Rayghast stepped closer, drawing his broadsword into both hands. “Today is the day you finally die, Prince.”
He flung himself at Ruenen, who barely had time to block the blade crashing down upon him. With another mighty swing, Rayghast nearly took off Ruenen’s arm.
The king pummeled him, unleashing a barrage of strikes so vehemently Ruenen didn’t have time to counterattack. Rayghast was stronger; his muscles rippled, flexed, and heaved as he struck again and again, pushing Ruenen to his knees. Dark magic leaked out from his pores in wafting black threads.
Ruenen had no time, no space, no way to move. He curled into a ball and rolled away from Rayghast’s lethal, ending blow. He scrambled to his knees as Rayghast ruthlessly attacked again. The man barely breathed, didn’t hesitate. His black, void-like eyes glinted with a power-obsessed lunacy. Was it the magic keeping Rayghast going like a wild, desperate beast?
No, Ruenen couldn’t blame magic. Rayghast was the better swordsman. He was stronger. Unafraid. He’d been killing on battlefields before Ruenen was born. He, like his army, had trained for this.
His feet turned, upper body twisted, and Ruenen finally swung his sword at Rayghast. Their blades crashed together, the vibrations jarring through his arms and teeth. Ruenen found his rhythm. Blow for blow, block for block, he fought the King of Tacorn.
And then Ruenen missed a step.
Rayghast’s sword slashed through Ruenen’s exposed side.
Searing flames of pain ripped through him. Stinging, burning, aching—a gaping, bloody hole in his side. Ruenen staggered, collapsing to his knee, keeping himself upright by leaning on his sword in the dirt. Blood poured from the wound onto the grass and heather. A mortal blow.
The king towered over Ruenen. His emotionless face brimmed with hunger and victory.
Cold undulated through Ruenen like lapping water. Darkness crept in. Ruenen clutched at the fatal wound in his side. Blood dripped through his fingers.
Rayghast sneered, an ugly, twisted expression, as he pulled back on his sword and aimed for Ruenen’s neck.
“Goodbye, Prince.”
Chapter 35
Marai
Gentle hands stroked her back.
Warmth spread through her dying, cold body. Marai’s vision lightened. Darkness bled away. Muffled voices became more distinct.
“Hold on, Marai. Stay with me.”
But Marai saw the distant shadows of Ruenen and Rayghast. She watched the golden prince fall to his knees. The wicked king now stood ready to end Ruenen’s life. The wound was deep. She didn’t need to be close to know that. Marai had delivered enough death blows to know when a strike hit its mark.
Keshel had seen the wound. He’d warned Marai that this would happen to Ruenen.
It was all over if Rayghast lived. Even without an army, he could destroy Nevandia. Ruenen would die. She would die. Her people, her family. All dead.
But then the golden prince dodged with a tortured yell, and rolled away from the final strike. Ruenen rallied his strength, staggered to his feet. His sword arm shook in relentless effort.
“Stop,” Marai murmured thickly to the hands on her back.
“What? No, Marai, stay still,” said Thora, pouring healing magic into Marai’s wasted body.
“You’re running low,” Marai replied, and reached up to grasp Thora’s hand. “Heal Ruenen.”
“I can’t . . .” Thora’s lip trembled. Tears dripped down her cheeks. Her glossy brown hair was tangled and matted with blood. “I can’t lose anyone else, Marai. Please, let me heal you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Marai said. The lie tasted true and sweet on her tongue. She’d used it all. By all accounts, she should be dead, but Thora had pulled her back from the majestic, soothing light of beyond. A small amount of Thora’s magic tethered Marai to this world. “Save your magic for Ruen. He must live.”
“I want you to live, Marai!”
Too tired to hold on any longer, Marai dropped Thora’s hand and said, “Heal Ruen. Consider that my dying wish.”
Thora swallowed. She bit her scabbed lower lip. Then she stood in one fluid movement and grabbed Raife’s hand.
“Come with me,” she said.
Raife nodded, and ran with Thora towards the final battle.
Their conjoined hands and Ruenen’s defiant stance were the last things Marai saw before her eyelids drifted shut.
Chapter 36
Ruenen
As Ruenen struggled to remain standing, Rayghast reached out a stained hand. Dark magic twirled around his fingers. Ruenen spun, avoiding Rayghast’s outstretched arm, but stumbled into the grass. Searing pain burst through his side. He gasped and wheezed, but he had to stay alive long enough to kill Rayghast.
However, the brutal king showed no weakness. He stomped towards Ruenen, reaching, reaching those blackened fingers out.
Brilliant flames charged towards Rayghast from the left. Sweat droplets formed on Ruenen’s upper lip from the heat. The king barely had time to kneel. His hands pressed into the ground, and a wave of earth leapt up from the spot, blocking the fire before it singed him.
Ruenen peered around the mass of terrain and spotted Raife, flaming arrow raised.
“You killed my brother,” Raife said in a steady, unyielding tone. “You killed Kadiatu and my family.”
