry.”

“Only you , eh?” The GodKing gives him a suspicious look.

“Yes, but I brought it to you as you asked,” Alaric reminds him. “The prophecy promises The Heart will make all things right,” he adds.

“Yes, indeed. So it does.” The GodKing’s expression changes to one of crafty greed. “Which means I can finally destroy our enemies! Nocturna shall be no more!”

“Nocturna is not our enemy,” Alaric corrects him, frowning. “They are our neighbor. And they used to be our most valuable trading partner before you decided to go to war with them.”

“What’s that? How dare you speak to your GodKing in that way, boy?” the old man demands, glaring up at Alaric. “Just for that, I’ll start with the witch!”

He slaps his hand down on the glittering surface of The Heart and points his other hand at me.

“Heart, kill the witch!” he commands. “Let her be the first of her kind to die! And after that, I want you to destroy all of Nocturna!”

“No!” Alaric jerks the chest away, his eyes wide with shock. “No, you can’t kill her! I love her!”

I move not an inch—I am not worried. I’ve touched The Heart of the Eclipse and it knows my inner heart. It won’t kill me.

And indeed, nothing happens.

The GodKing scowls and glares up at Alaric.

“What’s this useless trinket you’ve brought me, then? It can’t be The Heart of the Eclipse—it refuses to do my bidding!”

“The Heart isn’t meant to do anyone’s bidding,” I say, speaking up for the first time. “It’s only meant to restore balance and put things that have gone wrong, right.”

“Then it should have killed you when I told it to!” the GodKing snaps. “Filthy NightBorn witch!” He looks at Alaric. “It’s clear to me that your mind is gone, boy—you’ve been bewitched by this evil temptress!”

Alaric’s face is grim.

“Do not speak that way of my love ,” he growls and his voice has gone inhumanly deep. His eyes are in flames as his Drake becomes agitated within him. Behind the throne, I see the GodKing’s councilors muttering uneasily.

But the GodKing doesn’t seem to notice any change in his loyal Paladin.

“I’ll speak how I fucking well please in my own throne room, boy!

” he snarls. “How dare you bring this witch in here, pretending that you’ve got The Heart of the Eclipse when it’s nothing but a useless bauble with no real power?

” He slaps at the chest again, his fingers hitting the purple surface of The Heart. “How dare you—hey!”

He stops his rant and looks at his hand, which seems to be stuck. His fingers are still on the shiny purple surface of The Heart and it’s clear that he’s trying to pull them away but they aren’t coming.

“It’s got me!” he shouts in a high, cracked voice. “Someone come and help me—it won’t let go!”

“Be still—just let it calm down,” Alaric advises, but even as he speaks, something strange is happening to the GodKing.

I take a step closer to see what it is, because I don’t believe my eyes. It looks to me like the skin of his hand—the one touching The Heart—is withering. The flesh is literally wasting away, showing his bones beneath. And soon the effect starts spreading up his arm.

“My Lord?” Alaric asks, his eyes wide with alarm. “What’s happening?”

He tries to pull the chest away, but it seems he can’t. He appears to be frozen in place almost as much as the GodKing.

“Don’t try to move!” I shout to him. The air of the room is thick with magic—The Heart of the Eclipse is moving now, doing its work and it won’t take kindly to any interference.

But Alaric is still tense, his big body as taut as a bowstring.

“It’s killing him!” he exclaims, his voice filled with anguish. “I never meant for this to happen!”

And indeed, the strange wasting of the GodKing is continuing apace. Now I can see the bones in his forearm as the flesh shrivels up and wastes away. Then the upper bone of his arm becomes visible, then his shoulder…

“No, no!” he howls, still yanking futilely at his hand, which is firmly stuck to The Heart. “No, it’s supposed to make me live forever and vanquish all my foes! Not this— not this!”

“I’m sorry, my Lord!” Alaric’s face is filled with torment and despite the despicable things the GodKing tried to do using The Heart, I still feel for my Paladin. It’s hard to see him so upset as his liege lord, whom he’s been loyal to all his life, literally wastes away right in front of him.

“This isn’t right—it isn’t fair!” the GodKing cries. “Councilors, help me! Someone get me some help!” The wasting magic has started on his other side now and both arms are nothing but useless, dry black bones.

I finally understand what’s happening, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The Heart is taking back the time the GodKing stole. Just as it restored balance by giving the Queen back the years that had been taken from her, it’s now reclaiming all the years the ruler of Solaris took.

The councilors come out from behind the throne, but they seem too frightened to do anything. They just stare at the wasting GodKing with wide eyes and frozen mouths.

“Do something, you fools!” the GodKing raves. Soon he won’t be able to speak at all. The wasting is creeping up his neck. “Stop this blasted thing before it’s too late!”

“My GodKing, we know not how!” one exclaims, wringing his hands.

“The priest—bring a priest!” another shouts.

A priest is brought in hurriedly—a young man with a shaved head wearing a long brown robe. But when he sees what’s happening to the GodKing, his eyes go wide and his mouth opens and shuts, like a fish gasping for water.

“Do something!” one of the councilors exclaims, shoving him. “Say a prayer—stop this evil!”

“Our father, who art in Heaven,” the priest babbles. But he gets no further for the process speeds itself up. All in an instant, the GodKing’s legs are nothing but bones and his howling face has become a grinning skull.

He’s gone.