Fierce joy that he’s alive breaks through my pain for a moment. I hope that, no matter the outcome here, he knows how I feel about him.
The Zhagarn hurl themselves at him and become fodder to his blades. They face me on one side and Kaelen on the other, and I’m not sure who they fear more.
Suddenly, the tides are turning.
Triumph washes through me, and I shove aside the fear of what the goddess will do to me. I chose this, and my friends are alive. The quest can succeed.
Kaelen is fighting his way to me. I start toward him but I’m still burning.
I stumble, realizing I have no idea how to stop the fire.
“Problem?” The harsh cackle shocks me, and I turn to face the druid, who, shockingly, is still alive and now standing, propped against the wall. He must be using magic to counter the flames. He’s still burning, though. Horribly, I can see his flesh melting in the fire.
But he’s … smiling?
Yes. He smiles at me, his screams dying even as he burns. “I’ll make you watch me kill your people, and then my Zhagarn will torture you for a long, long time. Even in death, I will defeat you, and Corvynne, my mistress, will avenge me.”
He raises a burning arm and points at Kaelen.
“No!” I scream and race to put myself between them.
But Kaelen is quicker.
The prince hurls his dagger at the druid so fast it’s a blur, and the blade strikes home in Darnen’s throat, cutting off any curse he planned to throw.
And then, finally, Darnen falls dead to the floor and burns until nothing but ash remains.
The rest of the Zhagarn are all dead or fleeing. Kaelen starts toward me, but I turn away from him.
I look at my friend’s body, lying so still in an ever-widening pool of blood, and my thoughts scatter.
I need to …
The amulet suddenly flares with a beam of light that shoots acrossthe room and pierces the sphere.
The key.
I need to retrieve the key.
Even though it will probably kill me, after I profaned the amulet.
I pivot to the key, which pulls at me with almost magnetic force.
The sphere fades, the light still piercing it, until finally it vanishes, and the ornate golden key clinks down onto the plinth. Just as I extend a hand toward it, I hear shouts, and another group of Zhagarn barrels into the room from the staircase.
Weapons drawn.
All of them snarl their hate and start toward Kaelen and me, shouting threats and curses.
But I’m still surrounded by flames, so they swarm Kaelen at first, and then one of them throws his dagger at me. It misses, but the next one doesn’t. I cry out, trying to twist enough to pull the blade out of my back.
Kaelen roars his fury, and shockingly, impossibly, the very air in the room shimmers with magic.
Not the druid’s magic—he’s dead.
Not the amulet’s magic—I’m still surrounded by flames.
No, this must be primal Valourian magic, because the mists of it glimmer with shades of purple.
