Of Darkness and Crowns (25 page)

But my honorable nomination is eclipsed by my threat just now; no one is to kill Caben if anything goes wrong.

During the first part of the war, I took this nomination with pride. I had to—to ensure Caben’s life. And I accepted a leadership role for his kingdom, because I made a promise to him. But now, it doesn’t quite ring true.

None of the decisions I’ve made since becoming the Nactue leader have benefited anyone. Anyone other than the lunatic goddess, that is. So I’d be more than relieved if someone else were to step up and offer some words of fortitude.

I’m tired of letting people down.

Not surprisingly, the person who does step up is the only one of us who offered any kind of plan. Ironically, the only one of us declared unsuitable to do so. Caben’s mentally unstable mother, Aurelia.

She walks up beside me and reaches into the breast pocket of her shirt. “My son will sleep soon,” she says, handing me a vial of off-yellow solution and a syringe. “Put him to sleep.” She smiles, and my gut twists.

With unsteady hands, I accept both the vial and syringe. My palms are slick with sweat and the rest of me feels just as clammy. I may hate this plan with every fiber of my being, but it’s the only one we have.

I plunge the syringe into the vial and fill it. All the while, unable
not
to think of that terrible night my own father stuck me with a syringe of mercury. I don’t miss the unnerving connection Caben and I share yet again. As if we’re living each other’s lives, only in reverse.

Tucking the syringe into the side pouch of my harness, I watch as the Nactue check their swords and weapons in preparation. Kaide and Lena are the only ones who didn’t pray before we entered the Otherworld. The rest made their avowals to their goddesses. Mine, departing words to my mother and father. My appreciation of her and my forgiveness of him, and getting in return no confirmation of his love, but acceptance.

Some things have to be good enough.

Out of habit, I reach for Caben’s ring that’s been resting near my heart for months. My stomach sinks when I don’t find it there. It would have been comforting to touch it one last time.

Just outside the entrance, miles above us now, dozens of Cury-crafts scatter the barren landscape. There are so many, I suspect even the king of Laryn has called his army to join forces in what the rulers must deem the final battle of this war.

And it might very well be. If either they or we succeed.

Had Caben not returned to the Otherworld, Bale might’ve stood a greater chance at victory. His most operative move during this war has been to keep moving, keep hidden, just out of reach. Now, he’s localized himself to one place, with virtually little chance of escaping past the invincible numbers stationed here to fight.

One way or the other, there will be an ending to this madness. It’s just unknown if another madness will rise up in its place.

We’re close now. I can feel it. I stop for a second while the others walk ahead. Squatting down, I scoop a handful of black dirt into my hand. Rubbing my palms together, maybe for the last time, I perform my ritual. When I stand, Bax steps before me, a hard line between his brows.

“I know you’ve accepted what must happen,” he says, moving beside me to walk. “But I again ask you, are you sure?”

I inhale deep, breathing in the scent of earth and sulfur. The smell of the Otherworld. I never wanted to breathe this air again. I nod once to Bax. “How can I not trust Caben’s own mother?” It was Aurelia who produced the vial of coma-inducing drug to Bax before Lake brought them to the treehouse. It was her words that convinced Bax and the others that the drug was safe, used on mental patients in her ward—a last resort when no other treatment worked.

When Bax first told me of this plan to put Caben into a coma, I was angry. Hell, livid and unwilling to accept it. Putting Caben to sleep, maybe permanently, is almost as bad as death. Yet, given the alternative to death and an insane goddess on the loose, it’s
our
last resort.

When I stick Caben with the syringe, he will slip into a coma. Bale becomes subdued, trapped inside him while he sleeps. It saves his life, but the chance he may never wake is greater than the chance he will. Performed on a physically healthy person—once treatment is determined—they can be revived. That is, most of the time, according to our one expert.

But Caben is not healthy. He’s weak, drained, probably completely mad at this point, and most likely will never be brought out of his coma. He lives…but as a permanent vessel for Bale. Her new sarcophagus.

That is the grim probability that I had to face on our trek here. I wanted the truth, so I could make this choice with no reservations. And Bax gave me the truth, because he knows I will never forgive him if I believe otherwise.

Then, there
is
the slim prospect that the best physicians in the Three Realms may be able to bring Caben back. Once we discover a way to extract Bale from him safely. Most likely diving into more archaic and unpracticed magics. But at least this way gives us time to investigate.

The alternative I am not willing to consider.

Put Caben to sleep indefinitely. Or kill him.

Bax sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I am not asking whether or not you trust his mother about the drug.” He steps over a root in our path. “That is of little consequence now, Protector. I ask whether or not, when the moment comes, if
you
will be able to inject your prince?”

Ah. So Bax still doubts me. As he should. Because I’ve battled this question our entire way here. I wonder if there will ever be a day that he fully trusts me—or that I can trust myself. “Here’s one consolation for you, Bax,” I say, glancing at him. “I will not allow any other to do it. If it’s to be done, it will be by my hand. So yes, I’m ready.”

Without warning, the sound of battle hits my ears. I’m unprepared for it. The Nactue tense, falling into position and unsheathing their weapons. My stomach knots, and suddenly, there’s no more time to debate my choice.

Smoke plumes from the rocky buildings I now only see in my nightmares. Amber and blue flames dance along their rooftops, lick the ground and walls. The clang of weapons and guttural shouts rends the air. Explosions boom and quake the ground. No one is holding back in this fight; weapons of destruction have been called in. The battle won’t last long.

“Through, now!” I command.

As we take off running, I feel a strong sense of familiarity. Violent images of the Cage fights flash before my vision. Then the actual Cage itself. It rises up before me, all steel bars and imposing. A tremor travels my limbs. But I push on, trying not to see the many faces of the destroyed contenders.

Smoke curls into my eyes. I hear muffled coughs as the others trail my lead around the carnage—dead bodies that have been trampled. Bones of mutilated animals. Remains of machines.

Bypassing the waste of the massacre, I come up behind the battle. And I stop.

A shriek cuts through the clash of battle sounds, raising the hairs on my body. I feel Lena press close to me as she says, “I still have nightmares about the Grimmal.”

I can only nod. I do also…and the sight amid the battle will only add to them. The Grimmal—a mutated beast engineered by the Otherworlders; half snake, half spider—whips its scaly tail down on a unit of protectors. I see another creature in the distance, being attacked by the Perinyian army.

“We have to keep moving,” I say. Then swing my head to stare into her violet eyes that are still locked on the monsters. “I feel I don’t have to—”

“No, you don’t,” Lena says, turning her gaze on me. “I promise. I won’t hurt her. I love Lilly.”

I nod, accepting her vow for what it’s worth.

She raises her pale eyebrows as the others catch up. “Come on!” She waves her hand. “Into the madness, Nactue!”

We’ve got to move around, or else we’ll be sucked into the fray. I can’t chance losing any one of them. As we skirt the battle perimeter, I summon the strength and power I despise.

Knowing it’s Bale’s power that courses through me, her silvery tentacles of mercury lashing at my insides, I’m more than reluctant to depend on it. But I won’t allow my pride or fear to doom us.

The surge or power springs forth like quicksilver shooting through water. The force of it parts a path for us around the side of the main battle. Otherworlders and units effected by an unseen energy move aside, and we dart along the sideline, heading toward the place calling me with blistering fury.

Caben is there. I can sense not his presence, but Bale’s. The same way I felt her during the Cage fights—she’s close to ascending. She’s restricted by Caben’s limitations, but that doesn’t stop her from making contact.

With a slash of my sword, I trim the way for us through the clearing battle. The fight hasn’t made it past the tightly-woven city area. We still have time. We just have to stage this perfectly. Not too soon. Not too late.

Glancing up at the black ceiling, I almost pray for an opening to appear. I want to see the new moon for myself. It won’t be like anything we’ve witnessed before. I know this, because during the Reckoning, the eclipsed moon was Bale’s. This will be hers, too.

“Go on!”

I glance behind me at the sound of Lena’s voice. She shouts at Lilly as she slings her sword at an Otherworlder. Trying to go back for her, Lilly blocks a blow from an advancing Otherworlder to her right, getting them both trapped between the enclosing battle.

Shit. Looking ahead to gauge the distance we still have to go, I notice a swell of dark smoke forming over the temple’s tower. It’s starting.

Conflicted, I motion to Kaide. “Get them out!” Then I order the rest of our group to move forward. I have to trust that Kaide, Lilly, and Lena will follow behind us. Because there is no time left.

If I do survive, this may be one of the hard choices I come to regret.

As we reach the rickety bridge leading to the temple, I look back. A unit of protectors is pushing their way through the battle toward us.

“We can’t fight them all,” Bax shouts. And I agree. I glance at the bridge, thinking of a way to destroy it once we’re across—but Lilly…she hasn’t made it yet…

“Go now,” Bax says, nodding toward the temple. “We’ll hold them off for as long as we can. Just do not falter, Protector.”

A hard lump forms in my throat. I open my mouth to tell him…something. Some semblance of goodbye, but my heart won’t allow the words to come. I look over the battle to where I last saw Lilly. That moment has passed, too. But what could I have told any of them? I didn’t want this to be our end. I refused to accept it until the last moment. Anger and frustration and shame tear through me.

But as I’m trying to accept this as our only goodbye, I see wisps of her red hair through the fray. A heavy breath whooshes from my mouth. I was forced to watch Willa being taken from us. I’m at least grateful to the universe for sparing me that horror with Lilly.

“Go.
Now!
” Bax yells in my ear as the battle heightens into a cacophony of clangs and blasts.

Before I turn to race over the bridge, I glimpse both Lena and Lilly, and then Kaide, fighting their way toward the line that Bax, Whip, and Kai have formed before the stream of mercury. Meeting Lilly’s resolute gaze, I nod once, then I latch on to Aurelia’s arm.

She’s coming with me.

The temple door is open. I only see darkness within the foyer as I lead Aurelia over the bridge, our feet swallowing plank after plank.

A thunderous
boom
sounds from all around. As if thunderclouds crashed simultaneously from every corner of the realm. The bridge rocks and sways. I fasten one hand to a keystone in the center of the bridge. Aurelia grips my other hand, trying to stay steady while she releases sobs. I can just hear her over the rumbling aftershock rolling through the Otherworld.

Then, as the bridge rights and I’m regaining balance, my gaze is drawn to the sky. A swell of fast-moving clouds gather in a vortex over the temple’s tower. Each skeletal finger of the claw-shaped tower is lit and blinking like a signal to the smoke rings above….because it has to be smoke. There’s no sky…no clouds.

My mind quits its debate when in the midst of the gathering storm a dim light begins to pulse, becoming brighter with each beat. From there, a beam strikes down, illuminating the whole realm. It travels from the sky to the tower in a contrasting brilliance—the celestial white of the moon. Almost as if the moon itself is funneling its luminance into one, singular channel.

The rock ceiling begins to crumble.

I wrap my arms around Aurelia, stifling her whimpers as I attempt to protect her from the raining debris. Mercury splashes up on us as large stones hit the stream. I’m pelted with jagged edged rocks like hail. Shading my eyes with my forearm, I look up.

The beam tears a seam into the ceiling to reveal the true sky. Not a projection like in the Cage for the Reckoning. I regret my wish to see the moon. The edges continue to concave as the hole spreads. The beam demolishes the tower, the claw’s crooked fingers breaking off one-by-one to reveal…

Moonstone.

Beneath the stone, a sheen of iridescent white and blue refracts the light. The whole temple is made of the moon goddess’s summoner.

My one thought:
Caben
.

Blocking us from the shower of stone and dirt and mercury, I rush Aurelia toward the temple.

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