Seconds Before Sunrise (The Timely Death Trilogy), page 22
“He wouldn’t want us both to die either,” she retorted, turning back to me. “It’s one or the other.”
“Both of us can get out.”
“No, we can’t,” she said, and warmth flooded my veins like a relaxant. “I’ve already bestowed my energy to you,” she explained, and I knew her Light powers were inside of me.
Her form dissipated, and a side of Teresa I had never seen before looked back at me. She was sickly, thinning as if her blood had been drained from her body. She was dying in front of me. “Saving the Dark is worth dying for.” Not life. Not love. Only duty.
I sniffled, rubbing the tears from my face as they ran down my cheek. “I don’t want you to die.”
“For what it’s worth, I’ve always seen you as one of us,” she stuttered, barely able to breathe. “Remember that when you’re fighting.”
I tried to hold onto her as a bright light engulfed me, and a willowing structure appeared in the mist. “Goodbye, Jess,” she said just as I joined the battle.
Eric
The hillside looked like a yin-yang symbol, quavering and swirling together in the ironic imbalance that created it. Blood mixed with my sweat as it trickled down my forehead, and the liquid left the tips of my hair crusted together. My brow was slit, and my right arm was slashed from my shoulder to my elbow. Darthon’s sword had only struck me once, but the injury was numbing my limb. I would’ve been at a disadvantage if I hadn’t gashed his leg at the same time he struck me.
I panted, glancing at the field that once had been covered in snow. It was now pink with diluted blood, and the slaughterhouse waved as if it would take us down at any moment.
“How much longer can you handle me?” Darthon spat as our swords collided again.
“As long as you can stay alive.” I shoved him back, and my muscle tore further. I grit my teeth as he laughed, but he didn’t attack me.
He wiped his face, revealing a slit cheek I hadn’t even realized I had given him. I took advantage of his break and spit out the tangy blood that had collected in my mouth. My lip was cut.
“How’s your leg?” I asked, hoping to deter his confidence.
“Better than your arm.”
I shifted my sword to my left hand. Urte had trained me to be ambidextrous. “You’re the one hesitating now,” I said, even though I was relieved by the break.
“I don’t want this battle to end so quickly.” He smiled, but it crumbled from his face when the slit on his cheek stretched. “I want to enjoy my victory.”
“That’s going to be hard when you’re dead.”
He lunged forward, and we fought, my back pressed against the willow tree. “You won’t kill me,” he wheezed, his nose inches from mine. “Not when it’d collapse the realm on Jess.”
My heart dropped, but my adrenaline rose, and I made a decision. I absorbed my sword, ducking beneath his blade, and his dagger stuck in the bark. He didn’t have time to react. I slammed my hand against his chest, and he soared backwards, skimming across the ice like he was no more than a ragdoll discarded by a malicious child.
My footsteps shook the ground as I trudged toward him, slamming my foot on his wrist. His black eyes flashed as his weapon disappeared, and I brought mine back, placing it next to his throat. “Bring them back,” I ordered, my voice tearing. “Now.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” he croaked. “I’m taking them with me.”
I flicked my wrist, and my blade sliced across his chest. He screamed, and I dug the toe of my boot into his hand. “Want to answer that again?”
He wouldn’t budge as a groan escaped him.
“Bring them back before I kill you.”
“Kill me and win this prophetic battle of yours,” he screamed back. Even he knew I was in control of his end.
“Not without Jessica.”
“Your Jessica is gone,” he spat.
I raised my sword, slamming my foot against his throat as I brought my weapon down for the kill. Inches away, a woman’s scream interrupted my actions before her attack did.
My left side was struck with fire, and I crumbled over, filled with a pain I’d never felt before. It filled my insides as if my organs and muscles were tearing apart. My powers were suffocating, and my sword was gone. When I opened my eyes, a fog of snow exploded into the air, reacting to my collision, and it glittered against the night sky like a hundred new stars. A stifled moan came out of my lungs before it drifted away.
“Darthon,” the woman continued to scream as she fell on her knees at his side. It was Fudicia who attacked me. “Are you okay?”
Darthon stood up, ranting, but his words melted together. All of my senses were blending. I couldn’t speak, feel, or think clearly. Anything was everything. There was no singularity.
I saw Pierce, holding the half-breed against the ground, and then I heard the war. There was a shout, and Pierce’s green eyes glowed through the darkness. But I couldn’t react. I already felt as if I had died.
Darthon’s voice was the first one to bring my focus back. “You’re pathetic,” he said, and I realized we’d switched positions. He was on top of me, and his sword was against my throat, burning my thinning skin. “You’re weak enough to fall from Fudicia’s hand—”
“I thought this war was between you and me,” I used his words against him. “What happened to our war?”
“Our war is over,” he bellowed. “Our war is my victory.”
“It’s Fudicia’s victory,” I retorted, and he faltered, moving his blade away. I took a breath as he stepped back.
“Get up,” he demanded.
I didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. I pushed myself to my feet as quickly as I was able to. Behind my enemy, Fudicia gaped. “You aren’t going to kill him?” she screeched, her white hair spiking around her snarl.
He pushed the woman who just saved his life. “Not with you in the way,” he growled.
“She won’t get in the way again,” a boy said, and I looked over my shoulder to see Pierce, covered in blood that wasn’t his. When my eyes traveled past him, the hill seemed darker than before, blanketed with shades instead of lights. They were losing.
“I thought I got rid of you,” Fudicia glowered, but her voice was shaking.
“Not quite,” Pierce said, and then he was fighting her, directing her backwards with every blow.
Be careful, I spoke to him, but I regretted my lack of concentration instantly.
Darthon’s hand wrapped around my throat, and he pinned me against the tree. It was a simple mistake, but it was big enough to end my life. He was in control again, and no one had intervened but me.
“Looks like the first descendant will also be the first to fall.” His breath was musty as it brushed my face.
I managed to get my sword out, but he was too close. The pressure of heat scorched my gut, and I knew my own blade would slice me open if I didn’t get back.
I leaned away, but he repositioned, and my shoulder blades dug into the willow tree’s bark. Out of all of the places to die, this had to be the most ironic.
It didn’t matter if my people were winning. I couldn’t kill Darthon if it meant Camille and Jessica would die in his realm, and I couldn’t force him to bring them back. I’d die from exhaustion before I would kill him. Even with destiny on my side, I was too weak to win everything I had prepared myself for. But Jessica would be alive.
At least, she would have a chance.
I let go of my sword, and it disappeared before hitting the ground. “Looks like you win,” I said, but Darthon didn’t cut me in half.
He held back, waiting for my people to witness my fall. The sounds of clashing weapons shifted into the cheers of the Light and the cries of the Dark. “Don’t give up, Shoman,” one screeched, and I wondered what my father was shouting. “Fight back.”
But I couldn’t fight anymore. People were dying in my name, and others were murdering in Darthon’s. Until one of us was dead, more would fall. My death would save more people than my life would save. Fighting was pointless − absurd even − and I had already made up my mind. It was my night to die.
Darthon swung his sword backwards, and I stared at his face, knowing he would be the last person I would ever see. I wanted to hear the blade strike me, but the only sound I could hear was my heartbeat, thundering quietly as if it were preparing to fade away. The air shifted as he brought it down, but it wasn’t cold. It was hot, and it was exploding.
I wasn’t standing upright anymore. I couldn’t see the stars or hear the shouts of my people. I only felt the snow beneath my hands. My palms thumped with my blood-filled veins, and I stared at my shaking fingertips. I was alive, but I couldn’t make sense of anything.
“Get up.” Her voice shattered my decision to die, but her presence froze my life.
I couldn’t believe what my mind was telling me, and the silence suggested the crowd couldn’t either. She’d appeared from Darthon’s sword, and she hadn’t hesitated to blast him away from me. He was yards away, struggling to stand, and I was saved by a purple-eyed girl.
“Jessica.” I never thought I would be able to speak again.
“Get up,” she repeated, grabbing my shoulder before she yanked me to my feet. She was beyond alive. She was fighting, and I couldn’t stop her.
Jessica
I spiraled at him, soaring through the air with more power than I recalled having. Even my sword was larger, piercing the sky with a brightness never seen. I handled it like it was an extension of my body and aimed it at Darthon’s chest. He stumbled to the side.
When my feet hit the ground, I was panting, and I didn’t leave my back to face him. I turned around, expecting an attack, but he held his hands up.
“How’d you know that you could get out?” he asked, his voice rushing over me.
“I didn’t,” I said, lifting my hand to mirror his. “Camille did.” A light blasted out of my palm too strongly. It shot my body backwards, and I skidded in the snow. It flew up in a mist, blocking my vision, but I turned around, sensing her.
Fudicia was behind me, and I grabbed her wrist, flipping her body over my head. She slammed into the frozen grass, and I exhaled, finally achieving the revenge I wanted on her since she threw me months ago.
The mist cleared as she leapt out, readying to strike me, but I put my arm up, hoping to block it. She never struck me, and I peered out to see Darthon pulling her back.
“Don’t,” he ordered, and she obeyed, using her hand to wipe the blood off her mouth.
I didn’t like it. I wanted to fight her, if only Eric would fight Darthon, and he wasn’t near us. I had seen his injuries before I had even transported in. He was losing, and I solidified in the last minute. I couldn’t afford to give them any more time. We had to end it − together.
“He already gave up,” Darthon said, and I ignored him, kicking Fudicia as I sliced at his face. The two flung away from each other, and I struck Darthon.
He fell over, and I stood on him, watching as his dislocated jaw popped back in place. Every injury I gave him healed. “You can’t kill me,” he mocked, but I stabbed him anyway.
His body recoiled, and he rolled away, tearing open his abdomen. I could see his insides, but his skin closed before he stood up, perfectly fine. “You’re fighting a useless battle.”
“I may not be able to kill you,” I said, shaking with the warming power Camille gifted me. “But I can bring you pain, and that’s enough for me.”
His slit brow rose. “Revenge for the pain you feel?”
Camille. She was dead, and I would’ve struck him again if his eyes hadn’t shifted behind me. I used my peripherals to see Eric − barely able to hold his form as Shoman together. Pierce was next to him, and behind them was an army of all those who had sworn to fight for us.
“It’s over, Darthon,” Shoman said.
Darthon didn’t agree. “She didn’t tell you, did she?” he asked, his eyes sliding back to me.
Camille’s last order echoed inside of me. The girl had been right. That’s all she had said.
Darthon was focused on me. “If you die, I die,” he said, and my stomach twisted, knowing every shade had heard his words. “Who’s your enemy now?”
Eric
“That’s not true,” Jessica said it like it was factual.
Darthon reeled back as if she had punched him, and I glanced at the shades behind me. They teetered, leaning on their tiptoes in two directions. Some faced Darthon, but more faced Jessica. They would have a better chance at killing her than him, and they would take the opportunity out of desperation.
“It’s true,” he insisted.
She stepped back to stand at my side. She didn’t even bother protecting her back from her kind.
“You wouldn’t have killed Abby then,” she pointed out, remembering my first girlfriend before I did. Her returned memory was stronger than mine, and she had to be right. The Light had thought Abby was the third descendant, and they murdered her. They wouldn’t have done that if it meant Darthon dying.
“We knew she wasn’t you,” Darthon snapped, wild-eyed. “We only wanted them to believe your life was worth protecting. Why do you think we chose a war?” he ranted, rushed and desperate. His people were retreating. “It gave them another reason to protect you.”
The debate was fickle, and the Dark wouldn’t accept it. They were no longer facing her, and Darthon’s eyes slid over my army. His desperation was his greatest weapon, and I saw it before he used it.
“Get out of here,” I shouted back at my people, preventing more of their deaths. “Now.”
Many of them disappeared without hesitation. The ones that stayed were elders − people I had fought as much as I had fought the Light—and they were willing to die. It was too late to stop them.
I grabbed Jessica as he lifted his hand, and snow shot off the ground, soaring into the sky. Bodies followed it, defying gravity, and I relied on my heavy clothes to keep us down. Through the chaos, a light engulfed the man, and it spread over the land, burning any part of me that hadn’t been burned before. At any second, he would burn us all, evaporating our bodies into hell.
“Shoman,” Jessica shouted, grabbing my hand, and I gaped at her unscarred flesh. She wasn’t burning. “You have to kill him.”
But I couldn’t even conjure my sword. I was too weak, and the power would kill me if I used it.
“We can’t,” the man said it as he laid a hand on my shoulder. His blue gaze was the only thing I could see through my watering eyes. “We have to go—”
“We can’t retreat,” Jessica said, filled with horror.
“He retreated once,” my father argued. “It’s our turn.”
“But it’s supposed to happen tonight.”
“If it happens tonight, he won’t be the one dying,” my father said, and I knew it was true. We were burning alive, and we couldn’t get close to him even if we turned to ashes while doing it. But ignoring the battle was impossible.
I was supposed to leave with Darthon dead at my feet. I was supposed to be victorious. I was supposed to save the Dark. There weren’t any instructions for after the battle because he’d be dead. Now, he wouldn’t be. He would be alive, and there wouldn’t be a battle to end the torment he would cause. All because I hesitated for my one weakness.
“The prophecy—” I started, but my father’s hand tightened on my wrist. I could see the bones of his fingers.
“I don’t care about that,” he said. “I care about getting my son back alive.”
Jessica was looking at me, and I grabbed her hand, unsure of every decision I had made. I wanted to tell her to leave me, to escape, but I didn’t get the chance.
“Let’s go,” she agreed with my father, and we were gone.
Eric
I moved my arm up and down, testing Urte’s stitching abilities. My skin was hardened, nearly impossible to work with, but my trainer had managed for the time being. I had volunteered for the threads when I realized they didn’t have enough dissolvable stitches for everyone injured. After all, there weren’t any spells imbedded in my injury, and my shade form would heal within a couple of hours. I could endure the pain until then.
“They look good to me,” my father said, and I glanced over his healing face. Half of his burns were gone.
“They feel great,” I admitted, feeling as if I could return to battle and end it, but it was too late. It was over, and there was no victory.
“I’m surprised,” Urte said, sitting next to me. “I’ve never stitched someone up before.”
“I’m flattered to be your guinea pig,” I joked, and he chuckled.
Luthicer cleared his throat to drown the laughter out, and I stared at the half-breed elder. He was the least injured out of all of us, but he hadn’t spoken since we’d returned. His dark eyes dropped onto his cheeks, and I wondered if it were how lights cried.
Eu hadn’t returned, but no one mentioned him. Even then, I doubted Eu was the reason behind Luthicer’s mourning. He was thinking about Camille, my guard and his prodigy. She was a daughter to him, and she was gone. Jessica could hardly tell us.
“Why don’t you check on Jess?” my father suggested it as if we shared a mind.
I leapt off the table and walked into the hallway. It was bustling with shades healing other shades, and I wondered how many people we actually lost or how we would explain it to the human population. It was a mess, and it wasn’t even resolved. It was a relief to leave the hallway and dip into the room I knew Jessica was hiding out in.
I stopped in the doorway when I saw her. She was human already, completely unharmed, and holding Jonathon’s hand. “You’re both human,” I said, closing the door behind me as I tried to ignore my jealousy. It was irrational. He was her guard.
“Thought it’d be more comfortable,” Jonathon said, but it didn’t make sense. He was injured, and he would feel more pain as a person. For Jess, he clarified, and I walked across the room.
