Sara Larson - Defy

“Do you think to stop me?” Iker began to laugh, a cruel sound that bordered on maniacal. “You — who did nothing but sit and watch while his precious mama was slaughtered?”

“I’m not as helpless as you think.” Damian’s voice sent a chill down my spine. Suddenly, the stones beneath me began to tremble and quake with a horrible, grinding sound. I had to brace myself against the stair above me to keep from being thrown down the rest of the steps.

Finally, it stopped, but I stayed tense, waiting for whatever would come next.

“So, the little prince has been keeping a secret from Iker, has he?” The malicious humor was gone from Iker’s voice. Now he spoke in a cold rage.

And I realized that he hadn’t made the ground move — Damian had.

“I don’t care what tricks you have up your sleeve — you won’t defeat me!” Iker shouted. “Your little pet guard couldn’t do it, either — she was too weak. Do you want to hear how she begged for her life before I disintegrated her into nothing?”

I couldn’t hear Damian’s response over the pounding of my blood. I gripped my sword more tightly. I couldn’t let Iker kill Damian, too. I had to try — one last time.

I thought of everyone I loved who had suffered because of this man, and the king he served. I thought of Damian, of Rylan. Marcel, Papa, and Mama. Jude and Jaerom.

Holding all their faces in my mind, I took a deep breath, and then sprang out from under the remains of Jaerom’s body. I heard Damian’s cry of fear from below me, but I ignored him. I ran as fast as I could toward Iker, whose eyes widened in shock. With every ounce of fury and hatred in me, I jumped, slashing my sword down through the air from above my head toward him. I felt Iker drawing up his shield as he lifted his sword arm to block me. When I landed right in front of him, rather than continuing to bring my sword down at his head, I spun as fast as I could, twisting my arm down and back. With all the strength and speed I possessed, I screamed and swung my sword around at his left side.

When my blade bit through his flesh and bone, embedding itself into his lungs, I almost couldn’t believe it. He took a staggering step backward, taking my blade with him. He stared at me, then down at the sword impaled in his side. Blood bubbled out of his mouth, and he dropped to his knees in front of the door, which still blazed with fire.

I watched Iker collapse, his eyes open and unseeing. My chest heaved and tears ran down my cheeks. Then my own legs buckled and I fell in front of his motionless body.

ALEXA!” I HEARD Damian’s shout moments before he dropped to the ground in front of me, his beautiful blue eyes bright with unshed tears. He gathered me into his arms, and I could feel his body shaking with sobs. Or maybe it was me who was shaking and he was just trying to hold me together. “You did it,” he whispered over and over again as he rocked my broken body.

“Damian, you need to call a cease-fire.” I heard General Tinso’s voice from below us.

“I’ll take care of her. You take care of your kingdom. I think you still have a king to kill.” Rylan’s familiar voice brought fresh tears to my eyes.

Damian reluctantly pulled back, and I was passed into Rylan’s arms. I stared up at his face, sobs tearing me apart. “I’m so sorry,” I tried to say, my voice cracking, the effort hurting my burned throat.

“I know. Shhh … it’s okay. I know,” he said, staring down at me, his warm brown eyes wet with tears.

Then I heard Damian’s shout, and I turned my head painfully to see him standing on the top of the stairs. It seemed like there was something about him that I was forgetting — something important.

“ Halt! ” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “As the crown prince of Antion, I order you to cease your fighting immediately!”

General Tinso stood next to him and also shouted, “Soldiers of Blevon, stand down!”

I glanced out at the crowd and saw Borracio standing back-to-back with Eljin, holding off a whole horde of Antion soldiers. But when the two leaders shouted their orders, they turned with everyone else to look at the stairs. Some in the crowd turned in relief, and some in confusion.

“My people, we have been misled and mistreated long enough!” Damian cried out over the sudden silence. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, even though my burns were excruciating and my vision kept dimming. I fought against the darkness, fought to hear my prince’s words. A few people cheered, and then a few more. “My father, the king, has used our people, perpetrating atrocities, which shame me and our nation. I will stand for it no longer!” he shouted. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I imagined the blue fire as he looked out upon all the people — his people — staring up at him with cautious hope lighting their faces. “I have negotiated peace with Blevon and will call for an immediate cease-fire and end to this pointless war with a nation that desires only amity with our people!”

No one cheered anymore and I glanced out at the crowds in fear, worried that they weren’t going to follow him. That they didn’t want peace.

But then I realized why they weren’t cheering. One by one, they were pressing their right fists to their left shoulders and dropping to one knee, bowing their heads to their prince, until everyone was on their knees, some with tears running down their cheeks.

Damian pressed his fist to his shoulder, and bowed his own head back to them.

At first, I thought the noise behind me was just the sound of the door burning. But something warned me to turn and look.

“No!” I cried, and tried to jump up in time to stop the king as he burst through the now obliterated doorway with his sword overhead.

Damian heard my cry and spun around in time for the king to swing his sword at him. I watched in horror as the blade rushed toward Damian’s throat. He didn’t have time to lift his own sword to deflect it —

And then the king’s sword stopped, as if he’d hit an invisible wall. Or a shield.

Oh yes, Damian had kept yet another secret from me. He, too, was a sorcerer.

He punched the air in front of him and the king went flying back; Hector hit the wall, then fell to the ground. He moaned and tried to get up, but Damian rushed forward and pressed his sword to his father’s throat.

King Hector looked at Damian with hatred burning in his eyes. “You truly are your mother’s son,” he spat.

Damian stood over him, gripping his sword, his chest heaving. I stared at him and saw the conflict on his beautiful face. I remembered him telling me, “He’s still my father.”

“He can’t do it,” I said under my breath.

But then his gaze hardened. “You will never speak of my mother again,” he said, his voice cold.

For the first time, fear crossed King Hector’s face. “Damian … my son … you don’t want to do this. Have mercy on me — I’m your father !”

Damian stared into his father’s face, but I noticed the king reaching down for his boot.

“Damian, watch out!” I cried out, just as King Hector pulled out a knife and moved to stab his son.

Before he could, Damian drove his sword through his father’s heart. “I will show you the same mercy you showed her,” he snarled, his voice low and hoarse.

King Hector’s grip on the knife loosened, and his hands fell limp at his side. He stared up at his son for a moment longer, and then his head dropped to the ground. Damian closed his eyes briefly. I saw a muscle in his jaw tighten, and then he pulled out the blade, which was coated in his father’s blood. Rylan and I were probably the only ones close enough to see the way his hand shook and the look of grief that crossed his face.