David Wells - Linkershim

“I’m going to capture your wizards one by one and strip them of their magic, bestowing their power upon candidates from within my forces who demonstrate exceptional aptitude and loyalty. Your Wizards Guild will be diminished while mine is increased-yet another path to victory.

“Speaking of which, I just got a report from Hector’s expedition. They’ve reached the swamp. It shouldn’t be long now.”

“That swamp might just eat them alive.”

“Face it, Isabel, you’ve lost … on every front. You’re just prolonging the inevitable. I’ve cultivated so many paths to victory that I can’t help but win. For example, I have a company of my best trackers hunting Trajan. He’s fled to the northern jungles.”

“Good luck tracking him in there,” Isabel said.

“Admittedly a challenge, but well worth the resources I’ve committed.” Phane shook his head incredulously. “Don’t you see, I have a plan to win, many plans, in fact … and you don’t. You’ve never had a chance against me. I set my plans into motion within days of waking from my long sleep. I have vast resources working toward my objectives … whole island kingdoms waging war by my command. You are a prisoner. Your husband is a prisoner. All is lost. Surrender. I will be merciful.”

Isabel couldn’t help but laugh, looking Phane right in the face past her swollen eyelids and bruised cheeks. “You mean like this?”

Lacy and Wren looked down at the table.

“You deserved that and you know it,” Phane said, pointing his finger at her face. “Anyone else who did what you did would be dead or dying very badly right now. A beating was lenient. In fact, you may well suffer additional punishment at my whim.”

“You call that mercy?”

“In your case, yes,” Phane said, standing abruptly. “The three of you will remain on these estate grounds until I return in a few days. We’ll continue this conversation once I’ve mastered Enu’s spell.”

He left them without another word.

“What happens then?” Lacy asked.

“According to Phane’s plan, I’ll kill Wren, then feel so guilty about it that I’ll embrace the netherworld and help Phane kill my husband.”

“That’s insane,” Lacy said.

“I know, but given the circumstances, it’s not entirely implausible,” Isabel said, continuing to explain her situation with Azugorath in as much detail as she could. Lacy listened with intent horror, shaking her head from time to time while Isabel detailed her entanglement with the Wraith Queen.

“So, if this demon gains control, she’ll make you kill Wren,” Lacy said.

“That’s Phane’s plan,” Isabel said. Then she looked at Wren. “That’s why I sent you away earlier than planned. Wizard Enu succeeded in casting his spell, but fortunately, you were out when Azugorath took control of me.”

“So what do we do now?” Lacy asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Isabel said. “Those collars complicate things.”

They spent the better part of the next two days talking, first about Phane and his strategies and his lies, but then about more mundane things, like their childhoods, their friends and family, their hopes for the future.

Despite Isabel’s first impression, she came to like Lacy, but that didn’t change her assessment of her-the princess was in over her head. But then, Isabel had to remind herself how inexperienced she’d been the day she left Glen Morillian with Alexander not so very long ago.

Lacy had come far, especially considering her burden, but she couldn’t hold her own in a fight and that would be a problem. What’s more, Lacy knew it, confessing that she wished she could go back in time and learn how to fight.

Isabel tried to remain upbeat with her two friends but inwardly she was facing a kind of doom marching inexorably toward her with every passing moment. Phane would cast the spell and Azugorath would assert her will.

Wren would die.

Isabel didn’t know if her soul could withstand what would come next.

After the first two days, after they’d said all they had to say and fell silent, the tension began to build. Every passing moment ratcheted up Isabel’s anxiety, fear gripping her in a way she’d never felt before, not during the mana fast, nor while she carried the Goiri bone, not ever.

She was going to kill Wren.

A glimpse of the kind of guilt such a thought evoked was enough to send a thrill of panic coursing through her.

She jumped when the door opened. Phane stood in the doorway, savoring their fear … that was all it took for Isabel to regain control. In a moment, she remembered her training at the fortress island and detached herself emotionally so she could face her enemy with a clear head.

He seemed more smug than usual-not a good sign.

“It’s time,” he said, closing the door loudly, causing all three of them to jump again. “I’ve learned Enu’s spell.”

The moment closed in around Isabel. She was out of options. Wren was forfeit. She summoned her anger, building it quickly before muttering the words she’d remembered by rote to help her mind focus on seeing the results she desired. Light, bright and hot, streaked from her hand and hit Phane’s shield right in front of his chest, dissipating in a scintillating display of color.

“Run!” Isabel shouted.

“Not so fast,” Phane said, touching his slave-master’s ring and dropping both Lacy and Wren to their knees, gasping for air. He released them after watching them struggle for several seconds. They gasped for air, each breaking into a fit of coughing.

“I really like these,” he said. “I’ll have to have the Babachenko send more.”

Isabel started to get up, but he pushed her back into her chair with his magic, holding her in place while he cast a spell. She tried to brace for it, tried to resist, but it came over her like a wave, separating her body from her free will, leaving her totally vulnerable. Azugorath seized the opportunity, flooding into Isabel’s psyche with all of her hate and bile.

“Finally,” the Wraith Queen said, standing triumphantly in full possession of Isabel, looking down on Wren without pity. “Is this the pittance you want killed?”

“Yes,” Phane said.

Lacy staggered to her feet and bolted forward, launching herself headlong into Isabel’s midsection and crashing to the ground on top of her, then she rolled to the side a moment later, struggling to breathe past the slave collar’s constriction.

“Don’t try my patience, Princess. You are not nearly as valuable to me as Isabel is.” He left her writhing on the floor, strangling.

“Please. Kill her quickly,” Phane said.

Azugorath approached Wren. Isabel could hear the words of her light-lance spell begin to form in her mind. She saw her hand raise toward Wren, heard her lips breathe life into the words of the spell, but then Wren did something that surprised everyone … she started singing.

Not the timid, under-her-breath singing that always made Isabel smile, but loud, full-throated, unabashed song shouted to the sky with passion and pure joy. The kind of song that calls forth thunderous applause. Her voice rose and fell, holding every note without rush, as if in that moment, her greatest purpose was to fill the room with music.

Isabel watched through stolen eyes and was in awe.

Wren had chosen her favorite song and was delivering a masterful performance, so much so that Phane and even Azugorath both seemed stunned by it, neither seemingly able to put what they were seeing and hearing into a context that they could comprehend.

Isabel understood perfectly. She reached for the veil shrouding the light and met it with love for Wren, love for her music, love for Alexander, and love for life itself. She didn’t struggle with it, or fight it, or rail against it, or confront the veil in any way. Instead, she simply held all of the love she could muster up to it, and the realm of light responded. At first, just a glimmer shined through, but moments later, life-giving light flooded into her psyche … and then it was gone. Azugorath had pulled back again, choosing to defend the veil blocking Isabel’s connection to the realm of light over maintaining control.