“Mammon’s sons have been keeping secrets of their own.”
The Book of the Dead hadn’t been destroyed as they’d assured the Council…either that or the heir to the book had somehow retained its magic.
“Belpheg,” a voice called out from behind him.
He turned to see a wild-eyed Mammon rushing down the stairs of the castle. “He’s gone!”
Belpheg’s heart seized. He rubbed the tender spot until the fierce staccato of his heartbeat resumed once more. “What?”
Mammon came to a frantic stop in front of him. “The child, he’s gone. Missing.”
“Missing?” Clenching his teeth, Belpheg counted to three. “How is that possible? He can’t even crawl.”
“I don’t know.” Mammon’s gaze held a hint of panic, as if he feared he’d be shot for being the messenger. As tempting as that seemed, Belpheg still had use for the man.
Turning back toward his makeshift battlefield, Belpheg observed the zombies once more. Even dismembered and scattered, with the heads buried in the earth, the parts still worked to reassemble themselves. Bones shifted and wiggled along the ground in an effort to find their match.
The zombies outside the barrier tore at the invisible force field, mindlessly seeking to accomplish their goal. Energy practically seeped from their bodies, crackling the air around them.
Pure, unbridled energy.
“What are we going to do?” Mammon asked, his voice hoarse. “I don’t have all my powers yet.”
No, and that was a true concern, especially since the currents pulsating from the barrier told him it wasn’t going to last this time. The moon elf on the other side must be working to bring it down again, and he was doing a damn good job of it. Belpheg had minutes, half an hour at most, before the barrier fell. He didn’t have enough power left to keep it up. Not without his centering spell.
“I think we’re going to have to improvise,” he said.
“Improvise?” Mammon shifted in his spot, shooting a fearful look toward the mindless creatures on the other side of the barrier. “How?”
The Detainors and the heir to the zombies thought they were gaining ground by using zombies as an attack mechanism. But maybe they were inadvertently helping him instead.
Before he’d been informed that the book had been destroyed, Belpheg had sought to retrieve it and use the energy created by the resurrected beings to fuel his own body. Perhaps he could use the zombies to lend Mammon the additional strength he’d need in order to form the circle.
It was risky. He couldn’t deny that. But the Detainors were out of his grasp now, and attempting to capture them would be even riskier without the lure of his miniature bargaining chip.
No, better to use the corpses to fuel Mammon, form the circle, and rid himself of Mammon’s pesky sons once and for all. They’d turned out to be far more trouble than they were worth.
“Get the remainder of the twelve and form the circle out on the lawn,” Belpheg barked before turning and starting up the stairs.
“But what about the rest of my powers?” Mammon yelled at his back. “Where are you going?”
“To prepare for the centering ritual,” he called back.
He was going to need his scrolls for this. They would guide him, point him in the right direction. They always had.
He’d come too far to give up now.
…
Lina and the rest of the group gathered around the clearing hidden deep within the dense forest. They’d debated splitting up before attacking the castle since they didn’t know the extent of the dark fae’s powers. But ultimately, they’d decided to stick together. They could always split up if need be.
As it turned out, they hadn’t needed to. Yet.
Instead, they’d received an unexpected boon.
Her gaze moved from Tenos, who stood halfway across the clearing with his hands stretched toward the moon while he muttered an incantation, to Brynn, who sat slumped against a tree on the opposite end of the clearing. A precious bundle squirmed in her arms.
Aegin. Thank the gods.
Brynn made cooing noises at him, her teary-eyed smile so wide that Lina’s heart split open just watching the two of them.
Brynn and Aegin’s story might have a happy ending yet.
Watching the two of them, Lina couldn’t help but think of her own daughter. While she would forever grieve Sara’s death, as well as the part she and Thorne played in it, the past had shaped her into who she was now. The best way to honor Sara’s memory would be to continue her efforts to become a better person. To fight for what was right.
I promise to never give up, Sara. To honor your memory, I’ll never give up again.