Final Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 6) (3 page)

9

Aaric

T
ime passed . . . or did it? Aaric didn’t notice. He felt an inextricable pull to the west. He
knew
he’d find Kingsley there. Putting one foot in front of the other, he stalked forward, one single purpose burning in his mind. He would kill Kingsley.

The landscape remained unchanged; a flat barren plain of stone and snow. Fog seemed to press in on his peripheral vision, but whenever he turned to look, it wasn’t there.

Adaryn. Grief cut through him like a knife. What had her final moments been like? Why hadn’t he been there? He should have been there.

After days of walking—or had it been minutes? He couldn’t tell—the rocky plain gave way to . . . nothing. The ground ended in a cliff, the darkness beyond it impenetrable. A wind sprang up, racing in the direction of the blackness.

Aaric blinked, and suddenly Kingsley was there, standing at the very edge of the cliff. Head thrown back, he faced away from Aaric, his arms held out to either side, the wind whipping his hair.

Aaric took a step toward him and the magistrate turned, smiling.

“Now is your chance, Mr. Wright.” The magistrate spoke almost conversationally, but there was a light in his eye that Aaric knew too well. The man was trying to bait him. “You could easily cut me down, or push me. But you won’t. You’re too soft. Too weak. A coward.”

Aaric laughed mirthlessly. Was the magistrate so blind? “This is it, Kingsley. You’re a dead man.”

“Am I?” Kingsley tilted his head to the side. “You have but a moment to make your choice, Aaric. Choose wisely.”

Aaric steeled himself, walking forward. He’d killed before and hated it. This time, though, this was different. Aaric longed to plunge cold hard steel into the man’s heart. To make him pay for taking Adaryn. For breaking Aaric’s heart. Destroying Aaric’s happiness. He lifted his sword.

“Daddy!”

Aaric turned. To his left, a little girl clung precariously to the ledge, feet dangling midair. Her hands began to slip, scrabbling at the gravelly surface of the edge of the cliff. Her blonde hair was so pale it was almost white, her blue eyes filled with panic.

Dahlia.

“This is your chance, Aaric!” Kingsley called. “You won’t get another shot at ending me.” He laughed.

Aaric hesitated and Dahlia’s arms wavered. Her little fingers frantically dug into the ground. “Daddy, please!”

Aaric’s sword fell to the ground with a dull clang as he threw himself forward, grabbing the child’s hands with his own. With a heave, he pulled her to safety. Dahlia was safe. Alive.

Crouched on the ledge, he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her. “It’s going to be okay.” He buried his face in her little shoulder. She was all right. He tasted salt; when had he started crying? “I love you. Daddy’s here, Dahlia.”

A swirl of cold fog enveloped him as Dahlia and Kingsley disappeared. Aaric’s memories came crashing back and he sobbed with relief. Adaryn was alive.

Your love is stronger than your hate
, the voice spoke.
When given the choice between vengeance and love, you chose love. You pass the third trial.

With a roar, the fog blew away leaving Aaric in a forest. The air was warm, and soft sunlight trickled through the leaves. “Where am I?” Aaric frowned. “Will you show yourself, Voice?”

Behind you.
The voice sounded amused.

Clamping down on his sudden apprehension, Aaric turned around slowly.

At first he saw nothing but trees. But then something in the forest shadows moved, something huge.

It stepped into the sunlight. A massive creature, with a long, sinewy neck and shimmering blue scales. Leathery wings stretched out to either side of the great body. It came forward, walking on four legs, talons extending from each paw. It regarded Aaric with sad, solemn golden eyes.

Aaric was looking at a dragon.

10

Donell

T
he girl’s face was white, her eyes wide with terror. Donell had secured her to a large slab of stone, her arms and legs bound. Despite her efforts, the rope held. The girl looked at him, tears streaking down her filthy face. “Please let me go. Please!”

“They all say that.” Eletha spoke calmly. She stood several feet away and motioned Donell to join her. When he did so, she lifted her arms, fingers outstretched to the child. “Copy me, Donell.” Her gaze was locked on the struggling child. “We will share the essence of this one so you’ll know what to do next time.”

The magic swelled from the slim woman. Donell followed, calling the magic. The enchantment roared to life, a dull yellow light emanating from Eletha’s hands. Donell studied it. He could see that she had simply summoned light, but it wasn’t the right color. He did the same thing, a pale blue glow washing over his fingers. Eletha nodded encouragingly. “The color will change with time. Don’t worry.”

Taking a deep breath, Eletha’s arms stiffened and the magic changed. Donell frowned, trying to copy her. The light from Eletha’s hands separated into strings of light and shot forward, entering the child’s chest. The girl gave an ear-piercing shriek, thrashing and jerking, but the rope held firm. Donell hesitated.

“Don’t show weakness now,” Eletha snarled at him. Her eyes caught the magic, glowing with an unearthly light. “Remember she’s a Denali. An Oppressor!”

Donell frowned. She was right. Ignoring the child’s sobs, he wove his light into strands, shooting them through the girl’s chest. His eyes widened. There was something there, in the child’s heart. It felt like magic, only . . . different.

“It’s the essence.” Eletha grinned. “It will make us strong. Tie your strands around it and pull. Understand?”

Donell nodded. His throat felt dry. He had to do this. He
had
to. The Oppressors deserved nothing less. He thought of his sister, Ember. He was doing this for her, for her memory. She would do the same, wouldn’t she?

“Now!” Eletha jerked the strands, snapping them back toward her and Donell copied her. He gasped as the magic roared back into him, nearly knocking him off his feet.

The child’s screams stopped, her body going slack. Donell peered at her. “Is she . . . dead?”

“Yes.” Eletha shrugged. “She’s just a Denali. No matter.” She watched him. “Can you feel it? The magic?”

Donell could. Releasing the strands, it now lay dormant inside of him, but he could feel it. It was . . .
darker
somehow. But stronger. Much stronger.

Eletha stood on her tiptoes, her lips brushing his. “Your revenge on Ruis has already begun.”

11

Aaric

A
aric stared up at the huge beast, its blue scales shimmering in the half-light. It returned his gaze, its golden eyes unblinking.

Not ‘it,’ little one.
The dragon spoke to his mind.
‘He.’
The dragon snuffled, and tendrils of smoke rose from his nostrils.

Aaric nodded. Now that he considered it, the voice that spoke to his mind was unmistakably male.

You have proven yourself to be ready,
the dragon said.
Return to Ruis, Denali. Protect the people of that city and the rest of Omniah. Purge the Twyli of their perversion of the twisted magic.

Aaric nodded. “I would like to, but I need to return to Twyarinoth, dragon.”

The nomad woman is safe, Aaric. As is the Denali child. For now. But hurry. You must be there when Adaryn faces the Twyli. You will find her before the gates of Ruis. She will need your strength.

“You really believe I can do this?” Aaric couldn’t keep the skepticism from his voice. “I’m just an inventor. A scholar.”

You passed the trials, did you not?
The dragon’s voice sounded pleased.
Your mind is keen. So keen I had difficulty suppressing your memories.
I was right about you. I wasn’t going to release more magic after what happened to the country of Omniah, but you will be the exception. The need is too great.

Aaric swallowed, involuntarily stepping back. A shiver ran down his back as he recalled a memory that seemed a lifetime ago. He and Adaryn sat at his small table. He’d told her he didn’t know how her magic worked and he didn’t want to. Heaven save him.

Never forget. You are strong. Adaryn is strong. Each of you has your weaknesses, but together, you are an unstoppable force for good. An unbreakable force. Merge your essence and you will not be defeated.

The dragon lifted one huge paw, fingered talons as long as Aaric’s arm. He touched a claw, feather-light, to Aaric’s chest. Aaric staggered, feeling something flicker to life inside his body. It pulsated like a second heartbeat. The dragon lifted his paw and Aaric fell to the earth, clutching at his chest. Something stirred in him, eager for release. His face twisted in pain. He couldn’t hold on.

Let go, Aaric. It needs to be free.

With a cry, Aaric lifted his arms upward. Blue fire exploded from his hands, white-hot in its intensity, arching upward, dissipating right before making contact with the forest canopy.

Shaking like a leaf in the wind, Aaric rose to his feet, staring at his hands. “What . . . happened?”

You are one of them now, Aaric. You are Twyli.

12

Hydari

“
H
ow much longer, brother?” The Twyli army had set up camp for the night. Myyre sat in front of an enormous vanity, idly inspecting her nails. Hydari sat cross-legged on the floor, examining a map of Ruis. Being the prince of the Twyli, he gave the orders, and his generals would carry out those orders. He needed to be informed of any potential weakness his enemy portrayed. Their tent was massive, more than twice the size of any other in the camp, but that was to be expected, being royalty.

“I’m tired of travel,” his sister continued. “It’s been weeks.
Months
, really.” She picked up a brush and begin running its bristles through her hair. Hydari stared transfixed at her, the strands of long dark brown hair glistening in the lamplight. Mesmerizing.

“Are you listening?” She turned to glower at him, her lower lip sticking out petulantly.

“Yes.” He smiled at her. “You’re tired of traveling. See? I’m listening.” He continued, “We are getting close, Myyre. Don’t lose sight of our goal merely because you’re feeling impatient.”

Myyre nodded, still brushing her hair. “You’re right. We have so much to gain. A whole world.” She paused in her brushing, her face becoming thoughtful. “A pity we had to kill our father though. Mother would have been quite upset.”

“Guess it’s good we took care of her first then.” Hydari’s gaze wandered to the back of Myyre’s smooth neck. “This is easier. Just the two of us. We won’t have to share the essence with anyone else.”

Myyre turned to smile at him. “Just the two of us.”

Hydari hunched over to look at the map again, smothering a laugh. Myyre was such a jealous woman. She’d been outraged to hear he’d invited the nomad female to Twyarinoth. True, he’d found the strange Adaryn attractive, but his interest had come more from curiosity about other magic users than for her personally.

His jaw tightened. Adaryn would pay for her arrogance. Fyrsil too. That he was related to the man he had no doubt. That would make them cousins. Fyrsil would be a dead cousin. He wouldn’t risk the man trying to steal Hydari’s kingdom.

“Hydari.” The prince blinked and looked up at his sister. “You weren’t listening this time. What are you thinking about?”

“Fyrsil.” No need to mention Adaryn. Myyre seemed touchy enough today. “We need to find him.”

“Agreed.” Myyre nodded. “But I was talking about Eletha. What happened to our scout?”

Hydari shrugged. Eletha was one of the several Twyli they’d sent out here to retrieve information about these lands. She had been sent to scout the northern lands. He twisted his body so he was lying on his side, propping himself up with one elbow. “Probably dead. We haven’t heard from her for over half a year.”

“Just as well.” Myyre sniffed. “She was an overly ambitious woman.”

Hydari stifled another grin. He traced a finger on the map from the location they were currently at to the heart of Ruis. Soon. Soon this land would be theirs. No one was strong enough to stop them.

13

Aaric

S
tepping through a glowing arch made of what looked to be entirely of light, Aaric left the dragon's world of soft light and green woods. He blinked and found himself in a strangely familiar landscape of scattered stone buildings, windows and doorways empty.

The Tyrko Ruins. Aaric glanced up at the sky. The moon hung overhead, casting an eerie light over the land.

The night air was cool, but it was far warmer than the harsh, frozen terrain east of the mountains.

He began walking in the direction of Sen Altare. If he hurried, he could reach the city in a day. He’d need to find water soon though. Once the sun rose, things would warm up quickly despite the fact that it was winter.

It was still winter, wasn’t it? How long had he been in there? He frowned, contemplating. Perhaps it was now spring.

Magic. He felt it stir inside him. He swallowed, trying to ignore it. Shades alive, what had possessed the dragon to think Aaric needed enchantment? He was a rover now.

Not a rover,
he told himself. A Twyli. Just not a corrupt one.

He thought of the last words the dragon had said to him. Merge with Adaryn.
Find her spirit, her essence. It is invisible to the eye, little one, but you will sense it. Combine it with yours. Merge, and the Twyli will fall.

Aaric frowned, remembering. How he was supposed to do that was beyond him, but as he continued to walk, he firmly put thoughts of the magic aside, thinking of Sen Altare and its people. He had a plan. He didn’t know what the dragon had meant by merging, but he would go to Ruis regardless. If he could rally Sirius Archer and the Scholar’s Guild behind him, Ruis would stand a fighting chance.