Crowned (Beholder #4)(62)

Rowan wasn’t doing much better himself. “I’m too tired. I can’t recharge.”

“We need help.” My gaze ran across the orange totem ring on my own hand. An idea formed. “Whatever power you have, focus it into your totem ring. Maybe we can summon Mlinzi and Walinzi.” It was an outlandish plan, but as least it was one.

“Right.” Rowan glared at his own totem ring with such intensity, I was surprised the metal didn’t disintegrate under his stare.

For my part, I channeled my paltry bit of Necromancer energy into my orange band while repeating the same thoughts, over and over. “We need you. Help us.”

At the same time, Viktor and his army of Changed Ones rampaged closer. Viktor ran before his warriors, a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

I stared down at my hand. The last time the totem ring activated, it glowed orange. Now, the metal looked ordinary and dull. The same was true with Rowan’s ring.

The plan to summon the trickster gods wasn’t working.

Time to fight.

It took a huge effort, but I was able to force myself to face turn and face Viktor straight on. I imagined myself standing strong and tall but in reality, I mostly wobbled. Reaching out with my mage senses, I pulled in whatever Necromancer energy I could find. Another pathetic stream of power wound up my arm. If I got lucky, I might be able to cast a fireball spell. One.

Rowan stood by my side. His hand glowed red, too, and the light of his magick was just as weak as mine.

Viktor was closing in.

Twenty yards.

Ten.

One.

My brother paused before us and raised the Sword of Theodora high. “I told you that you’d power the gateways for me. Thank you for my empire.”

He never got the chance to lower his blade.

All of a sudden, the gateway behind us flared with orange light. The stone arch burst as two gigantic monkeys leapt onto the meadow. It was Mlinzi and Walinzi, and they were angrier than I’d ever seen them.

“Kill!” cried Mlinzi.

Viktor stood frozen in shock, the blade still held above in head. “What in the worlds are you?”

Walinzi pursed her long lips. “I’ve seen this one. He causes you trouble, doesn’t he, Elea?”

“He was about to run me through with a sword, actually.” I was proud of how little I slurred my words.

“Yes, brother. You may kill him. Use the Sword.”

Mlinzi hopped up and down, crying out “ooo-ooo-ooo” noises as he swiped the Sword of Theodora from Viktor and jammed the blade through my brother’s chest. A beam of crimson light flared up from the wound. At the same time, the last rays of the Martyr’s Comet cast the meadow in a blood-red glow.

Viktor howled, pain etched into his pale features. He wasn’t a willing sacrifice, and agony was the result. It felt as if a year slowly passed while he died. In reality, it was probably a matter of seconds before my brother was gone.

The meadow’s grounds rumbled beneath our feet. Great fissures opened up in the earth. The Martyr’s Comet flared its brightest shade of red yet. We were almost out of time.

“Quickly,” I said. “We need to place Viktor’s body on the gateway.”

Rowan bent down to lift Viktor in his arms, but Walinzi was too fast for him. She scooped up my brother’s body and chucked it into a nearby gateway with all the ceremony of tossing out an old banana peel. I suppose that’s what she thought of him in the end: garbage.

Like I’d seen in the vision with Kila Kitu, Viktor’s dead body flared with violet light, a brightness that seeped into the gateway around him before being transferred into the surrounding arches. One by one, the nearby gateways lit up with searing violet light. The earth rumbled as the great breaks in the ground pressed back together.

Our world was healing.

Viktor was dead.

It didn’t seem possible, but it was happening all the same. I made a mental note to visit every Seer and spell Caster who’d said it was impossible for Viktor to become the sacrifice and explain to them what had actually happened. In detail.

The light from the Martyr’s Comet disappeared. Viktor’s body became transparent as a ghost’s, and then he was gone as well.

Across the meadow, the bone wall cast by Petra crumbled into dust. Beyond it, I could see how the Necromancers and Casters had turned into a combined army in order to defeat Petra. Her body lay lifeless on the earth. My eyes stung with sadness. She hadn’t been evil so much as weak, and it cost her everything.

Walinzi plunked down beside me, fanning herself with the end of her long orange tail. “It seems you and your mate are now rulers of an empire. What do you plan to do with it?”

There was no question on that count. I turned to Rowan. “Are you thinking the same that I am?”

Rowan gave me one of his most crooked smiles. “We’ll hold a festival that will be the greatest ever seen.”

“Precisely. We’ll need to be crowned—both of us—and we’ll hold the ceremony right here. You and Mlinzi are invited, of course.”

Walinzi kept fanning herself with her tail. “We’ll check our schedule.”

Across the meadow, the Caster army whooped with joy. Many pulled out skins of whiskey and passed them around. Another group broke into song, the words lauding all the glories of Rowan and me. A few Necromancers even joined in the tune.