Page 22

Gavin

W ith each bounce of Aves, Gavin’s chainmail rattled. The weight of his armor would only grow more burdensome if there was to be a battle tonight. As it was, Gavin was already desperately fighting against his own mind and all the scenarios it had conjured in the wake of Adelaide’s news.

Prince Branigan Hunten was a walking nightmare. Since he was able to bend the veil between this reality and the Penumbral Realm—even for a short time—Gavin and his men had to be prepared to face the worst. He couldn’t imagine the damage Branigan would be capable of with the Eye of Behelwer. Gavin’s worst fear was that the prince would manage to permanently destroy the veil between the realms and finally uphold the bargain the first king of Darshovi had struck with the god Penumbra and its domain a millennia ago.

With any luck, they would find themselves facing only the curiosity of Adelaide’s family and the awkwardness of explaining to them the position Adelaide had found herself in. Dueling was one thing, but shattering the fragile lies woven by a loved one was something else entirely. Gavin wasn’t certain what he would rather find waiting for him at their farmhouse.

But Adelaide had seemed certain her family was being held captive. She didn’t say how she could know, and Gavin hadn’t thought to press her. Her urgency was enough—and the Master of Thieves’s reputation was formidable enough—Gavin hadn’t needed to ask.

Urging his speckled horse down the lane that would finally bring them to Adelaide’s home, Gavin’s heart thundered between his ears. Still a distance from the house, Gavin wrestled with his mind. He needed a clear head. If he didn’t squash the thoughts that ranged from manic screams to creeping whispers, he’d never be able to focus. And if it was truly a battle that awaited him and his men at the house, he wouldn’t be of any use to anyone—least of all to Adelaide.

Focusing on his breathing, Gavin looked toward the horizon. Past fields of winter greens and burbairé trees, a quiet calm enveloped Gavin at last. His eyes caught sight of flickering lights up ahead. Candles illuminated the windows of the plain two-story house. A lantern cast a dancing light by the front door. And in the light of the waxing moon was a group of several figures standing out in the field beyond the weathered fence that guarded Adelaide’s home.

The moonlight gleamed off their armor.

Gavin glared.

It could only be the fifth prince and whatever forces he commanded.

Gavin held his fist up. Pulling back on the reins, Aves slowed. The thundering hooves behind him faded. Dame Beatrix trotted up beside him.

“What do you think is waiting for us at this house?”

“A battle.” Gavin clenched his jaw. “We’ll have to see who it is before we make any decisions. If it’s the prince, we’ll need to dismount. I don’t want the horses to get spooked if he opens a gate between the realms.”

“Understood, Commander.”

Gavin pressed his lips together. He hoped he was wrong.

Gavin hefted his sword and slashed through the shadowy fiemon looming over him. The cool lick of its blade grazed his face, glancing off his skin as the shadow dispersed. Gavin spun and slashed at the creature behind him. His chest heaved. Gavin surveyed the battlefield. His mind spiraled. When would it end?

Gavin’s sword flickered. His energy waned, smothered by the exertion of battle and the ever-present weight of his armor. Sweat beaded between his brow. His face was as hot as the flames engulfing his blade. It was the only way to kill Penumbra’s shadows. Despite the battle raging around him and the fiemons bearing down on him, a constant fear plagued his mind: had their plan gone awry? Was Adelaide safe?

At least the Eye of Behelwer was safe within Castle Belmont. There was that small consolation at least.

A shadowy silhouette lumbered toward him. Gavin forced all thoughts from his mind. Staring into the void of the fiemon’s gaping mouth, Gavin lifted his sword and cleaved the fiemon in half. The swirling mass of shadow wavered, disappearing into the moonlit night.

All around him, shadows morphed into giant foot soldiers faster than Gavin and his fellow warriors could slay them.

Gritting his teeth, Gavin squared his footing. A fiemon riding a shadowy horse bore down on him. Gavin watched as the warrior raised its spear.

“This is tedious,” he grumbled. Jabbing the point of his blade into the ground, Gavin gathered the flames into his hand and manipulated them into a dagger. He raised his arm and threw it.

The rider dissipated into thin air. Without any guidance, the shadow horse reared back on its hind legs and let out a frantic neigh. With little time to waste, Gavin pulled the remaining embers from his cooling sword and stoked them with his magic. His second dagger took care of the horse, sending it back to the Penumbral Realm just as he had done to its rider.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Gavin surveyed the trampled farmland. The shadows were thick all around. The flickering lights through the darkness were the only indication of where the Belmont knights were fighting foes of their own. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon his shoulders.

The wave of shadow seemed as if it would never stop. Fiemon after fiemon spawned from its swirling depths. Gavin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Nodding to himself, he reached a hand up to the sky. His magic flared, sparking and shooting high above the battlefield. The resounding boom traveled like thunder over the plain as his magic sliced through the darkness.

One by one, the lights went out until the entire field was draped in an overwhelming darkness. Gavin pressed his lips together. He had to trust that his compatriots knew what to do. If they didn’t…well, Gavin couldn’t think about that. He had only moments to do what he needed to do to save them all and put an end to this.

Putting everything he had left to give into his attack, Gavin pulled on the threads of his magic unfurling in his veins. Fire was a costly magic that drained every last bit of energy from a sorcerer. But it was the only way to banish the fiemons.

Weak flames sputtered and flickered to life around him. Gavin concentrated on breathing life into them. Painstakingly slowly, the flames stabilized. They didn’t emit much light, but they’d banished the shadows around him, leaving a clear ring where the fiemons had scrambled away.

Forcing his breaths to remain steady, Gavin licked his lips. He wished he was stronger. He needed to be stronger if this wasn’t going to happen again. If Darshovi destroyed the gate between realms again, then they would need more than what he could reasonably sacrifice.

After all, he’d never wholly recovered from the previous war. He supposed the same could be said of Kordouva.

He wished he’d taken the Eye with him. What good was it doing in the vault? Gavin needed it here and now. Adelaide’s family—and all of Kordouva—would only be safe if Gavin could manage to banish Penumbra’s shadows from this realm as he had before.

But he just wasn’t strong enough.

He needed more power.

Gavin clenched his jaw hard enough he feared his teeth would shatter. No matter how much he focused, the flames didn’t grow.

Taking a deep breath, he forced the tension from his shoulders. Gavin resigned himself to do his best, even if it was at his expense.

What good was it to live if it meant he had to live with unsurmountable regret?

The flames flared.

What good was it to live if he hadn’t given it his all, if he hadn’t tried his hardest?

Licking tongues leapt and teased at the shadows. The ring of fire grew, stretching outward and upward. Gavin’s heart thundered between his ears.

What good was it to live if he hadn’t done all he could for love?

The heat of the flames kissed his skin. The fiemons hissed. The giant foot soldiers shrank back in an attempt to outrun the orange flames. Sparks danced on the gentle breeze that carried through the night. They winked out as they cooled, but not before they’d burned a fleeing fiemon.

Gavin urged the ring of fire to grow, to unfurl and sweep across the farm to clear a path to the house at the heart of it all. Mindful of where his forces lay and the approximate location of the house, Gavin unleashed all he had against Penumbra’s scattered infantry.

All his doubts, all his fears, all his worry, every last bit of himself he could spare, he gave to the flames.

After all, hadn’t he always given everything he had to ensure tomorrow’s sunrise?

Emerald green eyes sparkled in his memory, just as they had every morning they’d had breakfast together. The way Adelaide’s hair seemed to glow in the sunlight, giving her a soft aura. Her laugh filled his ears. And if Gavin didn’t know the exhaustion in his bones, he’d believe the press of her soft lips against his was real. The memories filled his heart and eased the weight on his shoulders.

Adelaide deserved the sunrise, to live for tomorrow, even if the magic he used tonight cost him his own life. It didn’t have to cost hers.

Gavin’s knees shook. Even the tips of his fingers trembled. It would be a miracle if he didn’t collapse. He only needed a little longer, to make certain every last fiemon, every last shadow horse and hound, had been extinguished, banished by the light.

His breaths turned ragged. Gavin peeled his eyes open, uncertain of when they’d fallen shut, and surveyed the scene around him. He squinted against the all-too-bright glare of the fire swirling around him.

Stars twinkled overhead. The heavy veil cast over the field by Penumbra’s influence had lifted. The swirling bleak shadows had been extinguished. Gavin’s lips pulled into a weary smile. The flames sputtered. Watching as they shrank, Gavin’s knees buckled. Falling to a heap on the ground, it was all Gavin could do not to pass out as his vision swam. Grabbing blindly for his sword, Gavin tried to blink away the haze settling over his eyes. He had to stay awake. He still had to get to Adelaide and regroup with the knights he’d dispatched after her and Sir Maxwell, to ensure Adelaide’s safety.

His limp hand knocked into the cool steel of his sword’s hilt. Grasping it, Gavin leaned his weight against his sword, still stuck firmly in the ground. Taking gulps of fresh air, Gavin let his eyes flutter shut.

The creak and clinking of armor reached his ears as the Belmont knights rose and moved throughout the field. Glancing around, Gavin’s eyes landed on a man rising mere feet away from him.

His eyes locked with those of the Darshovian prince.

Gone was the swirling mass of shadows that had clung to the man, the nightmare. Their absence had left nothing but a mortal man. A lean, unintimidating man who, if Gavin had to guess, was just as drained as he was, if not more so.

If fire magic was costly, then prying a portal open into another realm was fatal.

Growling, Gavin hauled himself up by his sword.

Prince Branigan matched his movements. Shadows fizzled at his fingertips.

Gavin snarled, “We both know you can’t call Penumbra’s shadows again.”

“Just as well as you cannot draw your fire.”

Every muscle in his body groaned. Gavin forced himself to pull his sword from the frozen earth. Gripping the hilt, he prepared for a duel. Across from him, the Darshovian prince drew his sword.

As his surroundings faded from Gavin’s awareness, his field of vision homed in on the prince. The air crackled with tension. His arms trembled. He didn’t know how well he’d be able to wield his sword, but damn it if he wouldn’t try. All he had to do was survive long enough to land a killing blow to the prince.

That, and see to Adelaide’s safety. Once he’d done both, Gavin could allow his body to give into the exhaustion making black dots dance on the outskirts of his vision.

Gavin drew in a deep breath. His fingers tensed around the hilt. This battle would not become a war. Not this time.