The Dire King (Jackaby #4)(76)

“The Seer has need of it,” Alina said. Her jaw was set, but her eyes were glistening with tears. “At this very moment, he is seeking to usurp the power that is rightfully yours. He’s there.” She pointed to the panel. Jackaby’s eyes went wide.

My blood froze. How could she? I began edging along the metal strut, inch by inch, until the platform was nearly within my reach.

Arawn took the black blade. Tears streamed down Alina’s stony face. She broke. “Please, my lord,” she said, suddenly, clutching pitifully at his robes. “Forgive the disloyalty of my family.”

“You seek a place in the coming kingdom?” the king said.

“I do.” She straightened.

Arawn nodded. “So be it,” he said. He turned. “Our friend the Seer would like to share my power?” My eyes shot to where Jackaby was hidden. The thin snake of blue light was still dancing across his arms. His face twitched involuntarily.

“Let it not be said that I am not a reasonable king,” said Arawn, turning a small dial, “a generous king.” Arawn flipped a switch. “I will let him have his share.”

There was a massive burst behind the control panel. The feeble ribbon of light dancing through Jackaby became a thick bolt of lightning. Jackaby was lifted off his feet, his whole body convulsing. His eyes clenched as the blast crackled violently through his chest. No! Losing Charlie had been too much. Jackaby could not die—not like this.

His spasms calmed for a fleeting moment, and Jackaby’s eyes opened. I held my breath. He locked his gaze on me, desperate and intense. His lips parted and he mouthed two words. I’m sorry. And then his eyes rolled back in his head. Arawn switched off the device. Under the light of the humming machinery, Jackaby’s lifeless body fell from the tower.

Ice rippled across the battlefield. The wave of cold hit my chest. I couldn’t breathe. A shimmer of silver danced around him as he fell, and Jenny Cavanaugh coalesced.

Some part of me saw her catch Jackaby. Some part of me saw her hold him, limp in her arms, saw her lower his body to the frozen earth. Some part of me saw the furious icy gale whipping around her as she lifted his unmoving arms and pressed them against his chest. Compressions. Jenny had always been a quick study. Some part of me saw the mad, manic, furious hope in her eyes as she pressed. Another part of me knew it was too late. Jenny’s efforts were in vain.

Jackaby was dead.

I knew, because the moment his life was snuffed out, a blaze was lit behind my eyes. It was as though I had been stumbling through the darkness my entire life and somebody had just flicked on a light. It was everything Jackaby had ever described. Halos in hues I had no names for bloomed in front of me. They were the colors of pain and courage and distress. There were tastes of the air my tongue could not name. The smell of turmoil. The feel of distress. I looked out over the fields below, and the bodies piled across the frosted earth took new forms in my eyes. They were brighter, more vivid, but also more broken. The visions were beautiful and mad and they were true. I knew that they were true. I knew.

The sight had been Jackaby’s beautiful burden and his terrible gift. And now it was mine.

“It is time,” Arawn said behind me. “Alina, give me their power. Give me the worlds and I will give you your kingdom.”

Alina’s hand trembled as she threw the switch, and the triple bolts shot out once more, hammering into the waiting king. This time, the light was more beautiful than I could describe. It was magic and science and love and hate and the beginning and the end. It was pure and raw. It was life.

Arawn was more brilliant than a hundred suns. I could now see it, roiling beneath his skin, bubbling inside him. The energy of countless lives, their power and potential. He held the black blade as the energy crackled into him. It looked small in his hands as he aimed it toward the sky, and my mind reeled as I looked up. I could just make out the threads of the veil above and all around us. If I concentrated I could see the intricate charms that spun together to hold our two worlds apart. I could also see them rupture under his will. Tears streamed down my face.

And then Arawn stopped. The powers within him were churning, red hot. Something was wrong.

“Rrrrrrraaaaaargh!” Arawn bellowed. “Turn it off!”

Alina’s hand did not tremble. “No,” she said.

The king’s eyes grew wide, blood red and enraged.

“Let it not be said I am not a reasonable queen,” said Alina. “A generous queen. I am Alina Cane. Suverana of the Om Caini.”

Arawn shuddered. The energy was burning him apart.

“You—” He shuddered, unable to escape the torment. The crackling energy streams would not release him. “You . . . bitch!” Arawn whipped the black blade through the air. It sank into Alina’s chest.

Alina looked down, startled. Slowly, she pulled it back out and dropped it beside her. The injury had already vanished.

“Hafgan’s shield,” I breathed. She hadn’t been groveling to the king after all—she had been pickpocketing him. Alina had the gem.

Arawn made a tortured sound that was neither human nor animal. He was beginning to glow so brightly I could hardly see him. My eyes watered. The metal beneath me shook. In another moment there was a sound like a hundred crystals all shattering into dust, and my vision went white. When the blinding light dimmed, the king was gone. The Dire Crown lay on its side in the center of the stage. Alina turned off the machine.