Blakeshire (Insight #9)(100)

“Go. Now,” he said, nodding to the opening of the cavern.

I moved to my feet and struggled to get to the mouth of it. I didn’t know what I was going to do to get out of here.

My first idea was for me to see my way up there, stand before that crowd, then send someone to help me, but I was more than a little leery about leaving my body there.

The rumble that shook the cavern at that moment backed up that point. I grasped the wall, trying with everything I had not to lose that knife.

I could see the water below, see it charging upward once again. I was about to be flooded. I frantically glanced back at Preston; the image of him was gone.

I looked forward again and made a split second decision. I jumped, landing deep in that water but managing to swim up to the foaming top of the surface. I let it charge me forward, keeping my eye on the sky above. My body was against the wall. I clasped the stones and took control of my ascent.

I was almost to the top, but the water was losing its power. I knew it was about to fall again, leaving me no less than six feet short of where I needed to be.

I latched onto the steps that were feet below the opening.

I don’t know why or how I had the time to think about it, but I remembered how fast I had seen Drake move before, how he said it was like moving your soul but using more energy. I only had one shot at this, and that was it.

Above me, I could feel grief and rage in the emotions of the crowd. They thought I had failed. I was running out of time. I had to emerge soon.

I focused my mind, body, and soul and thrust myself forward. I felt myself soaring forward.

It all happened so fast. As my body flew upward, an unseen energy grasped me and pulled me in a different direction than where I was aiming. My feet were now on the ledge, the sky was above me, and for some reason I had that knife in my hand—aimed at Britain’s neck. An instant internal war started then. I knew deep down that on some level—whether it was past, present, or future—Britain was an enemy of mine, someone that I would have no choice but to bring down one day, but I knew today was not that day. Something inside of me told me that if I struck him, my end would come—not his.

Within the next beat of my heart, I fought the invisible hold of energy that was forcing me to stand in front of him and appeared on the other side of the opening.

Alamos was now inches before me, and if I could see his face I was sure that I would see him glaring at me.

On instinct, the knife in my hand was aimed at his chin, and something felt so natural about that. Something inside of me told me he was more than a betrayer of Drake; he was an enemy that I had crossed before. He was one of five, one of the five I had to kill to master my emotion of obsession. One that deserved death.

Drake stepped up on the ledge with me. He wrapped his hand around my hand and the knife. I was sure he was about to stop me from hurting the man he thought was his father figure.

I made no effort to struggle with him as I stared into the inky abyss of who was supposed to be Alamos. One way or another, I would kill this man before me. Of that I was sure—had never been surer about anything. He had to die in order for me to reach my next goal, my next challenge.

Holding my stare, tightening his hand around mine, Drake drove that knife right through Alamos’ chin. I heard the collective gasp from the entire kingdom.

There was a sharp pain in my lower back, a burn. It seized my breath, but that fleeting pain was quickly overshadowed. The ground rumbled violently, then what was Alamos began to break apart and black smoke that reeked of rotten eggs escaped him.

The sky above us began to turn, and as it did a wicked wind picked up and pulled that dark energy up with it, leaving no trace of Alamos whatsoever.

That instant, the largest bolt of lightning I had ever seen struck dead center in the hole I had just climbed out of.

That lightning caused a blast of fire to blossom from the opening. Drake had shielded his energy around the pair of us, so for anyone watching it looked as if we were standing calmly within a raging ball of flames.

As the fire fell back into the hole, the spinning dark sky vanished, the sun broke free, and a soft wind emerged from the hole. That was when solid white ashes that looked like diamonds swirling in the air emerged. The wind carried those ashes far past the crowd below into the distant fields. As they landed, flowers bloomed instantly and the grass became lush and green.

As if nothing had happened, Drake leaned down and retrieved my locket from where it had fallen when Alamos had disintegrated. He placed the locket over my head, winked once at me, then turned to Xavier. “Proof.”

Xavier huffed. “Britain’s life was spared by her, you do realize that? She killed your best confidant over him.”

“She survived,” Drake said boldly.

Britain was pulled down from the ledge and placed next to Xavier.

Drake led me down the steps, then to the ledge of the roof where his people stood in utter silence.

“Your court, the men who speak for you, demanded proof that this woman who was chosen by the Creator Himself to court your future king was worthy…you stood with me…you witnessed this action with me.”

He paused as his eyes seemed to connect with each one of them.

“You have all heard the stories. The ones you whisper to your children at night, of the queen that will come to stand with your king. You have heard the stories that say she will be tested, and upon that test she will not only prevail, but clearly point to the evil that has chained us, that she will set you free.