Chapter 48

CHAPTER 48

FINN

Fire in his veins and thunder in his head drove Finn forward. The queen was safe, Roland was with her and the knights – his knights – were free, reclaiming the city. The Aurum had granted him all he had asked. He could feel the coiling press of magic coming through him, winding around him and pursuing him. It was in the earth and the air, in the stones of the walls and in the ground beneath his feet. It reverberated with his heart and it was joy, fierce and terrible.

Mine , the Aurum cried out inside him. You are mine and always will be. My champion and my servant and my vessel, my strong right arm and my righteous heart.

It was a song and an exultation and the power of that great and endless light flowed from him into all those around him. All over the city he could feel the knights regaining their strength and their courage, his people rising up and driving away their invaders. Battle was brief and glorious. He revelled in it, feeling the strength of his people , those he had sworn to protect and who in turn were sworn to him.

The pull of the Sacrum dragged at him. He needed to be there. That was his place, his duty and his destiny. He fought his way through the enemy without seeing them, his movements fluid and sure, his knights following him.

The other spirits of magic were gathering as well. He recognised them only as distant things. They were no threat to him. Not yet.

All but one.

The Nox was here. He could feel her now, a pull deep in his chest, as if he had been hooked through his ribcage and dragged towards her.

This was their fate, their moment.

He would confront her in his place of power and kill her. Finally, once and for all, he would be triumphant and the Nox, eternal enemy, opposite of all he stood for, would be no more. She would fall before him and he would have saved his people.

All of them.

He threw open the doors from the palace, light tearing them apart to make way for him, and stepped into the Sacrum.

She stood in the centre, while people knelt around her in abject surrender. She was dressed as a queen, and the dark crown on her head glimmered with its own light. Around her throat a choker of silver, crusted with diamonds, glittered, the metal crawling against her skin, alive with her dark magic. Similarly magically imbued metal crawled up and down her arms, twisting into long curved knives which covered her hands in a filigree of silver. The blades were viciously sharp, curving over the ends of her fingers, and as she turned to face him, the tips scraped against stone, with a line of sparks.

She faced him and he knew her.

His heart, treacherous and weak, almost came to a halt as Finn…Finn, not the Aurum…Finn recognised her.

Wren.

Because of course it was Wren.

For a moment something in him tore and he was just himself again, the man who loved her, who had sacrificed everything for her and would continue to do so.

And then the fire rushed back, furious to be thwarted, to see her standing there, armed and waiting – the eternal enemy of the Aurum, the dark to its light – waiting for him in his place of power, and to have him pause.

No, he thought, no. Not mine. I’m not the Aurum.

But the Aurum didn’t seem to agree.

You are a sworn Knight of the Aurum and I have bestowed my light on you, blessed you and made you whole. I have purged all darkness from you, just as you always wanted. You will obey. Or you will burn.

He was already burning. That was hardly a threat. He had been burning since the first moment he saw her.

‘Wren,’ he said.

She lifted her chin and gazed at him, with all the imperiousness of a goddess. And she was still beautiful. She was everything he had ever wanted.

The sword in his hand was dark with shadow-wrought steel but it ignited as he raised it in salute, glowing like a hot iron in a fire.

‘Brother,’ said Leander. ‘This is not your place, unless you are here to die. I am the king of Ilanthus now and you will never take my crown.’

Finn almost laughed. Not his place? Leander had no idea. As for the crown of Ilanthus, he didn’t want it. He never had. He had only ever wanted one thing.

‘I am here to serve the light, and I stand in the place of the Aurum. I made my vows here and I will carry them out as promised. Every vow I have ever made.’

The Aurum roared in the back of his brain and a shudder ran down his spine. It was pleased then. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

‘No, this is your place,’ Wren said, and her voice rippled with power. He felt the light in him recoil from the darkness in her and for a moment he was frozen in shock. So much power. She was rooted in the energies of this place, her whole being linked to the Nox now, the roots of her power sunken in old magic, drawing on its strength. Even the Aurum seemed taken aback. She was still Wren, yes, but she was also so much more. ‘And you are here to die. Both things can be true, prince of Sidon.’ She glanced at Leander and the look was not kind. ‘For both of you.’

‘I’ll kill him for you, lady,’ Leander assured her. ‘I’ll stand as your champion and spill his blood, just as it should have been years ago. He was sworn to you first, given to you, and he should have died for you.’

‘He has died for me, Leander,’ she murmured. ‘And will again. But you may proceed. You may stand as champion, if you will. Prove yourself to me as your brother did. Not as conqueror, or as king. As a man. If you kill him, perhaps I will reconsider your fate.’

The cold eagerness in her made Finn want to take a step back. She might still look like Wren, but she didn’t sound like her, not anymore. Was he really too late?

She sank into her throne, still ringed by dark flames where the Aurum once burned, ensconced in its place of power. The Aurum growled at the sight but simmered low inside him, preserving its power for the battle ahead.

Show me your devotion then, Finnian Ward , it told him . You gave up your name and your lineage for me once. You swore to serve me in every way. Now you must prove your loyalty. Now you must be my flame and my sword.

Ironic, since the only sword he had now came from the stronghold of the Nox, and she looked on impassively as his brother drew his own blade, the royal sword of Ilanthus. Finn had almost died on Leander’s sword too many times. He would have if not for Wren. The look of hunger Leander wore told him that this time, as before, no quarter would be given. His brother had everything to fight for, nothing left to lose. He had already won, in many ways. Wren was the Nox and they had taken Pelias. Asteroth was his and the Aurum was trapped. All he needed to do was beat Finn to hold onto it all.

And he’d done that before.

Finn’s throat tightened, suddenly dry and choked with cobwebs of doubt. He couldn’t beat Leander. He had never been able to best him in a fight. He had lost Wren, lost the kingdom he loved, and he was going to die. The surety of it weighed down on him with the shadows of this place, once bright and glorious and the source of all his hopes, now made dark and terrible.

‘Finn…Prince Finnian…’ He knew that voice. It came from the ragged group of prisoners. He looked that way to see Laurence Rayden there. Leander had been indulging the more bullying aspects of his nature on the boy. He bore marks of a savage beating, but his eyes shone with belief and when they turned on Finn, something unexpected sparked inside him. ‘This is what she saw. She told me.’

Hestia…he had to be talking about Hestia. In the Sacrum of the Aurum, the princes of Sidon, watched by the Nox enthroned and crowned…how had she known?

Finn shook his head. He didn’t want the crown. He certainly didn’t want to fight Leander for it.

He was a Knight of the Aurum. He was a Paladin in its service. He held the last remnant of the bright power he served. He had no choice, no matter what the outcome might be.

If Leander would champion the Nox in an effort to win her favour, Finn had to meet him.

He hefted his sword in his hands and joined battle with Leander, a furious clash of blade on blade, giving up all that he was and all that he had been to the light he had sworn to serve.