Last Dragon Standing (Heartstrikers #5)(96)

“Go away.”

“No,” Julius said, crouching at the pool’s edge so Marci could climb down. “We went through a lot of trouble to get here, and we’re not leaving until we speak with you.”

Considering the finality of their situation, Julius fully expected Algonquin to tell him to sit there until they all died. To his surprise, though, the watery hand reemerged, followed by an arm, and then a body as Algonquin hauled herself out of the tiny puddle, her blank-mirror face still managing to glare somehow when it turned to reflect his own.

“Come to beg for your life, dragon?” she whispered, her once-roaring voice now as quiet as a spring rain. “I’m afraid you’re too late. It’s over. I’ve won.”

“Won?” Marci cried, stepping forward with Ghost in her arms. “You fed us to a Nameless End! That’s not you winning. That’s everyone losing!”

“Typical human,” Algonquin said. “Ignorant to the bitter end. But make no mistake, this will be your end, not ours.”

“If you believe that, you’re delusional,” Marci said, her face furious. “I’ve been to the Sea of Magic, Algonquin. Your monster is getting ready to eat a lot more than just dragons and humans.”

“But not forever.” The spirit lifted her watery head proudly. “The End and I struck a deal. I give him myself, all current magic, every living thing, and the rest of our world down to the bedrock, and in return, he promised to leave the land when he moves on. It may be barren rock for a long time, but eventually, life will return. New spirits will rise from that barren ground, and the world will be reborn.” Her murky water curled into something like a smile. “A new world, clean and pure. A world without you.”

Marci clenched her shaking fists, but Algonquin’s words actually gave Julius hope. He’d known she wouldn’t truly destroy the world. It went too hard against everything he’d heard about her, and what she’d said herself. Her dream had always been to return to the time when the Spirits of the Land were the only spirits. From that perspective, sacrificing herself to the Leviathan so he could eat their world down to the core made a twisted sort of sense. Spirits were eternal. So long as land existed in some form, they would always rise again. They could afford to wait the eons it would take things to recover, especially since, without humans or dragons, there’d be no competition getting in their way. Algonquin clearly saw herself as a martyr, trading her life for a better future for everyone. There was just one catch.

“Do you really believe he’ll stop?”

Algonquin’s head snapped toward him. “You have no right to question me, worm!” she cried, her muddy water boiling. “It is because of you and the humans that I was forced to do this!”

“We didn’t force you to do anything,” Julius said calmly. “You chose to make a deal with the Leviathan. But what assurance do you have that he’s going to stop where he said he would? He’s a Nameless End. That doesn’t leave much room for compromise.”

Algonquin tilted her head, distorting the reflection of Julius’s face as her water rippled. “I remember you. You’re the little Heartstriker from Reclamation Land. The one who talked too much.”

“That’s me,” Julius said. “But this needs to be talked about. You’re gambling everything on the word of a planar force whose existence revolves around doing the one thing he’s promising you he won’t. He could eat this entire plane the moment he finishes you off, and you wouldn’t even know. How can you trust him?”

“A fine question from a dragon,” the spirit said coldly. “Your kind has no concept of faith or obligation. But you’re right. He is untrustworthy, but no more so than the rest of you. I’d rather gamble on his honor than put my faith in the humans and their Mortal Spirits. At least the Nameless End is honest about his desire to destroy.”

She turned to Marci and Ghost as she said this, her reflective face throwing back a distorted image of their growing anger.

“How did you get this twisted?” Marci cried, clutching her spirit. “How can you trust a creature who eats planes over your fellow spirits? He’s the inimical alien force here, not us! The magic that I use and that makes up Ghost is no different from the magic that fills your lakes. We’re the same. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because it’s not true!” Algonquin cried, rising up in a fury. “I am the land! You are simply an out-of-control infection, and that thing you call spirit”—she threw out her hand toward Ghost so hard, the muddy water of her fingers splashed onto his white fur—“is nothing more than the power you’ve surrendered to your out-of-control emotions! If I’d done nothing, my kind would be yours to abuse and exploit just as you exploited our land while we slept.” She flung her arm out at Marci next, pointing an accusing watery finger in the mage’s face. “You pushed me to this! This is all your fault!”

She was shaking so hard by the time she finished, her face could no longer hold a reflection. Julius could practically see the two-headed monster of rage and fear consuming what little was left of the once great Lady of the Lakes in front of his eyes. But though she’d been his kind’s greatest enemy since they’d come here, all he felt for her now was pity.

“This isn’t you, Algonquin.”