51. Declan
Chapter 51
Declan
D espite my best efforts at juggling between shielding the Mages’ tower and blasting the troops pouring into the city, my strength, and that of Saltstone’s normally peaceful Mages, was not enough.
Plumes of smoke rose for leagues as abandoned houses and shops were looted and burned. Fighting around the Merchants’ Guild and Army Compound turned orderly ranks into a brutal tangle of swords, blood, and death. Hundreds of Kingdom soldiers lay unmoving, but thousands of Melucian defenders slept underfoot.
Thousands upon thousands.
Roads and fields already covered in muddy slush were now slick with blood, and the reek of death and excrement carried far on crisp winter breezes.
The white-tipped mountains of the Spires snapped on their fields of deep green as Kingdom banners rose throughout the city. As if screaming the capital’s last act of defiance, the sword, quill, and Phoenix still soared above the Mages’ tower, despite the dead throughout most of the city.
“We are done, son. You are barely able to stand. Step out of the circle so we can surrender the tower.” Arch Mage Quin’s head rose as he groaned from the doorway.
“You said we can’t surrender the tower. We can’t give them its power, or that of the vein below.” I strained to maintain my shield around the edifice.
The raging river beneath the tower could have fueled me throughout eternity, but my human body could only channel so much power before needing rest. I had crossed my limit hours ago and was only standing thanks to the exhausted Mages crowded around me.
“I know—but it is over, Declan. We have lost. They executed General Vre and Guildmaster Burner an hour ago.” Quin looked up and met my eyes. “They burned them alive. Their screams were heard across . . . No one could . . . I could do nothing.”
The Arch Mage stepped forward on wobbly legs. A single tear fell down his cheek. I had never seen the man so ashen—or so frail.
“My Mages are exhausted. None of us has the strength to hold off their army. If we surrender, the Queen may let us live to help rebuild.”
“He is right, Declan. I know you don’t want to give up, but you are too important to die in this battle. We need to flee so we can fight another day.” órla’s voice echoed through my head, somber, yet still powerful. She flew from the window to my shoulder, then nuzzled my neck.
Weary tears of mind, body, and soul escaped to roll down my cheeks.
As I began to lower my arms and release my magic, the tower shuddered, knocking everyone off their feet.
The shield fell as I struck the floor.
“What the Spirits was that?” My eyes darted to Quin as he struggled to stand.
The Arch Mage gripped the back of his head. His hand came away coated in blood. His voice shook when he spoke. “I do not know. Nothing should be able to shake this tower, especially while your shield stands.”
Another violent tremor knocked me onto my back.
“Everyone out!” the Arch Mage shouted.
Wide-eyed Mages scrambled to their feet and toward the stairway.
Neither Quin nor I moved.
“Declan, go. I will defend the tower,” Quin pleaded. “My place is here. If we are ever to retake our country, the people will need you . Go!”
The sound of men screaming below filled the chamber, and Quin’s eyes lowered. He stood slowly and hobbled to the center of the circle, motioning for me to step aside. The gold-and-silver symbols embedded in the floor flared to life. Quicksilver light swelled around Quin, bathing him in a brilliant, shimmering aura that oozed with a life of its own. His eyes blazed, renewed, and his form straightened to its full height. He uttered one final admonition before starting an incantation whose words strayed well beyond my understanding.
“GO!” Quin’s quiet voice now boomed and echoed through the chamber.
As I left the circle, órla launched from my shoulder and out the window.
I started back, then turned toward the doorway. As I reached the opening, I ran headlong into a tall woman in black riding leathers and a black cloak. Lustrous black hair trailed down her back, and the golden-threaded Phoenix on her chest glittered, though no sun shone where she stood. She sneered at me, then swatted me aside with a silver staff.
I lay stunned against the wall.
“Velius, it is so good to see you again. I was but a child when last we met.” The woman spoke in pleasant tones, as if she had just returned home from a long holiday. She raised a palm, and fire bloomed, forming a head-sized ball. It danced and crackled as if begging for release. She stepped to the edge of the circle.
To my ears, Quin’s voice sounded strangely distant, yet also roared in the small chamber. “Who are you, witch? Why do you threaten this sacred place?”
The woman laughed . “Oh, Velius, really? It has only been a thousand years. How could you forget me so quickly?”
I pressed myself against the wall and crawled toward the door.
“Irina?” Quin staggered back, his eyes wide. “How . . .”
She cackled again. “I vowed to repay each of you for your . . . kindness . As I recall from your lessons, Mages keep their promises.”
Without warning, she threw her arm forward and down, slamming the flaming ball into the circle at Quin’s feet. At the same time, her Telepathic Gift screamed in discordant notes that somehow made it into my mind. I was sure they reverberated in Quin’s head. “ You stole my parents, my friends, and my life from me. Now I will take everything from you!”
The tirade seemed to disrupt the normally unflappable Arch Mage.
His quicksilver shell evaporated.
Irina stepped forward and ripped the connection to the river of magic from his grasp. It roared up through the tower and flooded into her. The bloody gems of her crown glowed like seven gory suns, and the walls of the tower shook.
With her right hand, Irina gathered liquid flame and thrust it back into the tower’s center. It raced over Quin, devouring his body with ravenous hunger. What magic remained within the Arch Mage swelled, and in one last act of defiance, exploded outward, knocking Irina off her feet.
The force of the blast and quaking of the tower threw me through the doorway. I tumbled feet over head down the winding stairs, gaining my footing midway down and staggered the rest of the way until I fled the building.
I gaped at the horrific scene before me.
Kingdom soldiers raced from building to building, herding Mages in their cerulean robes like cattle. I ached at the look of resignation in their eyes as they gathered.
Hundreds of bodies lay broken and bloody, scattered across the grounds.
“Declan, run! You have to get away from the tower!” órla screamed.
I hobbled as quickly as my aching, wounded legs allowed.
The groaning and grinding of stones dogged my every step.
Fist-sized rocks and razor-sharp shards rained down, forcing me to use the last of my magical reserve to shield my head.
My heart felt each stone that battered my shield.
I made it to the courtyard between the Mages’ Guild Hall and Academy before my strength gave out.
I fell.
All I could do was lift my head and watch as massive fissures formed in the Mages’ tower. Light, fire, and raging power flooded through each crack as magic strained against its chains.
I looked around at the bodies, the blood-slick stones of the walkways, the death-masks now worn by men I’d called brother or uncle. Anger and grief warred within, despite my body’s refusal to rise.
I lay helpless.
I lay hopeless.
I wept.
And then my soul found peace.
A glorious, painless moment of tranquility that descended from . . . I didn’t know where.
My eyes fixed on soaring wings high above the city.
órla circled once, then an explosion of magnificent Light spread across the sky, as if magic itself had burst apart in some world-ending blast. Blue, white, and silver light shot from the owl in massive waves until the sun and clouds cowered behind her brilliance.
I blinked a few times to clear my vision. When I could see again, I could scarcely believe what my eyes witnessed.
Where órla flew only heartbeats before, a massive Phoenix soared across the sky. Its wings and tail dripped blue flame and spread so wide they blocked out the sky.
Its cry . . .
Dear Spirits.
The cry of the Phoenix stilled my heart.
Even the Kingdom soldiers froze in their frenzy and gaped at the sky.
órla’s voice was the raging of a river, the fury of a storm.
“BOND-MATE, ATTEND! Now you see me for the first time. And I see you. I always have.”
I shuddered as a wave of raw power streaked through my body.
As the world stopped to witness the rebirth of the Phoenix, a thunderous crack , as though the world itself was torn asunder, exploded from the peak of the tower. The roof burst apart, sending stone in every direction, as Irina’s volcanic flame streaked high into the air. The walls of the summoning chamber fell away, and she stood alone in the open air, high above the vanquished city.
When her head snapped to the Phoenix, and she let out an angry, otherworldly cry, men below fell to their knees and covered their ears.
Turning from her ancient foe toward the city, fire burst from her palms.
Buildings and homes shattered apart like toys.
Men in blue and green screamed as liquid fire clawed, grasped, and consumed everything in its path.
Her anger burned for leagues, and once-proud Saltstone withered as a dying vine before her fury.
“Stop her, órla. Please.” My plea was a whisper.
The Phoenix’s head snapped toward the tower’s perch, her sharp beak pointing toward her prey. Powerful wings propelled her beyond the speed of any living being as she streaked toward her goal.
Still distracted by wanton rage, Irina’s head was turned away when a talon thrust forward.
At the last moment, Irina threw herself to the stones of the circle.
A massive clap echoed as órla’s talons snapped closed.
Irina had escaped her grasp. She rose to her feet and screamed curses toward the sky, daring the Phoenix to return and fight.
órla ignored her cries.
Through órla’s eyes, I watched as Irina ducked in time to save her wretched life, but the jeweled crown was hooked on a sharp claw and rose as the Phoenix ascended once more.
The glint of sunlight against gold widened Irina’s eyes. She clawed her head with both hands and roared at the sky as understanding flooded through her.
A tidal wave of uncontrolled power and emotion blasted outward as she drew every drop of magic the river below would offer. The tower strained and groaned, but she pulled more. Soldiers and Mages, once transfixed by the spectacle, fell to the ground or turned away as the tower became a beacon of writhing heat and light.
The ancient, mystical circle maintained by a thousand years of Mages cracked, and the last restraining hold on the river’s rage gave way. A blinding pillar of flame burst from the tower’s peak and hurtled through the sky, slamming directly into órla’s golden breast.
The firmament exploded in dazzling waves that could be seen a hundred leagues away.
“ORLA!” I screamed as lancing pain seared my soul where órla lived within.
No longer bound by crown or circle, Irina’s spirit fled Isabel’s body. The ancient queen’s ethereal form hesitated a moment, a mocking smile across her face, before soaring into the sky toward the mountains.
Her Vessel, now at the mercy of magic’s ire, melted as a candle’s wax beneath a flame.
I heard the scream a split second before the explosion.
The top half of the tower shattered and flew.
Men screamed and panicked and ran.
The tower’s base melted at the magical river’s touch, and silvery lava clawed hungrily at the ground around it.
I squinted toward the sky.
The Phoenix no longer soared above.
I couldn't sense órla.
Her magic was a whisper.
Her presence a feather’s caress.
“órla, are you there? órla, answer me. Please . . . say something!” I screamed to the sky, “óRLA!”
She did not reply.
Spirits, please, save her. Please.
Stones continued to fall.
My magic waned.
Desolate and spent, I somehow found a last reserve and shielded myself from a falling stone. It bounded from my shield and crushed a soldier some paces away. I stood on stubborn legs and hobbled away.
When my legs could carry me no further, I fell to the ground at the bank of the river that ran from the Silver Mountains through the city’s center. I splashed my face, hoping the icy water would grant me some measure of clarity and strength, then lost myself for a moment watching the trickling, even as the world fell around me.
Memories flooded my mind.
My mother’s smile.
Swirling life under the crystalline floor of the Well’s chamber.
My mother’s hand on my shoulder as we stared across the island from her cavern home.
Her cavern home?
Then it all returned.
My skin pimpled as I remembered the swell of the ocean waves and salty tang of the island air.
The path up the mountain.
The ancient Keeper with his insidious trials.
I remembered my mother and her stern gaze when I didn’t give my best.
órla had given me back my memories.
So many memories . . . years of memories I hadn’t known were gone.
I remembered the little owl as a juvenile, all fuzz and fluff. Tears stung my eyes as I watched her bound onto my chest that first time in the forest.
My heart rose as she cocked her head.
It fell again as my waking mind knew she was lost.
I couldn’t accept it.
I couldn’t lose her.
I stretched my senses and found the pulse of her Light.
“órla! Where are you? I still feel you,” I whispered.
When she spoke in my mind, her voice was distant, weak. “I was struck with pure magic from the vein. I cannot heal this wound outside of the Well. I killed as many Kingdom troops in the city as I could, but they sent thousands after the fleeing people of Saltstone. I have only moments before the Well calls me home, but I will try to save your people before I go.”
“I’m coming. Wait for me. Take me with you,” I begged.
“Declan, where I go, you cannot follow.”
“órla, don’t leave me. Oh, Spirits, please . . .”
“I knew this day would come, when greater needs would call me from your side. This is the way of the Phoenix, to Bond in life and be freed in death.” Her voice was lyrical now, light and breathless, what I imagined her Spirit might sound like. “Know that I love you and go only because I must.”
“órla! No!”
“While you still live, we may be together again.”
Horror tore at my soul, and I screamed aloud, “órla, what are you talking about? I need you! I’ve lost everything . You can’t leave me now!”
“If I remain, your people will die.” She paused. “I leave you one last gift, Bond-Mate. Cherish your memories but guard them well. My trust is well placed in your hands . . . as is my heart.”
“órla!” I screamed as I scanned the sky for any sign of her.
“órla, wait!”
Silence.
“óRLA!”
Still nothing.
I gathered my strength and staggered across the bridge toward the eastern side of town. On weary legs, I shuffled more than ran until I reached the eastern gate.
No guards stood watch.
No soldiers barred entry or exit.
I leaned against the open gate and stared into the distance. A blue flame streaked across the sky leagues away.
I slumped against the wood of the gate and watched, transfixed, as the flame soared ever eastward.
Tears filled my eyes.
My head fell into my hands.
And then it happened.
I looked up to see órla circle high in the distance, then dive toward the ground. She was too far away for me to see when she struck.
A great thunderous pulse of magic, the explosion of a sun, exploded out from where the blue streak fell.
A mighty plume of iridescent flame filled land and sky.
Shock waves of air and magic roared across the land.
The world shuddered, the wall shook, barricades fell, and wounded buildings collapsed.
I watched as the distant glow across the horizon began to fade.
“órla?”
Deep within, my soul shuddered with the opening of a void.
“órla! Spirits, say something. Please.”
Emptiness threatened to overwhelm me.
I fell to my knees.
Desperate, I dove within myself and gripped my Light as if clutching a rope while tumbling from a cliff. It was as bright and strong as ever, yet something was absent.
It felt incomplete .
My chest seized.
My Light slipped from my grasp.
Realization assaulted my mind.
I gripped my Light once more, pouring my will and heart into its chasm.
The emptiness refused to fill.
The broken link failed to mend.
The Kingdom forces had been obliterated.
I could not explain my certainty, but I knew it to be true.
Still, my heart could not cheer. I dared not revel in victory or in the vanquishing of our foes. I had no strength to praise the hard-won salvation of our people.
For in that moment, órla was gone.