Astarte's Wrath (23 page)

Her shoulders go rigid. The beads in her hair clank as her attention is snapped to me. I get more pleasure out of irritating her than I should.

Bringing the scepter to her chest, as if it’s her child, she says, “Seems you, my sister, should not only choose your friendships wiser, but you should also never underestimate
anyone
.”

She’s mocking me. Using my own words against me. “Fine, Candra. Your point is made. Who are you speaking of?”

“The sorcerer is not a completely useless relic like I once thought.”

Fadil. He’s proved us fools. I may not have trusted him, but I surely didn’t think him capable of magics this great—to be able to free an
entire
race of Kythan.

“But,” Candra continues. “He’s still not capable of the
true
old magics. The spell was only a temporary unbinding to release the Narcolym for battle.”

And as if on cue, the doors grind open. My head jerks around as the Narcolym fill the entranceway—so many that most linger on the steps and in the street. They’re here to witness Candra’s performance. To make sure she delivers on her promise to them.

My whole being pulses with fury at seeing the traitorous race. I tamp down my Charge as it curls in snapping ribbons around my fingers.
Almost time
.

“I aim to keep my promises.” Candra holds the scepter above her head. “And I aim to be done with this mortal realm.”

As Candra begins to chant, her lilted words soft and breathy, Octavian creeps toward the back wall. I’m sure he doesn’t want to be near the powerful magics—magics not seen in hundreds of years. It’s amusing to watch one who thinks himself so mighty cower before true power.

If Candra believes she can selectively release the Kythan of their slavery binds, she’s wrong. We’re all linked. What is done to one race is done to the other. It’s how we were designed, and I wonder why Fadil didn’t explain this to her. Maybe he was only intent on seeing the blasphemous Ptolemies and their gods defeated. I’m sure he loathes the fact that he can no longer employ the old magics, envious of Candra for being the one to do what he lost long ago. I wonder if he’s sneering right now, mocking Candra, as he envisions this outcome. It’s as if the sly sorcerer was the mastermind behind this whole affair, and believes he’ll be the one to gain in the end.

But as cunning as Fadil is, he’s not the master of misdirection. Our great, now-departed queen was.

I look at Xarion. Hold his gaze—the stormy emerald eyes I’ve gazed into my whole life—and mouth, “
Be ready
.”

The ink on my neck begins to shift. A burning sensation crawls beneath my skin as the swirls around the mark of the Kythan transform. Beside me, Phoenix hisses through his teeth and slaps a hand over his power source. I nudge him, trying to silently warn him from gaining Candra’s attention.

But when I look back at the Leymak working the old magics, the scepter still raised toward the heavens, she’s lost in the power, her eyes blazing a pure white. She may have ascended from the depths of the Primeval Waters with ancient knowledge trickling from her essence, but she’s not yet lived long enough on this plane to garner common sense. She doesn’t believe any human could wield the old magics. And again, that is only her pride betraying her.

Candra’s arms tremble, the bangles on her wrists clinking. She gasps as power surges through her. “I command it so!”

I can’t prevent the scream that tears from my throat as my neck emblazes with light—a mystic fire wrapping me in white lashing coils. The temple vibrates with the cries of the Narcos suffering the same pain. I reach out and latch on to Phoenix’s hand for comfort, and he grips mine back.

When the pain finally begins to subside, I fall forward on my hands and take deep breaths. I don’t feel any different—not yet—but I know
everything
has changed. My
Ba
is awakening to a new law. It can sense it.

The guardians will never be commanded by another pharaoh of Egypt. The millennia of slavery under the pharaohs have ended—but the Kythan are far from free. Cleopatra ensured that if Candra ever captured her son, if she ever evoked the power of the
was
scepter, the Kythan would be cursed.

The last reigning pharaoh of Egypt did not bow out of this world unavenged.

“This is wrong—something is wrong,” a Narco just feet from me utters. “What have you done, sorceress?”

Candra’s body is drenched with sweat, her thin layers of linen clinging to her heaving chest. The smile on her face falls when she opens her eyes and takes in the surly Narcolym. “I don’t understand—” She breaks off and glances at the amulet in her shaky hands.

Rising onto my feet with some difficulty, I shout, “She’s betrayed us! We’ve been cursed!” The Narcolym mutter foul curses. I spot Octavian slinking closer to the back exit. “We’ve not been freed—she’s enslaved us to all humans!”

A ruckus breaks out as the Narcos shout, argue, shove—and start for Candra.

I savor the loathe look she sends me right before they swarm her, and attack.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“X
arion!”

It’s my voice that rises over the pandemonium as I desperately fight through the fray.

Phoenix, a true warrior, growls and lobs Narcos aside, clearing our path. I flare my Charge, creating a field of crackling blue, sending my fists into any body that gets in my way to Xarion. I continually sweep my eyes, looking for Candra.

She has not been taken down. Not when she can vanish into the aether in a blink. I have to get Xarion out of Octavian’s clutches before she reemerges. Though I doubt she’ll reappear in the midst of enraged Narcos seeking to rip her apart, I can’t chance it.

Octavian’s hands wave frantically above his head. He orders his soldiers to retreat with Xarion through the back door.

With a cry, I barrel into the massive Narco blocking the dais. My body ricochets off his brick wall of a chest, and I stumble backward. He raises his muscled arms toward me, and Phoenix leaps onto the Narco’s back. I rush past just as the Narco hurls Phoenix over his shoulder.

I drop low and crawl onto the dais, then sprint for the back temple door. It’s closing, and the Romans will block it off if I don’t make it. Always faster, Phoenix rushes past me and wedges himself in the crack of darkness before the door slams shut.

“Go!” he shouts.

I duck under his arms and pump my legs, my sandaled feet slapping the hard stone. The retreating Romans aren’t far ahead. Phoenix’s footfalls sound close behind.

My vision adjusts quickly to the dark corridor. Low-burning torches light the expanse, revealing our foes and my pharaoh. I call forth Charge, chasing the darkness farther away, and send a bolt down the stretch. It hits its mark—Octavian’s shoulder—and he spills to the ground.

The soldiers raise their spathas, but when they see my fierce snarl, my canines bared and blue eyes ablaze, they retreat. A wave of relief washes over me. I only want to get Xarion away from here. I’m sick of fighting—sick of death. I want to live a life with him.

Politics be damned.

Xarion reaches his shackled arms out to me and I run into them. “Oh gods. Oh gods.” Prayers tumble from my lips as I enclose my arms around him, breathe in his scent. Revel in the feel of his strong embrace.

His hands smooth my hair, and he presses his lips to my forehead. “I’ll never leave you.”

Tears well in my eyes, and I blink them away.

“Get up, you sack of pig shit.” Phoenix’s enraged voice cuts into our suspended moment, and I crane my head to see him yanking Octavian up by his cape.

“Phoenix,” I say, my breaths labored. “End him quickly. We must go.” The sounds of the riot grow closer. It won’t be long until the Narcos enter the corridor, seeking vengeance on not only Candra, but the general they won a war for only to be deceived.

I look into Xarion eyes and say, “Together. Forever.”

His cheeks dimple as his beautiful lips stretch into a pained smile. “And I’ll always find you.”

My brow furrows, but Phoenix steals my attention with a shout before I can question Xarion’s response.

Xarion and I both turn our heads as Phoenix positions his Flame-engulfed fist to deliver a killing blow to a recoiling Octavian—but a white beam of light drives Phoenix and the Roman apart as it hits Phoenix in the chest. He flies back.

“Phoenix!” I lurch toward his prone body but then halt, torn between helping him and guarding Xarion. My hand stays sealed on Xarion’s arm.

Octavian scrambles to the stone wall, bracing his hands against it to push himself onto his feet.

Panic pouring through my body, I whip around and force Xarion behind me. “Run, Xarion—” My effort is too little as a blow strikes my head. Blinding light blacks out my vision. My legs crumple beneath me and I hit the ground hard.

As I slowly stagger to my hands and knees, my vision clearing, my gaze locks on to my foe standing before me.
Gods
, I’m going to tear her silver eyes from her skull.

Candra sends another beam at me and I roll. It hits the stone near my head. I curse and bound to my feet—and my breath is knocked from my lungs. My chest wracked in a vise. Candra has Xarion before her on his knees, her illuminated hands clutching his shoulders.

Xarion’s eyes plead with me as he struggles to make the slightest movement, his body unresponsive under her power. My mind flashes to the desert, to the moment when Candra stole Xarion into the aether, and it’s even more painful reliving it now.

My hands curl into fists by my thighs. “It’s done, Candra. And it’s not long before the Narcos find you. Run. Go enjoy your life of servitude. Because if you harm him, I won’t stop until I see you dead.”

She no longer wears her mask of superiority. Her features are hard and twisted as she glares at me. “You
knew
the scepter was cursed. I deemed to free our kind, and you chose a human over your own kindred. You think me a rogue. But it is you who are the rogue. You’re a betrayer of your own family, Star.”

I hold my breath and debate my next move. Farther down the corridor, Phoenix stirs, his arms pushing him onto his knees. If I can distract her, maybe—

“Kill him!” Octavian enters my peripheral as he strides toward Candra. He stops a safe distance from her. “Don’t forget who can end your life—Finish it!”

Baring her sharp teeth, Candra sneers at him. Then her eyes snap back to me as the doors of the corridor burst open from both ends. The shouts of infuriated Narcos fill the dank air, and I chance a move during the diversion.

I lunge at Candra.

In a second she’s gone, taking Xarion into the aether. My knees and palms scrape against the coarse stone as I try to slow my fall. Jerking my head around, I search for her black wispy tentacles. They appear farther away from me as Candra and Xarion rematerialize.

Candra glances behind her—a decision to make.

Vanish now and live.

Or die. But punish me.

I emblaze my Charge and jump to my feet, dashing to close the distance between us. My gaze holds Xarion’s.

“Kill him now!” Octavian shouts.

I spot Phoenix racing toward Candra, the mob of Narcos closing in around him. His arms ignite and he sends a ball of Flame careening toward Candra—

Without looking behind her, Candra dodges the Flame. She latches on to Xarion’s head, her hands anchored below his jaw. Her eyes meet mine. “See you in the underworld, sister.”

A Narco seizes her from behind, but before she’s pulled into the mob’s clutches, she smiles.

And snaps Xarion’s neck.

The
crack
sounds through the corridor as his head is twisted around.

The world falls away.

Time all but stops as Xarion wilts, his limbs becoming limp, and he drops to the floor.

The Narcos take Candra down. Her body engulfs in flames.

Amid the chaos, Phoenix succeeds in dragging me away from Xarion, my hands reaching out—my cries burning my lungs.

Chapter Twenty-Three