Eryx tore his gaze from the horizon and swung back to her, fury contorting his face. “This ismydoing.Myday.”
She shrugged. “At least you lived to see Atlantis rise again.”
His eyes green with magic, green with envy, he growled, “How are you so powerful?”
“How?” Bellanca flung him a vicious smile. Neither of them had actually lifted the island from its ocean basin, but she’d made it possible, not Eryx. He might’ve forced magic back with his ceremony, but the horizon was for her—for the leader she promised to be and the choices she’d made to get here. “I come from a long line of very powerful Magoi. Kings and queens like nothing you’ve ever known. Terrifying rulers. Terrible people. But you want to know whyI’mso powerful?” She laughed, true and harsh. “It’s because I decided to use my magic for something better than making other people miserable. There is suchstrengthin wanting to protect, to help, to do better. I would work a thousand times harder to save someone worthy than to kill an enemy. And I would kill my enemy athousand times harder, and a thousand times more painfully, to save someone worthy. Or to save a whole people. This ismydoing.Myday.” She tipped her head toward the Atlantian-filled square behind her. “And this island ismine!” she shouted so that as many people as possible would hear her. “With the help and blessing of Zeus, Punishment is over, and we’re one with the horizon!”
The crowd cheered again, deafening, Zeus’s name pouring from mouths and charging the air with a swell of gratitude. Their noise covered Eryx’s snarl of outrage. He still held his sword in his fabric-wrapped hand and made a last-ditch effort to kill her by throwing it. It was a clumsy effort, and she sun flared his blade into a line of melted metal before dropping the cage and pushing her white-hot magic over him. He reeled back against the wall, his clothing starting to burn. He gasped. His belt caught fire, and he ripped it off. He tore off his tunic. Writhing in agony, he pleaded, “No! Stop! Please!” His pants disintegrated. His boots charred. His skin bubbled and burned all over.
Bellanca moved forward, keeping the heat just right to cook but not kill. “How many women begged for their lives? Didyoulisten?”
Horror twisted Eryx’s burning features. “I–I surrender. Spare me.” His naked back against the wall, he begged her as she roasted him.
“No. I don’t think I will.” She kept a perfectly even sun flare, watching him disintegrate, her control absolute. This was no rogue spark in her hair, the kind of little eruption that didn’t matter. This was pure heat, intense power, and she’d finally fully mastered it, just like she’d mastered her innate fire years ago. “I’m going to melt you, piece by piece. I’ll leave your eyeballs alone so you can see yourself burn. And I’ll leave your mouth, so you can scream.”
Eryx’s terrified eyes widened. His hair burned. He howled when his skin finally gave way to bone. Pain warped his features. He wailed, folding in on himself, but there was no escaping her wrath or her magic. His body barely resembled a body anymore, charred and oozing. He collapsed, just enough of him left to hear her, to understand.
“You didn’t think it would end this way, did you?” Magic flowed out of her, so easy and powerful, even without the amulet. “You didn’t even see us coming. Where’s your water magic now, Eryx? All dried up? Can’t get it out? Too bad you’re a murdering son of a Cyclops, or I might’ve taught you.”
“You’re a murderer!” he somehow spat back.
“I’m a conqueror.” And enough hate pumped through her heart that she could momentarily set aside the Atlantian soldiers she’d had to kill to get to this very place, right now. Hate for how Eryx had treated Cleito, for what he’d done to Carver, and for all the island women he’d killed and the families he’d thrown into mourning. “Atlantis is free of Punishment. Now, it’ll be free of you.” The crowd spurred her on, shouting for the death of Eryx Atlantis.
With a final push of magic, she combined her sun flare and her fire and ended a king unworthy of this island. His scream scarcely lasted, cut off as skin and muscle burned away and his liquifying body ran like thick red poison down his bones. He lost all form, all sound, all humanity—if he’d ever had any—and Bellanca had barely skimmed the top off her power. She could melt him a thousand times over.
With grim satisfaction, she looked at the oozing heap in the same spot where Eryx had murdered thousands of women over his reign and produced an incineration-hot pulse of magic, charring what remained, including the little obol nestled among his bones. Bloody sludge dried to ash. The thin, parched flakesswirled on her searing air currents, and she blew them over the high wall with a sun-flare blast.
The next high tide would wash them off the stone walkway below, erasing them like they’d never even been.
Nowshe was done with Eryx.
Chapter 34
Carver turned in time to watch Eryx suffer through his own annihilation. Bel was blazing fury and fiery vengeance, but she was so much more. He already loved her more than anything, but he loved her even more as he watched her mercilessly punish a man who’d lived for cruelty and power.
Magic poured from her, almost blinding and so hot he felt it roll over him halfway across the square. Eryx disintegrated to dust, and she blew him over the harbor wall. A primal smile lifted Carver’s mouth. She’d always been an-eye-for-an-eye type of woman, and he hoped everyone who’d ever lost someone at Eryx’s hands felt her retribution thump deep in their hearts right now.
Still watching her—unable to tear his stare away—Carver raised his sword and yelled, “Queen Bellanca Atlantis!” He punched his sword high into the air. “Queen Bellanca Atlantis!” This time the crowd joined him, picking up the cheer.
Bel turned. Locking eyes with him, she pointed a flame-licked hand. “King Carver Atlantis!” Carver’s breath caught, his heart expanding fiercely. With three little words, she gave him an equal role, maybe not in this victory, but in their future. And now, Atlantians cheered for them both.
Grinning, he walked back toward the altar, toward their friends, toward a new life for them all. He already saw roles for many of their friends and allies—if they wanted them. Dex,the royal healer. Silas, captain of the royal guard. Pav, keeper of the peace in Atlantis. They’d have to send out soldiers to the west and southwest of the island to spread the news to the less populated farming areas. Magoi could also be springing into existence there, confused and scared.
They reached the altar together, and he gripped Bel’s fiery hand. As one, they held their arms aloft, and the crowd went wild.
“This is our home,” she said in awe. “Our kingdom.”
“These are our people.” He looked at her. “You took care of them well.”
She squeezed his fingers. “So did you.” There was no mistaking the pride in her eyes. It filled his soul.
Carver lowered his head and kissed her. Their people should know they werethatkind of king and queen.
Tremendous cheering erupted, and it was godsdamned satisfying after everything they’d been through. Reluctantly, he ended the kiss and looked around, his eyes skating over the blood-scorched marble.
He nodded toward the stain that had been the King of Atlantis. “Well done.”
“He deserved it. I just wish I could do the same to Hera.” Her gaze shifted to the goddess’s deserted temple with its broken column and shattered stairs.
