Magus Armati’s brow furrowed. She seemed to consider my words as though she recognized some validity in them. Could it possibly be that easy? Could we end this day without bloodshed?
I wouldn’t bet on it, Grandfather said, as if he’d sensed the sudden rising of Magic before anyone else. Like a volcano erupting underground, the terrain shook under my feet. An indescribable power rocketed up from the core of the earth. Light, heat, sound—an incomprehensible maelstrom of sensation and energy burst forth and clamped onto me with jagged teeth. I shrieked and struggled against that terrible power, but the familiar sensation of Thibodaux’s touch filled me, from head to toe, with pain.
The same force that claimed me had taken the Council of Magicians and my friends as well. Writhing and screaming, they crumpled to the ground. Ruelle Thibodaux and his associates strode forward, enshrouded in a peculiar darkness. Baron Fontaine and the other two Magicians from Le Poing Fermé surveyed the chaos of their attack, but Thibodaux had pinned his eyes on me.
He flicked his fingers, and I shot into the air, hovering high above my friends, who thrashed in pain on the ground. A red haze of anguish filled my head.
“You think we weren’t prepared for such eventualities?” he asked. “That we wouldn’t know this moment was coming and prepare accordingly?” He sucked a tooth. “I’m disappointed that your expectations were so low, Magus. The Council sits in its high basilica, and they grow soft and complacent, confident in the supremacy of their power.” He coughed a harsh sound. “You don’t know the meaning of true power. None of you.”
“You can’t know just how right you are.” Jackie appeared beneath my feet, cloaked in a silver glow. His movements were slow as he fought against Thibodaux’s Magic, as though he were encased in enchanted tar. “You’ve certainly underestimated my power. But perhaps you won’t anymore.”
“You would cast aside your loyalties for this girl?” Harsh laughter ripped from Thibodaux’s belly. “She’s weak, an utter disappointment. Where is all that power you promised us? She’s nothing—certainly not a goddess. Today all your hopes for her have proven to be empty.” Ruelle raised a hand and clenched his fist. Pain bit deeper into me, clamping down, piercing my bones. “She isn’t worth betraying your cabal. Forget her, and all shall be forgiven.”
“Do you really want to talk about forgiveness? After what you did to my family?” Anguish filled Jackie’s face. “After what you’ve done to me?” he roared. His silver glow expanded, lashing at Thibodaux.
The older Magician countered, and his associates returned fire.
“Look at the Magician you’ve become after I stripped away the impurities holding you back.” Thibodaux stepped closer, his barricades rippling and stretching under Jackie’s relentless assault. “You could be the greatest power this world’s ever seen. You’d throw it away for her?”
“Without her, none of it means anything.”
An epic battle raged beneath me, Jackie battling for his life and the lives of everyone around us. One young man standing against four powerful Magicians, perhaps the most powerful of all.
I struggled to break through the pain and reach for the lightning, one strike to tilt the scales in Jackie’s favor, but the pain was too binding. Each nerve in my body blazed. It took all my strength and focus to remain conscious.
Grandfather, I can’t... I can’t...
Hold on, my girl. His voice was desperate. Just a little longer, hold on.
Ruelle yelled a sharp word and whipped a bolt of bright-fuchsia light at Jackie. The force struck Jackie’s silver shroud and disintegrated it. Before Jackie could recover, Baron Fontaine struck, throwing a blast that flung Jackie off his feet. He landed with a breathy cry. Thibodaux struck again, battering Jackie’s body.
“Evelyn.” My name was Jackie’s prayer, his plea for help. For mercy. For a share of that love I owed anyone who’d ever believed in me. And despite everything, Jackie had always been faithful. I should have fostered his faith rather than push him away. It was a lesson learned too late.
I’d thought of Jackie as my greatest enemy for so long. Even now I knew he’d only fought for me because he wanted a chance to use me for his own plans and schemes, but that didn’t stop my heart from breaking at the sight of this proud and beautiful young man dying at my feet. Jackie was my foe to defeat. I would have done it with mercy.
Thibodaux had no right to take that from me.
I reached deep inside myself. The pain clamped down, chewing, grinding my bones, but I bore it. I endured it long enough to reach the part of myself that belonged only to the thunder.
And that was when I heard it.
Through my own screams.
Through the roaring winds in my ears.
Through the cries of agony from all the people Thibodaux tortured.
A chant. A hymn. A prayer.
Familiar words I hadn’t heard since the day of my father’s funeral.
From a quartet of voices. No, dozens. No, hundreds. Hundreds of unified voices. Through pain-clouded vision, I spied crowds emerging from the forest around Fallstaff’s borders. They carried lanterns, thuribles, and censers filled with incense specifically blended to smell like the air during a storm. Together they raised their voices. Together they poured out their belief.
Their prayers were a sacred old song—simple words, easy to remember and pass down through generations:
Divine is the Thunder,
Let her be praised.
Mighty is the Storm,
Let her be praised.
Fierce is the Lightning,
Let her be praised.
Queen of Queens,
We praise you, we praise you.
Oh, Shining Lady,
We give our praise to you.
Their faith filled the dark empty places inside me—places I hadn’t believed could ever be filled again.
Like a vestment, thunder enrobed me, wrapping me in peace and comfort. Lightning crowned my brow.
