Defy (36 page)

behind me was an inferno of fire now, and there was nowhere else

to hide, nothing else to protect me. Then I noticed Jaerom’s body,

much larger than mine, lying on the step below me.

I jumped down two stairs and, using all my strength, pushed

him up so I could curl into a ball underneath him, using him as

a shield.

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“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed as I pressed into the body of my for-

mer friend, and squeezed my eyes shut. I was lying in a pool of his

blood, the dead weight of his corpse nearly crushing me.

And then Iker threw the dark mass. I couldn’t see it anymore,

but I felt it —
heard
it. It exploded all around me, like the fury of a hundred claps of thunder crashing together all at once. The air

crackled with electricity, and I clenched my muscles, preparing to

die. A horrible, acrid smell filled my nose.

Then it was gone, and I heard Iker give a cry of triumph from

above.

Did he think he’d destroyed me? Jaerom’s body, lying on top

of me, wasn’t nearly as heavy anymore. In fact, I could barely feel

it. What had that black mass done to his corpse? I didn’t dare

move, unsure of what had happened, if Iker would be able to see

me hiding or not.

Desperation burned through me, hot and horrible. I was

trapped and Iker was still free to continue to obliterate the

Blevonese army.

And then I heard something that made my blood turn to ice

in my veins.

“Iker! Stop this insanity right now! You’re letting your own

people die!” Prince Damian’s voice rose above the sounds of battle

below me.

No, no,
no
! What was he doing? It took everything in me to

hold still, to keep from jumping up and rushing to his side, reveal-

ing myself.

“Do
you
think to stop me?” Iker began to laugh, a cruel sound that bordered on maniacal. “You — who did nothing but sit and

watch while his precious mama was slaughtered?”

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“I’m not as helpless as you think.” Damian’s voice sent a chill

down my spine. Suddenly, the stones beneath me began to tremble

and quake with a horrible, grinding sound. I had to brace myself

against the stair above me to keep from being thrown down the

rest of the steps.

Finally, it stopped, but I stayed tense, waiting for whatever

would come next.

“So, the little prince has been keeping a secret from Iker, has

he?” The malicious humor was gone from Iker’s voice. Now he

spoke in a cold rage.

And I realized that he hadn’t made the ground move —

Damian
had.

“I don’t care what tricks you have up your sleeve — you won’t

defeat me!” Iker shouted. “Your little pet guard couldn’t do it,

either — she was too weak. Do you want to hear how she begged

for her life before I disintegrated her into nothing?”

I couldn’t hear Damian’s response over the pounding of my

blood. I gripped my sword more tightly. I couldn’t let Iker kill

Damian, too. I had to try — one last time.

I thought of everyone I loved who had suffered because of this

man, and the king he served. I thought of Damian, of Rylan.

Marcel, Papa, and Mama. Jude and Jaerom.

Holding all their faces in my mind, I took a deep breath, and

then sprang out from under the remains of Jaerom’s body. I heard

Damian’s cry of fear from below me, but I ignored him. I ran as

fast as I could toward Iker, whose eyes widened in shock. With

every ounce of fury and hatred in me, I jumped, slashing my sword

down through the air from above my head toward him. I felt Iker

drawing up his shield as he lifted his sword arm to block me. When

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I landed right in front of him, rather than continuing to bring my

sword down at his head, I spun as fast as I could, twisting my arm

down and back. With all the strength and speed I possessed, I

screamed and swung my sword around at his left side.

When my blade bit through his f lesh and bone, embedding

itself into his lungs, I almost couldn’t believe it. He took a staggering step backward, taking my blade with him. He stared at me,

then down at the sword impaled in his side. Blood bubbled out of

his mouth, and he dropped to his knees in front of the door, which

still blazed with fire.

I watched Iker collapse, his eyes open and unseeing. My chest

heaved and tears ran down my cheeks. Then my own legs buckled

and I fell in front of his motionless body.

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 forty-three 

A
lexa!” i heard Damian’s shout moments before he

dropped to the ground in front of me, his beautiful blue

eyes bright with unshed tears. He gathered me into his arms,

and I could feel his body shaking with sobs. Or maybe it was

me who was shaking and he was just trying to hold me together.

“You did it,” he whispered over and over again as he rocked my

broken body.

“Damian, you need to call a cease-fire.” I heard General

Tinso’s voice from below us.

“I’ll take care of her. You take care of your kingdom. I think

you still have a king to kill.” Rylan’s familiar voice brought fresh

tears to my eyes.

Damian reluctantly pulled back, and I was passed into Rylan’s

arms. I stared up at his face, sobs tearing me apart. “I’m so sorry,”

I tried to say, my voice cracking, the effort hurting my burned

throat.

“I know. Shhh . . . it’s okay. I know,” he said, staring down at

me, his warm brown eyes wet with tears.

Then I heard Damian’s shout, and I turned my head painfully

to see him standing on the top of the stairs. It seemed like there

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was something about him that I was forgetting — something

important.

“Halt!”
he shouted at the top of his lungs. “As the crown prince of Antion, I order you to cease your fighting immediately!”

General Tinso stood next to him and also shouted, “Soldiers

of Blevon, stand down!”

I glanced out at the crowd and saw Borracio standing back-to-

back with Eljin, holding off a whole horde of Antion soldiers. But

when the two leaders shouted their orders, they turned with every-

one else to look at the stairs. Some in the crowd turned in relief,

and some in confusion.

“My people, we have been misled and mistreated long enough!”

Damian cried out over the sudden silence. I couldn’t tear my eyes

away from him, even though my burns were excruciating and my

vision kept dimming. I fought against the darkness, fought to hear

my prince’s words. A few people cheered, and then a few more.

“My father, the king, has
used
our people, perpetrating atrocities, which shame me and our nation. I will stand for it no longer!” he

shouted. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I imagined the blue fire as

he looked out upon all the people —
his
people — staring up at him with cautious hope lighting their faces. “I have negotiated

peace with Blevon and will call for an immediate cease-fire and

end to this pointless war with a nation that desires only amity with

our people!”

No one cheered anymore and I glanced out at the crowds in

fear, worried that they weren’t going to follow him. That they

didn’t want peace.

But then I realized why they weren’t cheering. One by one, they

were pressing their right fists to their left shoulders and dropping

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to one knee, bowing their heads to their prince, until everyone was

on their knees, some with tears running down their cheeks.

Damian pressed his fist to his shoulder, and bowed his own

head back to them.

At first, I thought the noise behind me was just the sound of

the door burning. But something warned me to turn and look.

“No!” I cried, and tried to jump up in time to stop the king as

he burst through the now obliterated doorway with his sword

overhead.

Damian heard my cry and spun around in time for the king to

swing his sword at him. I watched in horror as the blade rushed

toward Damian’s throat. He didn’t have time to lift his own sword

to def lect it —

And then the king’s sword stopped, as if he’d hit an invisible

wall. Or a shield.

Oh yes, Damian
had
kept yet another secret from me. He, too,

was a sorcerer.

He punched the air in front of him and the king went f lying

back; Hector hit the wall, then fell to the ground. He moaned and

tried to get up, but Damian rushed forward and pressed his sword

to his father’s throat.

King Hector looked at Damian with hatred burning in his

eyes. “You truly are your mother’s son,” he spat.

Damian stood over him, gripping his sword, his chest heaving.

I stared at him and saw the conf lict on his beautiful face. I remem-

bered him telling me, “He’s still my father.”

“He can’t do it,” I said under my breath.

But then his gaze hardened. “You will never speak of my

mother again,” he said, his voice cold.

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For the first time, fear crossed King Hector’s face. “Damian . . .

my son . . . you don’t want to do this. Have mercy on me — I’m

your
father
!”

Damian stared into his father’s face, but I noticed the king

reaching down for his boot.

“Damian, watch out!” I cried out, just as King Hector pulled

out a knife and moved to stab his son.

Before he could, Damian drove his sword through his father’s

heart. “I will show you the same mercy you showed her,” he

snarled, his voice low and hoarse.

King Hector’s grip on the knife loosened, and his hands fell

limp at his side. He stared up at his son for a moment longer, and

then his head dropped to the ground. Damian closed his eyes

brief ly. I saw a muscle in his jaw tighten, and then he pulled out

the blade, which was coated in his father’s blood. Rylan and I were

probably the only ones close enough to see the way his hand shook

and the look of grief that crossed his face.

Hector had been a terrible, evil man, but he’d also been his

father — Damian’s last surviving parent.

We were both orphans now.

Slowly, Damian made his way back to the front of the step, his

shoulders slightly stooped. The crowd was completely silent, hav-

ing watched the whole thing in horrified shock. Prince Damian

looked out over the mass of people for a moment. Then he clenched

his jaw and raised his sword.

“My father’s tyranny is at an end!” he yelled.

General Tinso bowed to him, and then shouted, “Hail,

Damian, king of Antion! Long live the king!”

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The crowd took up the cry, repeating, “Hail, Damian, king of

Antion! Long live the king!” over and over, until Damian bowed

low at the waist to them.

Then he turned and I could see the tears in his eyes when he

looked straight at me and said, “We did it.” His voice broke when

he repeated, “Alexa, we did it.”

I tried to smile at him through my tears, but my ruined face

hurt too much. I wondered how badly I had been burned.

“She needs Lisbet’s help,” Rylan said.

Damian —
King
Damian — nodded.

Rylan stood up, with me in his arms, and the pain escalated

until I couldn’t bear it. But it didn’t matter — I’d done it. I was

finally sure that the people I loved were safe at last.

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 forty-four 

W
hen i woke, I was lying in Damian’s bed, and Lisbet

hovered over me. At first, I couldn’t remember what had

happened or why I was there. But when I moved, I felt the pull of

my injured skin, and everything came rushing back, making it

hard to breathe.

“Shhhh . . .” Lisbet whispered. “It’s okay, Alexa. It’s all okay

now — thanks to you.”

I shook my head, struggling for air against the panic that held

my lungs in an iron-tight grasp.

“Alexa, look at me,” Lisbet commanded, and I stared up into

her dark eyes helplessly. “Breathe, Alexa. Nice and slow. In through

your nose, out through your mouth.”

I tried to do as she asked, and slowly, slowly, the panic receded,

until I could breathe normally, even though my heart still raced.

“There you go. That’s better. Just breathe, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl?
Lisbet
was calling me sweet girl?

She must have seen the confusion on my face, because she

laughed softly, a sad, wistful sound. “Don’t look so surprised,”

she said as she wiped a cool cloth over my brow. Her hand grew still

and her expression somber as she stared down into my eyes. “Thank

you,” she said. “Thank you for what you did. For saving all of us.”

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“But at what cost?” I finally managed to whisper. It hurt to

talk; the skin on the left side of my face and neck pulled funny

when I did. I reached up to touch my face. Where once there

was smooth skin, it was now bumpy. I pulled my hand away in

horror.

“I did the best I could,” Lisbet said sadly. “It wasn’t normal

fire that burned you. I couldn’t heal all of the scars it left, though I was able to heal some.”

I shook my head. “I don’t mean my face. I mean all the people

who died in the battle. Jaerom. And Jude.” Tears ran down my

ruined cheek.