Rise (The Order of the Krigers #1)(80)

Chapter Twenty-Two


I opened my eyes. Anders was staring down at me, his hands gently holding either side of my face, my head resting on his lap.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice weak, vision blurry.

“You healed him,” he said, his eyes glowing with pride.

“How long have I been like this?”

“Only about ten minutes.”

“All the Krigers are safely in the tunnel,” Vidar said from somewhere close by. “I sealed it up behind them.”

“We’re not going with them?” I asked.

Vidar came into my line of sight. “No. We’re going to lure the soldats away from them. Too many of the Krigers are weak and injured to survive an encounter with the King’s Army.”

My arms and legs were numb. There was no way I’d be able to stand, let alone walk. How would I help lead everyone away from the Krigers?

Anders stood with me cradled in his arms. A tingling sensation radiated through the core of my body. “Morlet is searching for me.”

Vidar took a step closer, and I reached out, touching the medallion. Calm poured over me like warm water.

“Here, you carry her.” Anders handed me to Vidar and my fingers curled around the medallion. Anders picked up my bo staff, and we made our way down the hallway.

“As soon as you’re feeling better,” Vidar whispered, “we’ll announce our presence and lead the soldats on a merry chase through the capital.”

I was still weak and lethargic, but the dizziness and cold sensation were gradually improving. “How will we make our presence known?”

He chuckled. “We’ll blow something up and allow Morlet to connect with you for a moment.”

We reached the great hall and Vidar came to an abrupt halt. One lone figure strode across the room. When he saw us, he froze.

Morlet.

Dressed in his usual black cape, he looked from me to Vidar, and then back again. He slowly glided forward until we stood a mere ten feet apart. “I take it this is who has been helping you,” he curtly said.

Vidar gently set me on my feet, and Anders slid my weapon to my hands. I clutched onto it for support.

“Kaia,” Anders murmured, “I want you to run. We’ll take care of him.”

I shook my head, wanting to yell at them to run so I could deal with Morlet on my own, but they’d never listen. There was no way possible for Vidar and Anders to fight Morlet and survive. I couldn’t let them sacrifice their lives for mine. I was the one with the power and the one who had to face the king.

“Kaia,” Anders said. “Go.”

“No,” I replied. “We stay together.”

“Such hatred in your eyes,” Morlet purred, taking a step closer.

“You tortured me.” I took a step toward him. Both Anders and Vidar tensed. My bo staff hummed with intense power, begging to be unleashed on Morlet. The book about Krigers that Vidar had given me warned against such foolishness. I couldn’t kill him on my own. His magic was far greater than mine. Yet, I had to find a way to get Anders and Vidar safely out of here.

Morlet reached his black gloved hands up, removing his hood. “Kaia,” he whispered, his beautiful face twisted in agony. “What have you done?”

I prayed the Krigers were deep in the forest by now and the soldats wouldn’t be able to catch up with them. “I had to set them free.”

He shook his head, his blue eyes penetrating into mine. Our bodies linked together—his power flowing into me. Gut-wrenching emotions of complete loss and utter devastation bombarded me. I fell to my knees, willing the assault to stop.

“Kaia!” Anders screamed. “Don’t look into his eyes!”

Morlet waved his hand and a blue glass-like dome went up around the two of us. Anders banged on the dome, unable to reach me.

“You killed Skog Heks,” Morlet whispered, kneeling next to me and taking my free hand in his. “I can’t return my power to her.” He squeezed my hand. “I’m stuck with dark magic forever.” His pleading eyes sought mine. “What am I to do? Now there’s no chance of salvation. No hope.”

“I’m sorry.” His feelings of depression and self-loathing filled me, and I hunched over. His cold hand touched my cheek, and warmth filled my body as he gave me some of his magic.

Two strong hands yanked me away from him. Vidar lifted me and my bo staff, walking right out of the dome.

“Impossible,” Morlet said. “How did you do that?”

Vidar set me on my feet next to Anders. “I’m only going to do this once,” he said, “so pay attention.” He removed the medallion and handed it to me.

Morlet’s eyes widened, and his face drained of all color.

Vidar grabbed the medallion and put it back on. “This has been protecting me the entire time.”

“I thought you died, brother.”

“I escaped.”

They were brothers? That didn’t make any sense. Morlet had told me he was the prince and his parents—the king and queen—had been killed by someone Skog Heks hired. But … he had also told me that he had an older brother set to inherit everything. A brother who had been murdered, too. Was Vidar that brother? And if so, then Vidar was the rightful heir to the throne. How could he have kept this from me?