Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(108)

The crowd erupted in cheers; the priest waited for it to die away. “The death of a criminal, the young man before us now, will be the first of many steps in reestablishing our old alliance and fostering peace, instead of war, between nations.”

“Kill the traitor!”

“Make him suffer!”

Shouts rose up as the people surged forward, calling for blood, but the priest held up a stiff hand, shaking his long gray locks in disgust.

“Our gods punish those in time, but we, as a race, are not one without compassion. We shall let the young man speak.”

The crowd was silent.

“Speak, boy.” The elder turned to Darren. “If you have anything to say to your gods and the people you’ve wronged, say it now or forever hold your tongue.”

My jaw clenched as I scanned the crowd again for Alex. This was it. This was the time.

Where is he?

“Good c-citizens of Jerar…” Darren’s voice brought me back to the stands. “I have failed you.”

A cry rose in the square and someone else’s jeer echoed the first.

“I called on a war that was not n-needed.” A lump rose and fell in Darren’s throat as one of his guards reached for the rope at his left. “I was not the king you deserve, and as… as such, I shall…” His eyes were scanning the crowd as he searched for someone below.

My heart slammed my ribs.

He was looking for me, but I was missing. Darren’s gaze passed right over my face.

“…Suffer this crime without your forgiveness… I only p-pray—”

Another angry shout cut the prisoner off, and then another. An elbow found my ribs as the crowd surged.

My gaze broke off as I desperately sought my brother below. Alex should have used the flask by now. Something was wrong.

“—That you never make my mistake… T-that you cherish… the ones t-that you l-love—”

Darren’s gasp brought my eyes to the stage. Blood was trickling down the side of his face.

Someone had lobbed a rock at the prisoner in chains.

Someone else threw the next.

And then all restraint released. I shoved my way forward just as the guard jerked Darren back to his feet.

Darren was still choking the words as they lifted the noose above his head.

“A-and that… you see beyond y-your hate… To truth—”

I couldn’t hear him anymore as I clawed my way forward with everyone else. There were too many. So many bodies.

Everyone else was running forward too. I’d never make it in time.

My fist found someone to my left. I thrust the cane into someone’s ribs.

The crowd was bellowing for blood.

A large man’s boot found my heel as my fingers grasped another woman’s braid.

“Kill the pig!”

“Peace for Jerar!”

“Death to the traitor king!”

And I screamed Darren’s name at the top of my lungs, but my voice was lost to the rest.

I was running.

I was calling on magic that wouldn’t come.

I was fighting my way forward as a third guard pulled the lever at Darren’s right.

The trap door swung.

The panels dropped.

And Darren was in the air, his feet dangling five yards above the ground below.

His neck swung from the rope.

“Noooooo!”

Everything was red. I was screaming and the dagger was in my hand. I extended my arm at the stage, taking aim just above his head.

And the grounds exploded in smoke.

Thick, wafting gas surrounded us, black and heavy, tasting like ash.

Alex.

The crowd broke out into chaos with cries and shrieks of alarm. Instead of forward, the bodies turned toward me. They were now a stampede of shadows, and I was the one shoving back.

Coughing, I ran with the hand holding the dagger covering my face. I couldn’t make out the guards from the crowd, but any time a hand caught my wrist, I swung.

My cane was long forgotten in the chaos that ensued. I used one hand to pummel as I shoved my way past the fleeing crowd.

Darren.

My heart was beating itself out of my chest; I couldn’t feel anything but the heavy slam against my ribs as the world roared in my ears.

My eyes locked on the dim outline of the gallows ahead. Five more seconds passed and the smoke cleared enough to take in the rope.

It was swinging without an anchor.

My legs were searing as I lunged.

The noose had been cut. Darren was missing.

…Our plan.

Did Ella make it in time?

And then I noticed two shadows near the edge of the crowd, not five yards from the gallows’ base. One figure dragging another through the smoke.

Quinn’s voice rose above the din. “Get the traitors!”

And I knew.

I knew it was them.

There was a cluster of villagers blocking my way; I raised my knife and screamed at them to move. My fist sent the slowest to the ground, my muscles straining against my skin.

I was almost there.

There was more shouting and flares of color as magic shot back and forth across the crowd. Ella needed help; she couldn’t hold off an infantry by herself.

I dove and caught the nearest soldier unawares. He dropped his sword as my blade pressed against the back of his neck.