She became the storm. She became the nightmare. She released a primal scream that came from deep within; the place where she tucked away all the anger, all the sorrow, guilt, shame, and hatred.

The bloodstone ring rattled and sung. At last! At last! It cried with joy.

Marai raised her hands and unleashed.

Chapter 32

Ruenen

It was impossible to miss the tower of blinding white light.

It shot straight up into the sky. A beam of pure lethal power with the crack of a whip, amplified a thousand fold.

Lightning, a blazing scar across the black sky. Clouds flashed and shimmered. The earth shuddered. Vibrations, more powerful than Rayghast’s dark magic, knocked the armies off their feet. Ruenen stumbled, lowering to a knee, as he and everyone else gaped at the left flank of the Nevandian army.

Like a geyser, the column of lightning collapsed and expanded outwards. Snaking strands of lightning snapped across the moor in the direction of the enemy, engulfing blue and black soldiers into swirling terror. Long, white fingers reached out, ensnaring all within their path. Bodies disappeared in blinding light and splintered electric bursts.

The screams of torture were unlike anything Ruenen had ever heard.

His heart stopped. His gut clenched.

Marai.

Her power was unreal. Something improbable. Something Ruenen assumed belonged to the gods . . .

The majority of that terrifying magic was focused on Tacorn forces. Several hundred Varanese took one look at that magic, turned, and ran. Ruenen watched their blue and white flags travel farther and farther away. Varana abandoned Tacorn on the battlefield and headed towards the woods, out of the valley.

Ruenen’s palpitating heart nearly burst forth from his rib cage.

Marai could destroy everyone with that kind of power. She could take over the world if she wanted. But she had control . . . the magic didn’t touch a single golden-clad soldier, no one on the Nevandian side, no boy or wilted old man.

Nevandia had a chance.

Ruenen stepped forward, breaking ranks with the astounded Nevandian army. Both armies had frozen, goggling at the power displayed before them. Ruenen helped an injured man, not much older than himself, to his feet. His leg wound was deep, and hand sticky with blood.

“I don’t want to die,” the man moaned, face as pale as death. “My wife . . . my babies . . .”

“You won’t,” stated Ruenen, clinging tightly to his hand. “Not today, my friend. You will see your family again soon.”

Ruenen wouldn’t let this man die. Not one more Nevandian would perish.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” the injured man croaked, face shining with gratitude and tears.

Ruenen called two soldiers to help the man to the back of the line, then continued walking as he gazed up. The flying shadow creature had paused, wings beating in midair, as it, too, stared at Marai’s magic. The other horned beast was gone, vaporized by Marai’s power or brought down by soldiers.

As lightning turned bodies to ash, Ruenen shouted across the moor.

“Rayghast! Let’s end this now!”

I will kill you today. The thought was a sunburst, bright and explosive within him. If Marai could defy the odds, so could he.

Ruenen had been sacrificed for this kingdom, for this war. His mother had sacrificed her newborn son. He’d been ripped right from her arms. He would never know that love. It was a life he’d not been allowed to live. Ruenen had been hunted, tortured, and wrecked for a lie.

But he would no longer be a pawn in anyone else’s game.

Nevandia was his kingdom. He was King. And he would destroy anyone who tried to hurt him and his people.

“Rayghast,” he yelled again, wrenching open his arms wide. A clear and easy target. “Come and get me, you fucking coward!”

Across the moor, a black shape emerged through the lightning and mist.

It wore no armor. Its chest was bare, striped with bright red blood, dirt, and bruises. Battered.

Perhaps the terrestrial battle with Kadiatu actually had weakened the mighty king.

The figure stalked towards Ruenen, each step deliberate, as it bent down and ran its fingers through a pile of ash. The ash of a body that had once stood there. The figure then wiped the ash across his chest in a slow, purposeful move.

Disgust wormed through Ruenen, fueling his anger, emboldening him.

Dark magic had claimed more of the enemy king since Ruenen had previously seen him in the dungeon. His arms were fully black from tip to shoulder, as was his abdomen. Ruenen could see the toxic magic, a necrotic poison, inching upwards.

The king held out his broadsword, continuing his steady stride. Ruenen felt each step reverberate through the earth. Powerful. Commanding. Confident.

Rayghast, King of Tacorn, crossed over the dirt road bisecting Tacorn and Nevandia, and finally met Ruenen on the battlefield.

Chapter 33

Marai

This was power.

This was vengeance.

Magic flowed from her hands in steady, controlled chaos. Lightning scorched everything it touched. It turned rows of soldiers to dust. Battalions and regiments were annihilated. Marai wiped one third of Rayghast’s remaining army off the chess board.

I must kill as many as I can. Marai urged her magic onwards. Nevandia had been utterly shattered, its paltry cavalry and infantry torn apart. Around four hundred men remained of the original three thousand. Although Varana had turned-tail, Tacorn still had the numbers to win.

More, more!

The bloodstone ring shimmered; its curse finally being fulfilled after centuries of waiting. Marai, Meallán’s progeny, had unleashed its revenge. The ring’s magic shuddered through her arms, giving itself over to her cause. The curse, a different, darker kind of magic, strained against her direction. It wanted to take every human soul on the field, including Ruenen.

Human prince, it said into her bones as it surged towards him, target acquired.

Marai bullied the curse’s power away from Ruenen and the Nevandians. She had to stay in control. Marai channeled the magic into her own, using every drop. Her well emptied. The ring grew silent on her finger, all but a cinder of power remained, now nothing more than a jasper stone and a symbol.

Marai’s body shook as she continued tugging at the depleted reservoir within.

You’ve reached the limit.