Moving like the wind over dark water, the queen knelt beside Spark.
“Farewell, mortal girl,” she said, raising her black thorn.
Spark braced herself for the queen’s strike. She’d rather die knowing it was coming.
“STOP!”
Five figures sprang from the air in the middle of the clearing. In the lead was a silver-armored knight, followed by a blue-robed mage girl, a bearded healing priest, a black-clad martial artist, and a mercenary wearing a bronze breastplate.
With a hiss of anger, the Dark Queen brought the thorn down towards Spark’s chest. The knight sprinted forward, deflecting the blow, while the mage and healer hauled Spark and Aran away from the Dark Queen.
Tears of hope blurred Spark’s vision. The rest of the Feyguard had arrived just in time.
“Glad to see you guys,” she said. “Aran’s hurt.”
“On it,” Zeg said, green light pouring from his fingertips to Aran’s wound. “You two get in there. Jennet, your dad needs a hand.”
Jennet helped Spark scramble up, then sent a bolt of power across the clearing, hitting the goblin that was sparring with Mr. Carter.
Metal clanged as Roy and the Black Knight circled one another, Roy’s bronze armor a brilliant foil for the knight’s darkness.
In the center of the clearing, Tam faced off against the queen, dodging her magical attacks but unable to get close enough to land a strike with his sword.
“Flame her,” Jennet said, raising her mage staff.
Spark called up her wall of fire, relieved to see that her spells had recharged, and the two of them sent their dual blasts toward the queen.
Flames engulfed her, and Tam danced back, lifting his shield. The fire reflected from its polished surface, bright orange. The queen laughed, then turned insubstantial as smoke, her black dress swirling about her.
Tam yelled and sliced his sword through that wisp of blackness. His only reward was more laughter, cold as frost.
At the edge of the clearing, a gang of goblins advanced on Zeg and Aran. Spark let out a relieved breath when she saw Aran was sitting up, his eyes open. Jennet’s dad joined them, and he and Zeg began dispatching the redcaps.
A clang of sword hitting armor brought her attention back to Roy’s battle. The Black Knight was pressing Roy hard. She needed some distance, and a clearer sightline to get a good shot. She needed…
Yes. The grav-board was still in her game inventory. Spark summoned it and leaped onto the deck. With a faint whine, the board lifted. She whipped out her bow and nocked an arrow, sighting down it to the knight’s black helm. This time, she was making that shot—especially while Tam and Jennet kept the queen distracted.
Aim. Pull. Release.
It was a flawless shot—until Roy leaped into the arrow’s path.
“Roy, duck!” she yelled, her lungs squeezing with sick fear.
He did, throwing himself flat without a moment’s hesitation. Thank God. The knight looked up, and the arrow flew perfectly through the eye slit.
The knight let out an immense bellow and fell to his knees. He shook, and the clearing shuddered with him, the trees creaking as a rain of silver leaves stormed down. Slowly, he toppled, his black armor dull against the brilliant green mosses.
“Curse you, mortals!” the queen cried, re-materializing in the center of the clearing.#p#分页标题#e#
Her expression terrible with wrath, she passed one hand over her wounded knight, blue power flowing in its wake. He disappeared. With that, the rest of the fey folk fled until only the Dark Queen was left.
“You shall pay for this day,” she said, her voice harder than diamonds.
She narrowed her eyes, sweeping her gaze over the Feyguard, and Spark shivered at the fury in those depths.
Then she was gone, and the humans were alone in the clearing, ankle deep in a silver wash of fallen leaves.
Almost alone. One member of the court remained, his form almost insubstantial among the trees. The edge of night retreated, the stars fading into pearly twilight.
“Thomas!” Jennet cried, dashing to the ghostly figure. “I didn’t know you were in the battle.”
He enfolded her in an embrace, then let go. “I could not aid you, but neither could I fight beside the court. My part is to observe, and to scribe the songs and sagas of what has befallen upon this day. Bitter and sweet as it may be.”
“Hey,” Aran said, stepping forward. “I owe you—”
Thomas held up his hand. “There is no debt between us, BlackWing. I should have spoken far earlier, and bear equal blame for what occurred. My only defense is that I am beginning to forget the fiery passions that move the human heart.”
The sorrow in his voice made Spark swallow in sympathy.
“Please, come back with us,” Jennet said, her voice nearly breaking. “Surely there’s some way.”