Island of Glass (The Guardians Trilogy #3)(99)

Sawyer shook his head. “Trying to bring her ride down, but these things block it. They keep coming.”

He slapped in another clip, and Riley saw blood dripping down his hand.

“We need cover. We need to—”

“Die here!” Nerezza screamed. “Die here, and I feed on your power. All that you are is mine. This world, and all die with you.”

She shot down flame. Annika deflected the first, but the second ball exploded in front of her, sent her flying back. Sawyer rushed to her as one of Sasha’s bolts killed the creature before its sharp wing scored Annika’s face.

“Into the circle. Lure her into the circle,” Sasha shouted. “I think— Bran!”

“Yes, yes. The power. I’ll draw her in.”

“Leave that to me. What’s she going to do?” Doyle demanded. “Kill me? Keep her off Riley.” He fought his way closer to the circle, managed to turn to meet Riley’s eye. “This isn’t Malmon. Aim for the heart. Drive her to me, push her to me. Some magick wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’ll have it.” Bran hurtled lightning at Nerezza’s flank. “Keep the pressure on her.”

“She’ll go for Doyle.” Teeth gritted, Riley fired. “Once she sees he’s alone.”

“But he’s not alone,” Sasha reminded her.

Bran leaped on one of the stones, hurled a vial of light. As it exploded, the Cerberus screamed in pain. The slash of its tail missed Bran by inches as he jumped clear. But the maneuver turned Nerezza toward Doyle in the heart of the stone circle.

“Immortal. Burn and bleed.”

He rolled away from the fire, jumped clear of that lashing tail. Closer, he thought. Just a little closer.

“Bitch,” he called back. “This time I’ll cut out your heart. Sword to sword. God to god!”

“You are no god.” When she swooped, he struck, but her quick turn had him slicing the side of her beast. The sword he’d carried for centuries snapped in two like a toy. “And that is no sword.”

Bran threw lightning to draw her off as Doyle pulled his knife. As he pivoted, the Cerberus clawed his back, struck him down.

The others rushed toward the circle. As the blood of an immortal, a guardian stained the glass, light burst like a bomb. It sent Riley sprawling, had her ears thundering, her breath lost. Through the haze she saw Bran struggling to his knees, heard Sawyer cursing. And saw Doyle unarmed, alone.

Overhead Nerezza laughed. “Can you grow your head back, immortal?”

She dived, a sword raised over her head.

Like Bran, Riley struggled to her knees, knew she’d never make it. “Doyle!”

When he turned his head, she saw the pain in his eyes, the regret. “Bullshit on that. Catch!”

She threw the sword, and all her faith.

He lifted his hand, closed his fist around the hilt. With a warrior’s cry, he sprang up, whirled away from Nerezza’s sword. He drove the Sword of Glass through her heart.

She didn’t scream. The beast beneath her, all those that flew or crawled sizzled away like water in the sun or melted like ugly chalk drawings in the rain.

Day burst back to life.

She fell into the circle, the mother of lies, eyes glazed with fear and madness.

“I am a god.” She croaked it out as her hair thinned, as her flesh shriveled.

Doyle gripped the sword in both hands. “You’re nothing.” And plunged it into her heart again.

The blood bubbled black. Her fingers became bones that clacked together. “I want. I want.” Black eyes wheeled as the flesh of the face flaked away.

Doyle gripped Riley’s hand when she limped to him. Looked around once as the others, bruised, burned, bloody, came with her. “We ended you.”

She withered to bone without a sound, and the bone went to ash.

“She can’t come back?” Annika hugged close to Sawyer. “She’s gone?”

“Look.” Bran gestured.

The hundreds of branches of the tree leafed out green, bloomed with fruit and flowers. The air, so full of the sounds of battle only moments before, now sang with birds and breezes. A doe wandered out of the woods to crop at the grass.

The stones stood silver and shining on the hill of Glass. The king stone bore the guardians’ coat of arms.

“Good answer.” Then Sawyer dropped to his knees. “Sorry. Ow.”

“Let’s have a look. We’ll do what we can here,” Bran added, “then—”

“We’ve only to ask,” Sasha remembered. “I’m asking for us to be brought back. If we’ve done what we were meant to do.”

“You really think they’re just going to— Oh,” Riley said as she found herself, and the others, standing at the start of the path. “Excellent.”

They began to limp and wince their way toward the palace.

“We couldn’t just wish to be healed?” Annika wondered.

“People should see their warriors. They should see what it costs to stand for the light,” Doyle told her, and put an arm around her to support her. “To do what’s needed.”

They wept, and they cheered as the six passed by. And wept and cheered all the way to the doors of the palace where the goddesses waited.

“We will tend you now.” Celene stepped forward, raised her voice. “Tonight, there will be celebration. Tonight is for music and dancing, for wine, for joy. Tonight is now and forevermore, the Night of the Guardians.”