Chaos Broken (32 page)

‘If you choose to wield that sword, then you are my enemy,' I told him. ‘And you leave me no choice but to embrace my true nature.'

Laeonder blinked against the water being flung in his direction. ‘I do not believe in your stupid prophecy and I know you will never embrace chaos magic.'

‘You give me no choice.' I kept my voice level, eye contact direct. I
believed
I was the destined Dreadwitch, about to wield a great power to level anyone against me.

Laeonder hesitated and I knew for that microsecond, he was unsure. By accepting the sword, perhaps he had kicked off the beginning of the prophecy?

But the moment did not last and amusement slid back into his eyes. But I'd already gathered the energy I needed. I whispered the words required to sharpen my spell to a killing point, aimed directly at Laeonder's heart. The power smashed into his chest and he staggered back. I had a single wild moment of hope that I'd succeeded.

The Regulators behind the High Grigori stepped forward, but Laeonder raised a hand, stopping them. He straightened and his other hand came away clean from his chest. ‘An almost convincing act, Lady Blackgoat. Grigori Fowler was quite taken by that dusty old prophecy. I suppose he had you quite convinced you were this mythical Dreadwitch, able to wield great power, if you so chose.'

Swallowing hard, I knew now I was out of options. I'd really believed the summoning spell for the Defiler would work. But it hadn't, and now there was only one course of action left. After all, there was still one sure way to summon the Defiler, because I'd done it before. My spell faltered and I fell heavily to the ground, exhausted.

‘It doesn't matter what I believe,' I said. A wind whipped around us and I felt the power that surrounded Laeonder circle me, pulling tight. ‘What matters is that there's someone else who believes in what I can do.'

Still feeling the connection to the ley-lines, I pulled one of my daggers and sliced deep across my palm. Pain ripped down my arm and blood dripped to the ground. The magic already surging through me sensed the blood and went supernova. Inside a deep core of my mind, that other magic beckoned, with sickly-sweet promises of great power. Of never having to bend my knee to another. Of being worshipped as a god. The blood magic I'd swore I'd never touch.

I waited until my will trembled against this onslaught, until I began to see an image of just how powerful I could become. Of those who would crawl across the ground to me, just for the chance to cower at my feet. Sucking in a deep breath, I slammed the door shut against it. A piercing scream of loss echoed through me and I fell to one knee, dropping my dagger. I wasn't going to lose myself in the swirling void of chaos magic. I just needed the attention my temptation would bring.

Thunder rolled around us and rain splashed in all directions. A flash of light cast the landscape in bright relief and I flung an arm up to protect my eyes. When the light faded, I blinked my vision clear.

‘Lora Blackgoat.' A voice rumbled behind me. Turning, I saw the Defiler standing behind me. A sword of fire flared in his hand, stray raindrops hissing when they touched the blade. He levelled it towards me and the fire blazed with a radiant power.

‘Your time has come.'

The Defiler hadn't changed since I'd seen him last. His face was haggard and he wore ancient knight's armour, filmed in grey dust. Coarse black stitches had sewn his eyelids shut and cursed words marked his forehead.

‘You were warned, Lora Blackgoat,' he announced. ‘You are filled with the abomination of blood magic, cursed with a power greater than any other before you. A power you were warned against. A warning you have chosen to ignore. Now you will die.'

‘Wait.' I held up my bleeding hand. ‘I beg your forgiveness, but I need your help. The citizens of this city need your help.'

The Defiler hesitated. ‘I do not understand.'

‘I tried summoning you the right way.' I dropped my hand. ‘I used the summoning spell in the Alderman grimoire. But you didn't come.'

The Defiler's head tilted to the side. ‘I heard someone try to summon me. Only the words were…confused.'

I winced. ‘Maybe I didn't read it right, the words were kind of hard to make out. But I had to get your attention, by any means necessary.' I nodded at Laeonder. ‘This man uses thaumaturgy magic.'

The Defiler raised his sword, small licks of fire spitting out. ‘This system of magic, while unseemly, does not threaten the very fabric of The Weald. Nothing compares to the destruction you would seek to savage upon this refuge.'

I pressed my hand against my chest and felt the blood soak hot through my shirt. ‘This is my city. I would die for her. This man would destroy all of that. I had no choice but to summon you this way.'

‘Enough of this.' Laeonder made a motion towards the Defiler. Power surged through the air, ruffling my hair as it shot past me and the Defiler's solid body was shoved back an inch, his feet leaving a deep skid in the road.

‘You shouldn't have done that,' I murmured. ‘You're gonna make him mad.'

‘No one can defy me.' Laeonder's narrowed his eyes at the Defiler. I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping the two of them were going to go for it. But the Defiler did nothing and Laeonder turned his attention back to me. ‘And I will have justice done here today.'

I smelled burning and a glance down told me my legs were on fire. With a lingering connected to the ley-lines, I extinguished them with a word, but then my arms were alight with a billowing flame. I smothered them as well, but it was harder this time; my power was wearing thin. Desperation set in, curdling my insides.

‘You were cursed after failing to protect The Weald's citizens,' I told the Defiler, pointing to Laeonder. ‘This man has also committed these crimes. How can you just stand by and allow this city to fall?'

‘It is not my place,' the Defiler said. ‘This is not my battle.'

‘Useless son of a —'

Then the fire was all around me and heat scorched my throat, choking me. But as quickly as it had appeared, the furnace was gone. I fell to the ground, coughing and gasping. My skin was scorching hot and I sucked in clean air in gulping breathes through a raw throat. Struggling to my feet, I saw Roman grappling with Laeonder and realised the nephilim had flown in to save me, breaking the High Grigori's concentration.

Laeonder rolled free of Roman and got to his feet, Kalin's sword in hand. Roman did the same, chest heaving and had only a moment before the four Thesma Regulators fell upon him. He struggled, but with four against one, they soon had Roman on his knees, arms pinned behind his back and a dagger pressed tight against his throat.

‘Do not kill him,' Laeonder commanded. ‘Not yet. He is to be made an example of. I intend to prove his wings are a mark from the Pit, not a sign of the divine.' He nodded his head towards Roman's wings. ‘They will look very nice, framed on my study wall.'

Both Harken and Thesma Regulators began to spill from the compound. High up on the wall, crossbows lined the battlement and the courtyard filled to capacity with those watching me get my backside well and truly kicked. The Defiler just watched, and frustration gripped me. I had been so sure, so convinced the Guardian of The Weald wouldn't be able to refuse to expel or kill Laeonder. After all, he had threatened to end my life, just because he
thought
I would do great harm.

Roman's eyes met mine. ‘Are you alright?'

‘Not dead yet,' I answered, voice strained.

‘Soon to be remedied, ‘ Laeonder said. ‘Rather than burn you, I think I'll let this blade drink from the blood of this wretched city's supposed heroine.'

‘You mean
hero
,' I snarled. Laeonder lunged forward with his sword, but I was ready. Grabbing hold of the last dredge of fading magic, I willed the Defiler's weapon to me. The move took the Defiler by surprise and his sword came easy, smacking into my hand as I dropped low, levelled the fire-blade out.

When Laeonder stabbed Kalin's sword into my side, a freezing cold swept through me and a sour taste flooded my mouth. Triumph flared in Laeonder's eyes, then faded to confusion. He stared down at the burning blade I'd thrust into his chest cavity and the blood pouring from his armour.

‘No,' he whispered.

I pushed the Defiler's sword of fire in further, twisting as I went. Blood spilled from Laeonder's mouth and he slumped to his knees. I withdrew the blade and stepped back, giving a small scream as Kalin's sword came free from my side, pulling the flesh painfully.

‘This isn't over.' Laeonder made a feeble grasp for me.

I placed a boot on his chest and pushed him back. ‘The hell it isn't.'

He sprawled back on the ground, limbs twitching. I took an unsteady breath, my hand gripping the Defiler's sword tight. I looked up at the horde of nephilim in front of me.

‘Who's next?' I shouted. When no one answered, I glared over at the old knight. ‘Why didn't you help me?' I winced as pain roared through me from my wounded side. ‘I summoned you to help me. This man was going to destroy this city. I was trying to stop him. That's why I broke your damned rule about using blood magic. It was the only way to get you here.'

The Defiler gestured towards the sword. ‘Lora Blackgoat. You have passed the test and have been found worthy.'

I blinked. ‘Say what?'

‘The Sword of The Weald has chosen its next defender.'

‘Eh?' I pressed my free hand against the deep wound at my side, slippery blood spilling over my fingers. Then Roman was there, helping me stay upright.

‘My dues are finally paid,' the Defiler whispered. ‘The next Defender of the Weald has been chosen.'

A glimmer of understanding wove through my pained consciousness. ‘Me? No. No.' I tried to drop the flaming sword, but my fingers didn't seem willing to open. ‘I'm not taking your job. Forget it.'

I pulled away from Roman and stumbled towards the Defiler. But the closer I got to him, the fainter his outline became and the brighter the flaming blade grew in my hand.

‘Peace at last,' the Defiler whispered, then his body dissolved with the falling rain.

The sword's brightness dimmed and I blinked down at it, numb. Looking around for Roman to explain things to me, I spied both Thesma and Harken Regulators outside the compound, along with Grigori priests, still behind the walls. All watched with shocked faces.

Roman faced them and raised his hands, wings sweeping up with the movement to their full span. ‘You were all witness to this. We welcome the new Defender of the Weald. A nephilim female. One of us. Sworn to protect The Weald, as we all do.'

Many of the nephilim Regulators, both Thesma and Harken, began to kneel in the mud, bowing their heads. My eyes dropped to the sword in my hand and I groaned.

‘Oh, come
on
.'

‘Tell me you have the rings.'

Crowhurst gave me a panicked look as I stopped running to pat down my corset. We were both horribly hung over, as it had been someone's stupid idea to go out for celebratory drinks the night before his wedding. Of course, that stupid idea was from the best woman, who was also responsible for the rings.

‘I've got them here somewhere,' I murmured, beginning to feel a little worried.

Crowhurst groaned, rubbing his pale face. ‘If you've lost them, Cloete's going to kill me.'

‘They can't be far.' I tried to remember where I'd seen the two gold bands last.

‘Lora!'

We both turned to see Sabine racing down the street, waving her hands. She dodged a cart loaded with chicken cages and rushed around a group of rowdy cloth-capped men on their way to work. She stopped in front of me, panting, her face flushed.

‘You…forgot…' She held out her hand, showing me two rings in her palm.

‘Ahh, yes.' I took them with a grateful look. ‘Thanks for that.'

Crowhurst hopped from one foot to the other. ‘I can't believe you forgot the rings.'

‘I've got them now.' I winked at Sabine. ‘Thanks.'

‘That's what I'm here for,' Sabine grinned.

‘You're still coming, aren't you?' Crowhurst asked her.

‘Of course.' Sabine gave him a shy smile. ‘I'll be there soon.'

‘Don't be late,' I told her, then grabbed Crowhurst's arm and we hurried on towards Avalon Square.

‘Nice girl,' Crowhurst puffed. ‘How's she working out as your new housekeeper?'

‘Really good.' I tucked the rings in a pocket and patted them to reassure myself they were there. ‘It's nice to have someone else in the house.'

‘I thought Roman would have moved in by now,' Crowhurst said casually.

I trotted around a small flock of honking geese in the street. ‘Mind your own business, why don't you?'

‘Please.' Crowhurst snorted. ‘You asked me nearly fifty times last night if I really wanted to go through with today.'

‘Marriage is an important step in life. I was just checking if you were sure.'

‘Of course I'm sure. When you meet the one, you get sure pretty damn fast or you risk losing her.'

‘Huh.' I stopped talking as we entered Avalon Square. The weekend markets were on, sweeping away any signs of the executions that had happened there, the air filled with laughter and smells of spiced meat. Colourful tents overflowed with fruit and vegetables, and colourful flags fluttered from street lamps. We jostled through the crowds, heading towards the church of Kianna. A narrow, unassuming building, it sat beside the massive Harken Clock Tower, across the square from City Hall in all its white-stoned, opulent glory.

We stumbled up the stairs, my chest burning from all the rushing and my stomach roiling from the roast lamb roll I'd eaten in the early hours of the morning in a misguided attempt to sober up. Inside the church, people milled about, feet shuffling against the colourful tiles of the floor. A head priestess waited at the altar and frowned when she spied Crowhurst, gesturing for him to present himself to her,
now
. Crowhurst winced and hurried off.