The Royal Wizard (34 page)

The sorcerer laughed at the look on the king’s face. “Still you protect her?”

Thoughts raced through the young king’s mind, so many and so fast that Loki didn’t bother trying to make sense of them. Memories he couldn’t recall itched in his mind, but with each word the sorcerer spoke, the wall around them chipped and cracked a little more.

“You try to hide your love, and it only makes it so much more obvious. I never had to guess whom to use to force the wizard back from her quest.”

At this, even the wizard tensed, ceasing her struggles to get free of the king. When his hand on her tightened, hers responded in kind, letting him know she was still there, perfectly safe. For the moment.

Yet, even without her magic, Loki could feel through the king how the air changed around them both. Drained or not, power was in Nia’s very blood. She could no more get rid of it than she could live without her heartbeat. The king shivered, and within him the Trickster did as well. The air pulsed with her wrath, a whirlwind built around her and the king, snatching at his robes. With a slight nudge to his consciousness, Loki made Saeran turn to look over his shoulder.

The wizard was as he had never seen her before, and even the king had to suppress the slightest twinge of fear at the sight. Never before had Lady Nia lost her composure this way. Ever the calm lake in the storm, now she was the storm, her hair wild in the wind, her eyes shining like sapphire stars.

The sorcerer grinned, satisfied to have found a weakness. And now he would milk it for all it was worth, to his own peril.

The Trickster sighed, and left the turmoil of the king’s mind to watch the battle with his own eyes.

“Nia,” King Saeran said softly.

The wizard didn’t look at him, but spoke with a voice not her own. “You may use illusions, but do not use them on him directly.”

Without further question, the king nodded, and a moment later stepped out from an illusion of himself and took up a place in the shadows opposite Loki. He pulled out his pendant, rubbing the surface to draw strength from it as he worked his spells.

“I lose my patience, woman,” the sorcerer said, beckoning. “Come and give me what I want. Or I may just decide to play by myself for a while.” One of the noblewomen pushed back from the table, toppling her chair. Clumsy as a puppet on strings, she came around toward the sorcerer, her eyes wild, tears streaming down her face, and her determined Other guardian holding her hand. Her efforts to scream came to naught.

The king’s illusion leaned back, as though to say something to the wizard and then sat down to watch.

The sorcerer smiled again. “Have you obtained permission to die?”

Lady Nia stepped through the table, as if it was no more than mist, the wolf skin at her back bristling. “Before this night is through,” she said without emotion, “You will know suffering like no other.”

The noble woman stopped in her approach, quivering with silent sobs.

Eyes blazing with madness, the sorcerer’s smile finally died, his illusion wavering to reveal just a glimpse of what lay beneath. “You do not know the meaning of suffering,” he snarled and the noblewoman fell to the floor in a faint.

In his Shadow, Loki’s smile turned dark. “Let the games begin.”     

CHAPTER 37

Nia felt power gathering within her, fueled by her emotions. She was livid, intent on the sorcerer’s death as she’d never been on anything before. She couldn’t keep the magic at bay, and at the moment she didn’t want to. It gave her strength enough to advance on the sorcerer and make her stand.

Jasper’s eyes shone black as the crystal he wore. He watched her approach, his anticipation rising in palpable waves, so focused on her that his glamour began to waver over him. He expected to make short work of her, and Nia would use it against him.

Words whispered over her, a warm breeze of magic settling around her like a cape—Saeran’s magic. She’d told him to use illusions; it hadn’t occurred to her that he would use them on her. The feeling was alien, though not unpleasant. What was he up to? For all that she could feel the spell, sense it taking shape, she couldn’t see its result.

Can’t think about it now.
She curled her hands into fists at her sides, then opened them, sending the tables and those who sat around them sliding across the floor as far as the walls would allow. The tables turned on their sides, spilling food and creating a barrier for the nobles to hide behind, meager though it was against a magical assault. Nia would simply have to keep Jasper occupied fighting her.

Jasper grinned. “That’s it,” he taunted. “Bare those claws.” Power as black as the night pooled in his hand. He grew it into a sloppy sphere and threw it at her with all his might. It shattered on an invisible shield an arm’s length from her. Her charms were holding. “Ah,” he breathed in understanding. “I am glad. I would have been disappointed if you had let me win so easily.”

Another sphere formed, and he launched it, building another straight away. The volley of blows bombarded her shields, weakening them. There was only so much power an inanimate object could absorb. When it wore out, she’d be left defenseless.

Nia didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing any concern on her face. Instead, as the assault continued, she stooped down to run her hand over the smooth stone floor while Saeran’s spell slid over her. So that’s what it did. She looked up to see herself standing there, hands held out against Jasper’s attack. The sorcerer wouldn’t have seen her move at all.

Nia caressed the polished boulders, waking her own magic to life. There was plenty of it all around her, though Jasper didn’t seem to realize it.

She hummed a soft tune and it filled the chamber, deafening her to everything else. The floor thrummed under her hand, eager to do her bidding. Turning her hand palm up, she made a scooping motion and a dozen boulders the size of a man’s torso tore out of the floor to float at eye level all around the sorcerer.

He altered his assault. Each sphere he created split into two, then two again, flying in all directions. Three out of four shots scored their mark, but the stones were unaffected. As a warning, she launched two of them at him as she rose to her feet. The first turned him about with the force of impact. He avoided the other.

Nia stepped out of the illusion of herself, meeting Saeran’s gaze long enough for him to nod in encouragement. The sorcerer wouldn’t see her. Good. She had a score to settle with him.

Jasper recovered from the hit and gathered power into himself, more and more, until his mortal shell was bending double and his back began cracking under the pressure.

Oh, no.
Nia ran forward, pulling more boulders from the floor and raining all of them down on Jasper at the same time with as much force as she could muster.

They never touched him. With a hoarse yell he released all that power at once, an explosion of darkness that shattered her shields and sent her skidding back. What was left of her boulders, dropped harmlessly to the floor.

He was breathing heavily when he faced her again, but though his face was beginning to crack and his eyes were flooded with black, he was still on the offensive.

Nia didn’t understand the word he screamed at her, but she felt its vibrations and knew it was bad.

She dived to the floor, rolling away, and continued to roll as he struck the floor with enough force to dig through it like a plow. Saeran’s illusion was gone. He could see her now and Nia struggled to keep a meager step ahead of his assault. Not fast enough like this. She took a chance when her hands met the floor, pushing with all her strength and not a small amount of magic to launch herself into the air.

She flew up almost to the ceiling, but Jasper’s power followed and pierced the walls too close to Saeran. The attack stopped when he had to catch his breath, just long enough for her to fall back down. She landed on her hands and knees and immediately launched herself at Jasper. This might be the only chance she would get. She wasn’t a trained fighter, but she was of a height with him and physically stronger.

But Jasper recovered faster than she could move. Before she could reach him, another shouted word caught her, sending her flying back against the dais steps. Her back carried the impact and her spine screamed in pain. Tears welled in her eyes as she fought to breathe again, but the effort it required was too great and the pain too much.

She couldn’t move. Her back was broken, rendering her legs useless and her lungs nearly so. The sorcerer cackled, approaching her on shuffling feet, in no hurry now that his opponent was incapacitated. Nia reached for something to help her drag herself away but her hands slipped on rubble. She was stuck unless…no. She couldn’t risk it.

Her body tilted forward as Jasper’s magic caught hold of her, slowly pulling her toward him. The agony of it was unbearable. Nia screamed, the sound cut short as her voice broke on a sob. A female Sidhe appeared at her side, her eyes glowing and enchanting.
There is no other way.

Nia’s head swam. She blinked and the Sidhe was gone. But behind Jasper, the male dire wolf paced back and forth, head canted low, watching her and snarling.
Get up,
he growled.
Get up, or they all die with you.
She looked around the great hall; saw the nobles cowering behind the overturned tables, behind a row of Others who were keeping the destroyed floor from buckling beneath them all. They’d heard her.

Move!
the dire wolf snapped viciously.
Fight!

No other way,
the Others whispered all around. They were watching her, willing her to do something other than lie there and wait for the sorcerer to get her close enough to finish her off. She had to do it.

If she wanted to survive, she had to call her magic back.

She slid another pace closer to Jasper, toward a massive hole in the floor. He was matching her, moving toward her as she was pulled to him, but he wasn’t walking. Instead, his feet hovered off the floor, over thin air where parts of the floor were gone. A waste of power if she’d ever seen one. He was very careless for someone so close to destroying himself.

 “Come on, magicker,” he said, his voice distorted by many others. “Get up. There’s only one way to defeat me, and you know it. Get up and fight me. Get up!”

There was flicker of movement behind him, and then a flash of metal stabbing through his heart. Nia heard the sorcerer groan, a sound not of pain but annoyance. Black magic poured out of the wound instead of blood; she could feel it. It was heavy and sought the floor rather than disperse into the air the way natural magic should.

He clucked his tongue, turning from her to face whoever was behind him. Only one person was still capable of moving on his own, the only one Jasper hadn’t enchanted. He grasped Saeran by his shirt and bodily tossed him into the throne. His impact shattered it and the floor beneath it, and Saeran didn’t get up again.

Nia screamed louder than she ever had in her life. The sound hurt her ears; made the humans and Others double over in pain and, were he not floating, the sorcerer would have dropped to his knees at the force of it. The very air shuddered. Like an out of control river, her magic came rushing back into her, all that she’d drained herself of and more, from the great hall and Nico’s library; taking his power as well, and Saeran’s and some from the Others. It filled her near bursting, forcefully mending injuries and lifting her to her feet, though she’d not commanded it. Her scream ended as she drew a breath.

Without thought or intent, she started moving, step after step, stalking the sorcerer as he backed away from her, wide eyed. She was in a whirlwind that didn’t exist, her hair and cloak whipping around her. She was glowing like a lantern as her power leaked out, illuminating the great hall better than the torches she’d extinguished. Nia felt herself on the brink of losing control. If she let go now, she could destroy not only herself and the sorcerer but everything and everyone within miles.

Two of the tables flew at the sorcerer without her conscious command. No more warnings. They flattened him between them, as far as his power would allow. It was still shielding him, though he fueled it now with his own life. It wouldn’t last much longer; he had very little physical strength left, depending on magic to sustain him.

The tables shattered as he screamed.

Nia tore out more boulders, hurling them all at once. He had no chance of defending against all of them. Several scored a hit and the sorcerer staggered and fell to his knees, his body broken and his power raging out of control. He gasped big, pained breaths, but still launched another volley of magics at her. She swatted them away without breaking her stride.

By now there was little left of the floor but what pieces there were arranged themselves before her to pave an easy path to her target. The Others were retreating, one by one drawing back from the awful sight of the two of them. The dire wolf was the last to depart, still snarling.

Strange growling words spilled from Jasper’s lips, sinking into the ground, making it recoil. He shot at her everything he had. What little part of her mind was still conscious of strategy discerned a pattern to his attack. He never aimed a fatal blow. This was all a studied lure to catch her magic.

At the last moment Nia stopped herself from touching him, physically or magically. Instead, she called to the banners hanging from the walls. They tore themselves to strips and wove together to form ropes that wound around the sorcerer’s arms and neck. She used those binds to lift him from the floor as she continued her forward press. He hung before her as she dragged him out of the great hall, out of the castle.

The revelers in the courtyard had dispersed. Only the bonfire remained, burning high and bright. Nia didn’t hesitate to send the sorcerer through it. He shouted and screamed; cast burning embers back at her. Nia didn’t waste her defenses on such trifling things. She let them sear her face and hair; the burns healed instantly.