“Kirsten!” Thomas shouted, throwing himself on her. “I thought we were going to lose you!”
“You really had us worried,” Bo said with a smile, a mix of worry and relief.
Max could see her confusion grow in response to these comments as she rubbed her eyes. “Where am I?” she asked, reaching her hand around her neck and unclasping the necklace.
“No, Kirsten, don’t,” Thomas said.
Max watched helplessly as her brother attempted to catch the necklace as it bounced from the couch onto the floor.
Kirsten yawned again and asked, “Why are you all watching me sleep?” as Thomas scrambled for the necklace on the floor. As the words escaped, Max saw the red streaks from the goblin’s bite extend out in all directions, filling her veins once again.
“The necklace, get it on her now!” he shouted.
In an instant Kirsten was seizing, jaws clenched, and eyes rolling back, just as she’d reacted when the goblin bit her. Thomas fumbled with the clasp as he and the others clambered to get the sapphire against her chest. The dark red venom continued to extend out and down Kirsten’s arm. Thomas wrapped the necklace around his sister as the tracking venom reached her chest. Just as it had done before, the crystal began to glow and the goblin’s poison was driven back away from Kirsten’s heart. She stopped seizing and lay unresponsive on the couch again.
“What the hell!” Thomas shouted. “Why did you take off the necklace?!” he shouted at his sister, tears welling in his eyes.
“That nearly worked,” Britt said in frustration.
“Is there any more potion left?” Max asked.
Britt held up the bottle, “Not enough to have as strong of an effect.”
Max cursed.
“That’s why we saved this?” Bo said picking up the second bottle. “We can use it, but this time make sure she doesn’t remove the necklace.” He handed the potion to Britt.
Opening the bottle, she said, “Here goes, it’s everything we’ve got.”
She put the rim of the bottle to Kirsten’s lips once more, ensuring Kirsten would drink the liquid at a steady rate. When more than half the bottle had gone down, the bright orange glow they’d seen in Max began to show. Britt pulled the bottle away from Kirsten’s lips and corked it, not knowing if Kirsten would thrash like Max had. The orange light erupted from her skin and her shoulder shone bright, the blinding light lasting much longer than it had for Max. When the light faded, Max and the others instantly saw that the red streaks still wrapped Kirsten’s left arm and chest, but the chunk of flesh missing where the goblin had bitten her was healed. Max watched again as Kirsten opened her eyes, waking up for the second time.
Looking at them with wide eyes, she asked, “Why are you all looking at me like that?”
Max felt himself relax for a moment. He noticed that Thomas held the sapphire firmly against her chest.
When she looked down at his arm, he pleaded, “Don’t ever take off this necklace, do you understand? Never take this off again.” She nodded and Thomas flung himself around her letting his emotions take over.
Kirsten reciprocated the hug, “I think you better fill me in on what’s happened.”
Chapter 48
William’s Return
Unable to raise his arm, Ivan instinctively closed his eyes to protect himself against the bright flash. He knew that flash and what it meant. They were about to transport. Feeling every ounce of energy leave his body, Ivan broke off his mental struggle with Merglan and allowed the white light burning through his eyelids to take him. He felt a hand grip him, too tired to open his eyes, Ivan thought, Anders has found a way. We’re leaving now.
The light vanished, followed by a deafening crack that echoed into a hollow space. He slumped on his knees, wavering to keep his body from falling. With his eyes still clamped shut, Ivan inhaled through his nostrils, trying to smell the new surroundings where Anders had taken them. As he sniffed, he found the strength to crack open his eyelids. The light in the space around him was dim, what little there was seeping in through stained-glass windows. No! he thought, realizing where he was. He felt the hand that gripped his arm let go and then smelled the familiar scent of dragon fire on charred stone.
Ivan felt the last of his iron will shatter as he toppled to the stone floor. He lay trembling from the exertion, having given all of his energy to helping Anders and Zahara find an opening. He heard Killdoor’s terrible roar and felt the dragon’s hot breath over his body. His ears screamed from the deafening roar so close to his head as the fierce dragon’s crow ended.
The ringing in his ears blocked out the clicking of heels as they circled around him. Ivan saw Merglan’s boots, but his eyelids felt too heavy to keep his eyes open for long. He blinked slowly, resting his eyes for short intervals. He could see his enemy moving from standing to kneeling in a few choppy blinks. He saw Merglan shake his head. In a blink, Merglan was standing over him again. Then Ivan felt something hard push against his shoulder and he rolled onto his back, now looking up at the high ceiling.
“I didn’t think you had that in you,” Ivan heard Merglan say through his fog.
Ivan tried to move, but his quivering muscles didn’t respond. His verbal response came out as a low groan.
“Careful now,” Merglan said again, this time sounding closer. Merglan’s hand was on his chest. “Don’t overdo it. It’s over, Will. For you. Your little son might’ve escaped me this time, but if you recall, so did you once.” Merglan’s words cut through the fog. Ivan understood that his efforts weren’t for nothing. He had allowed his son the time he needed to escape.
Ivan attempted to summon magic, his last-ditch attempt to take Merglan down once and for all. If he could sneak in one well-placed shot to an artery, Ivan might have enough left in him to take the dark sorcerer out for good. His body seized as he attempted to summon the energy and Ivan knew he was likely going to overexert himself with this last attempt. The energy required to kill Merglan would, in turn, kill him, too, but based on how he felt, he was already dead. Better to die now in taking out the greatest threat to Kartania, than to die in a cell where Merglan was likely to place him.
“Oh, Will,” Ivan heard Merglan say as he struggled to force the magic to come to him. “You can’t possibly think that will work; you’re practically broken.”
Ivan didn’t give in, instead trying harder and feeling the tingling of magic starting to well in his skin. This is it, how I die, how I was always meant to go, he thought.
Unfortunately for you, Merglan said, his voice now penetrating Ivan’s mind. I can’t let you kill yourself, not yet anyway.
Ivan’s eyes snapped open. Just as he was attempting to force his last act of magic, Merglan’s hand covered his face. A red spark shot from his palm and all went pitch black.
When he awoke, Ivan’s head swirled with pain. He tried to move, but his body felt like stone and every muscle burned. Cringing as he attempted to move, Ivan’s head spiked with pain as if Killdoor’s massive claws were crushing his skull. When he mustered the courage and energy to open his eyes, he found his surroundings cloaked in darkness. The searing pain in his head made him dizzy as he stared blankly into the dark. Gagging from the intolerable pain, he rolled to his side. Every muscle in his abdomen cramped and locked in place as he dry-heaved in the billowing bedsheets. As his abdomen continued to tighten, he became aware of the bed he was lying in.
The sheets were soft, much softer than any wool blanket he’d used on the trail. He could feel the ends of feathers poking through the case covering the fluffy pillows as he curled into the fetal position. Gasping for air, he felt the weight of a heavy down comforter on his body.
Wishing the physical and mental pain would end, Ivan wondered angrily, Why am I in such luxury? It didn’t make any sense to him. A moment ago, he was trying to take out Merglan with one final spell, one that would’ve undoubtedly killed him at the same time. Now he lay in the most luxurious bed he’d lain in since he was a young man; since he was a prince in the capital of Southland.
As the cramping subsided, he straightened, once again able to lie still and ease the relentless aching in his mind. Light glowed through a window, somewhat dimmed by thickly woven drapes. He couldn’t see the window without turning his head, but if he looked straight ahead and focused on the outer edges of his peripheral vision, he could see the ambient glow of daylight outlining the curtains. The bed’s frame came into view, its dark wooden footboard arched with two pinnacles rising on either side, the canopy blanketed in dark cloth overhead. With the familiar bedframe, elegant bedding, and location of the window to his right old memories flashed into his mind.
Is this where I think it is? No, it can’t be. But if it is, why? he wondered while gathering the courage and strength to stand. Moving slowly, he moved the bedcovers aside and planted his feet on the stone floor. Balancing with the aid of the stone wall backing the headboard, Ivan shuffled to the window. He recognized the curtains as those his father used to decorate the castle. Ivan felt the thick fabric with his fingers, then drew them back, allowing sunlight to fill the room. Squinting and blinking to clear his watering eyes, Ivan turned and confirmed where he was.
