Page 45 of The Healing Dragon (The Red Book #2)
“Don’t go soft on me now.” I take the sword in hand and pass it from hand to hand, registering the weight of it. For its size and vibration of magic, it’s surprisingly light.
I relish on the blessing of being able to feel magic again. A thing I never thought of twice.
“I am ready,” I say.
Roman leans closer to my ear and whispers, “I’m glad to have become someone you deem worthy of saving.”
“I’m glad I get the opportunity to do things right,” I whisper back.
I look ahead and match my father’s impatient frown.
“What is this?” He gestures in my direction as I close the distance.
The guards standing in line break formation to let me pass. Nods of respect in my direction are the only sign that they know what is happening. The blood trailing down my hand into the sword at my side must make a delightful sight.
“Let me make you a deal, old man,” Roman shouts from his post “If you can take her, then you can have her.”
I cross past where the shield once stood. My father stares me down from his place at the front of his dark legion of traitors. His disapproving gaze moves from my sword to my face.
“I know you did not come all the way here just for me,” I say as I take my place a few feet before him.
I gesture to the men behind him. This attack must have been in the works long before I showed up at his keep.
Requesting for me to face him must be a distraction or the beginning of his actual plan.
Regardless, I know my father enjoys boasting about his successes and, from the smirk on his face, this is going according to his plans.
His eyes trace every step I take, and every move I make.
“You might have something right about that.” He looks behind him and smiles like a shared joke among friends. “But your survival has caused a lot more trouble than anticipated. It needs to stop.”
The realization of his words hit me, and I almost lost my footing. The appearance of the royal offspring with the news of Ignis calling for me was just earlier today, but the outrage of the city has been happening for longer.
“My survival?” I ask, inclining my head.
“Do I truly need to say it?” My father looks bored. “I should’ve expected that your connection with the Oscuro boy would prove troublesome. It has always been that. But I never expected Brandon Oscuro to let you live. Kings don’t forgive traitors.”
His plan was always to have us all die the night of the attack. My brothers and I were never meant to walk out. The lack of anger at losing his two oldest children finally makes sense. It was at his own hand.
“Why?” I can’t help the word slip from my lips.
I know the answer, but the child inside me seeks a reasoning that does not point at her father sacrificing her for his greed.
“Ignis needed to back me, but I knew they never would turn on their King unless he killed their precious leaders. You think I don’t know they never truly accepted me? The second your brother was born, they counted the days for his ascension.”
I add my brother’s names to my list of reasons. Their only sin is being born to this man.
“Ignis answers to the Oscuros only because the Duelo family allows it. Once you’re gone, they will have no choice but to answer to me.”
His logic is so flawed I can’t say anything. Reason has left him.
“I would’ve let you live, Janelle. But you brought that boy and escaped with my only opportunity at uncapping magic.”
“Jesse,” I say. “His name has always been Jesse. And your opportunity at uncapping magic is named Matias.”
“They are nobody!” he shouts.
“You will be nobody. All your schemes will amount to nothing,” I say. Fury consuming my body. “Your name will fade to nothing.”
I feel the moment his lips breath out a spell to compress my body. The contradiction I breathe out keeps my limbs mobile, but I don’t make it known. Instead, I wait for him to cross the distance between us. I watch, unmoving until he is inches from me.
“You could’ve been so much. You, my obedient daughter, are the most like me.”
Obedient. Not loving, precious, or any other endearing name. His care for me was always under the condition of me following his every command.
“I’m nothing like you, coward.”
I swing the sword over my head and down on him.
My father is fast, but he’s not accounting for my magically enhanced speed.
He isn’t fast enough. The sword makes contact with his face from the top of his forehead down his nose and upper lip.
The cut is shallow, but I’ve marked the man who counted himself untouchable.
His expression of shock is only momentarily. A small sheen of blood covers the cut down his face. My father doesn’t wipe it off. He smiles wide and lets out a low chuckle.
A blast of wind pushes against me, but I counteract, then hold up a shield in front of me. Blow after blow, my father screams as he attempts to push me back and tear me down. I don’t move an inch. He pauses for a moment to catch his breath and reassesses.
I take the opening to open my palm wide to the floor. I call to the creature my fire forms and, like an eager puppy ready to play, it answers me. The fire erupts with a fierce greediness to meet freedom once again.
The snake I’ve called Dexter in my mind takes form and spreads all around us. It circles my father and me, cutting us both off from the outside world, then lets out a loud growl to the sky. There is no aid coming for either of us. I’ve yet to meet a creature that can cross Dexter.
My father’s eyes widen at the realization that my magic is fully back.
“Kill them all!” he shouts to his men, blood dripping from his lips. His eyes narrow on me with a glint of victory. “You really think it will end with me?”
Above the crackling flames of Dexter’s fire, the battle cry of creatures marching to the Black Castle fills the air.
“No,” I say as I cross to him with the sword up and ready. “But you will end with me.”
I cross the distance towards him and swing the sword in his direction.
I’ve enveloped it on fire now and the blazing steel cuts through the air like lightning.
My father is ready for my moves now, so it’s hard to make contact but not impossible.
It becomes a game of cat and mouse. I go in the defense, then in the offense.
Blow after blow, I don’t hold back and neither does he.
The more spells I block from my father, the more I realize how ill-prepared he is for battle. His skills have always been only talk and today I’m witnessing the extent of this mirage. His worst soldiers would hold their own against him .
I need to end this, and I know I’m able.
The knowledge of what will happen next is what keeps me in this loop.
He loses his footing and I toss a fire orb that hits the center of his chest. The air leaves his lungs, and he recoils to himself.
I step up to him and raise my sword to his temple.
This is it. One swing of the steel will end it all, but I freeze.
No magic is holding me in place, but the little voice in my head telling me there will be no turning back. This is one of those things I will have to live with. All the work I’ve put into turning a new leaf suddenly feels in jeopardy.
I lower my sword.
“Am I any better than you if I do this?” I say, kneeling on the floor. “I will only become another version of you.”
My father laughs from his place on the floor. His chuckles are interrupted by coughing as he hunches over to his side with one hand holding his stomach.
A swirl of black smoke bleeds through the ground up and spreads until a person materializes and walks through the smoke. A tall man with a dark air takes in the scene. The creature looks at Dexter with curiosity.
“Mel?” my father asks with wide eyes. “Have you come to take me to the underworld?”
“I’m afraid even the underworld has standards you do not meet,” Mel says with a grunt.
I’ve never met the demon in person, but his name and reputation describe him perfectly. His golden gaze falls to me and a look of disappointment passes through him.
“You can still do it. It’s not too late.” His expression doesn’t change when I don’t move. “Your soul is just as disgusting as your boyfriends,” Mel says.
“What?”
Mel doesn’t answer me. He turns to my father and extends his hand. Nothing physical or visual happens, but the connection is made known as my father's screams echo in the forest.
“Wait,” I yell. Mel doesn’t pay me any attention. I turn to my father. “Where is it? Where is the Red Book?”
My father doesn't move, but his eyes turn in my direction. His lips curve at the edges. The expression chills my skin despite the wall of fire surrounding us.
“You’ll never find it on time. The Oscuros will never get it back. Not without war.” He coughs. “The moment my soldiers and I don't return, someone will take it to the King of Paz. He will finally have the thing he needs to destroy Puerto Quinn. My death will be avenged.”
I step back, staring at the hateful eyes of a man who’d rather see the world burn down to ashes than admit defeat. The King of the Human Lands will finally get an upper hand on all magic kind, not just Brandon. My father has doomed us all.