Lives of Kings (29 page)

My heart nearly stopped beating. The feeling of plastic wrap was back around my lungs. I couldn't take a breath.

“Tell us or he dies right now,” Stone said. “And there is no coming back for him.”

Kian tried to stand, but Donald kicked him back down again into a kneeling position. The cut on his neck grew.

“Plead for your life,” Donald told him.

I couldn't control the tears in my eyes anymore. They spilled over, running down my face as Kian met my gaze. I had known those blue eyes for his entire life. There was so much life in them, I couldn't imagine it being gone.

“Be strong,” Kian said to me. His voice was coarse. It nearly broke.

The tears were flowing freely down my face. I had to control myself not to cry out.

“Plead,” Donald growled.

Kian pressed his lips together tightly, his jaw set.

It was a choice between Kian and Seth. My mind seemed to shut down. I couldn't do this. I couldn't choose. Despite whatever answer I wanted to give, my mouth wouldn't open. There was a pounding in my ears. Everything seemed to slow down. I didn't count the seconds that passed, but we stood in silence for a long moment. Then, all at once, Stone shrugged.

“Fine, we'll do this the hard way. Kill him.”

The knife slid across his throat like through butter. Blood poured freely. His eyes slowly closed. When he didn't look at me anymore, and I knew he wouldn't ever look at me again, I couldn't take it.

A rift between my mind and reality took me away from my body. I looked at the room as if from far away. A heart-wrenching scream echoed through the museum and seemed to last forever. Dully, I felt the sting in my throat and realized the sound came from me. I was removed, though — weightless, watching the scene with a cool calm.

I watched as my own body fell to its knees at the same time as Kian fell forward and didn't move. I saw Garrison and Michael come toward me, uncertain, trying to keep me from leaning into the magic that kept me away from Kian as he took his last breaths.

When Garrison laid a hand on my shoulder, I was suddenly sucked back into my body and into my actual world. This was real.

My weightlessness was gone. I was constricted into a body that didn't want to exist anymore. The restraint was too much. I could barely see. My eyes were blurred from the tears. A hundred memories flashed in my mind as I remembered Kian telling me I could be the strongest.

His words bounced around my head. The pulsing came back. The hate. I couldn't even reach out to him or hold him. He was alone as Stone, Donald, and Moira began to walk away.

My body cracked under the pressure. I felt myself breaking into pieces; the rage was just too great. I began to shake uncontrollably. Garrison and Michael backed away.

After a few moments I realized it wasn't just me. The whole room was shaking. The Godelan and Moira had stopped in their tracks. Donald looked once in my direction, hate distorting his expression, before he was pulled away by Stone. They rushed from the room as the walls began to move. Dust fell from the ceiling.

“Gwen!” Garrison was yelling. “Gwen! You'll bring the whole place down! Stop!”

But I couldn't. I was too far gone. I knelt with Kian's body just in front of me, beyond a barrier that had stopped me from keeping him safe. Blood still pooled around him, reflecting in the dim lighting. I got lost in the deep red until it was all I could see. It took over all of my senses. I was nearing self-destruction when I heard Garrison yelling again.

“Gwen! Look!”

I followed his pointing finger but saw nothing. Then, after a moment, Kian's hand moved. Garrison was shaking me.

“He's alive!” he yelled. “He's alive. Gwen! Stop! Bring down the magic wall!”

I tried to rein in what I had started. It was hard and took my breath away. Somehow I chose to dive into the belief that Kian was still alive and I hadn't just seen his last movements or imagined him being alive because I wanted it so badly. I directed my magic into the wall between us.

The magic was strong. It was woven deep into the building, reaching below into the ground and above into the sky. I sent everything I had into it — all the rage, hate, anger, and betrayal I could think of. It wasn't hard, considering I had watched Kian bleed to death in front of me.

As I did, the tension around my chest eased. The plastic wrap that had been fastening around my heart and lungs like a noose loosened, until at last, when I hadn't taken a breath in far too long and had barely anything left to throw at it, I felt the familiar crackling of the magic coming undone.

I rushed to Kian, stumbling and weak, turning him over and laying his head on my lap. His eyes fluttered. My fingers slipping in his blood, I searched for a pulse. It was weak but still there. I didn't have time for the open neck wound to make my stomach churn. There was blood everywhere, and the flow wasn't slowing.

I lay my hands across his neck and tried to control the urgency of my need to heal him. His words about brute strength and blowing up Garrison's nose came back to me. I had to pull back to do this right.

The magic flowed through my fingers. I felt the heat tingling under my palms. Being so close, I didn't have to direct it. The wound was obvious — the magic knew what to do. Mere seconds passed but it felt like hours.

Then the flow of blood stopped. I felt a watery smile stretch across my face through the tears, but it disappeared as soon as I saw that Kian hadn't opened his eyes. His breath was still shallow and his heartbeat was weak.

“Why isn't he waking up?” I asked Garrison and Michael in a panic. They were crouched around me, stress etched on their faces. “Why isn't he waking up?”

Garrison's hands were covered in blood just from crouching next to me. As he brushed a strand of hair away from his face, it left a streak of red on his forehead.

“He's lost of a lot of blood,” he said. “I … don't know how to get him more.” He looked around in vain, as if all of the required medical devices and instructions on how to use them would be nearby.

I began to feel Kian's faint heartbeat in the palm that was holding his hand. Was I keeping it going? Could I help him?

“Take his hand,” I told him, giving him Kian's hand to hold. “Feel the heartbeat?” It took Garrison a few seconds to nod. He was looking thoughtfully at Kian as if wondering the same thing I was. Were we doing this or just tapping into it?

I jumped to my feet.

“Where are you going?” Garrison asked.

“I need to go after them,” I told him. “They still have Seth.”

“But they don't know how to kill him. They can't,” Garrison said.

I shook my head. “He's too dangerous to keep around. Their names must be around here. They wouldn't leave them unattended when we know how to use them.”

I looked to Kian's unconscious face and my feet refused to move. They wanted to stay by his side and monitor his every breath until I knew he would be okay. But I knew he would want me to help Seth, and I couldn't abandon him.

“They're going to do something to him,” I said to Garrison. “Something bad.”

“Well then, I'm coming with you,” he said.

“No!” I had to scream to get him to stop. I didn't want him to let go of Kian. He was holding on to life by just a whisper of a breath. “You have to stay with him. And you're still too weak.”

Garrison began to protest but I gave him a look that implied he was wasting his time. He nodded. He'd been limping ever since hitting the magical barrier, and sustaining multiple head injuries hadn't helped.

“Michael, come with me,” I said.

Without looking back once, I ran out of the museum through the doors I had seen the Godelan and Moira leave through. If I stopped to see Kian's prone form or Garrison looking after me like he'd never see me again, I was afraid my resolve would turn to putty.

Michael and I stumbled as soon as we came out of the building through the back doors. The dawn was lifting. It was early Sunday morning.

The small structure didn't have any windows. It was built like a cave, and we hadn't realized how much time had passed at all. The Godelans' head start on us was enough to make me just want to run into the desert.

“Here!” Michael called.

Tire tracks led into the mountains beyond the village. He set off at a jog. I was thankful for all the training Kian had put us through, though I did dip into my magic to help me make the trek running through the desert and then into the mountains.

By the time we reached the steep, rocky incline, we were both gasping and covered in sweat. I didn't know how much longer I could keep going, but I also couldn't fathom stopping. The hike took on a rhythmic pattern and I found myself drifting away from my body again, not paying attention to my steps.

Since there was only one road up, following their tracks was easy enough. I vaguely noticed the sun rising while we walked uphill. My mind was on Kian and Seth.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the mountain levelled off and we came to a sparsely forested plateau.

“What now?” I asked between gasps.

I turned to find Michael bouncing up on his heels again. He was looking out over the mountain range. I followed his view. It was truly spectacular. Under any other circumstance, I could have stood there and gazed at the mountains all day.

It was as if we could see for miles in every direction. It looked pristine and untouched to me. But Michael squinted at it as if solving an equation.

“It's not right,” he mumbled.

“What?” I asked. “What is it?”

He turned to me. “I figured out why this whole landscape feels weird to me. All of this,” he waved his arms in the direction of the mountain, “isn't natural.”

“What?”

“It was made to look this way,” he continued. “I see it.”

“See what?”

I was nearly jumping up and down from frustration. Michael could clearly see something I couldn't, and it was driving me crazy.

“The names,” he said. “I can see their names. They put them in the mountains — the shapes of the mountains.”

“W
hat
are they?” I was practically yelling.

Michael shook his head. “I can't figure it out! It's like every time I try to say it, my voice just forgets how or my brain loses the train of thought.” He pressed a palm to his forehead as if it would help. “It's why it took me so long to figure out what they'd done in the first place! Seth has to do it. He's the only one who can.”

“But you can't tell him what they are!” I reminded him.

Michael made a frustrated sound, grabbing at his hair and pulling, while I tried to still myself, giving him time to think.

After a few minutes of Michael staring out into the mountains as if he were reading them and me shifting from foot to foot, we were on our way again with no solution. He scoured the trail and eventually led us to a vehicle similar to the one we'd arrived in. It was parked under some trees at what looked like the beginning of a forest. He brought a finger to his lips.

“Shh.”

I nodded.

We crept carefully through the trees, though every little snap of a twig or rustle of leaves that our footsteps made echoed in my ears like a thunderous boom. After a few minutes, Michael stopped to bounce up and down again.

I nearly stomped my foot in frustration.

“What are you doing?” I whispered frantically. He looked at me as if we'd been caught, and my heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“I'm pretty sure we're standing on a volcano,” he said.

Crap.

This was the icing on our horrible, misguided cake. It really was a perfect location to hide their names. The Godelan would win either way. If we didn't fight them because we were scared of the consequences in these mountains, then they would be victorious. If we did, and the whole countryside exploded in lava and earthquakes, they'd still be victorious.

“We have to keep moving,” I told Michael. His trapped and wide-eyed expression suggested he was figuring out the same thing. We were screwed either way.

We continued farther into the dry woods, trying to be sneaky but probably making as much noise as two baby rhinoceroses on a pile of kindling. I crouched lower when I heard voices from ahead.

A few more steps and I realized it wasn't voices — it was sobbing and muffled screams.

Michael had to hold me back because I was ready to run out of the trees. They thinned farther ahead and I couldn't see anything beyond. We crept around the small open area to get closer to the source of the noise.

Finally, I saw Moira's back turned to me. She was sitting on a stump and playing with a stick, absentmindedly drawing symbols in the ground. As much as I wished I were hearing her distress, the noise came from a girl sitting next to her.

My stomach sank. The girl looked to be our age, about my size, with tousled blond hair. Her arms were folded uncomfortably in front of her, and I assumed they were tied. A gag stretched around her head, which accounted for the muffled sounds. She shook with sobs, but Moira ignored her. She must have been one of us, located by the Godelan and Moira. And there was only one reason they were holding her.

Michael touched my arm and pointed. Farther from the treeline, three men were gathered around a small fire. Despite the months that had passed since I was trotted out in front of the same three and a similar fire, I still felt the panic grow in my throat and the immediate desire to run as far away as possible.

Just when I was having trouble with my resolve, I saw Seth. He was propped up against a tree, tied with a rope and gagged just like the girl next to Moira. No one was near him, but he was so far from the treeline we could never get to him without being noticed.

At least he seemed to be okay. He was alert and looking around, probably trying to find a means of escape.

I heard a swishing next to me and saw Michael taking a small pocketknife out of his shoe.

“If I run, I can cut that rope before anyone sees me,” he said.

I held him back by his sleeve.

“Don't be ridiculous,” I told him. “Even if it was just a rope, they'd kill you before you ever made it. Or throw you into the volcano.”

“If it's not a rope, what is it?” Michael whispered.

I remembered when we were in New York, just after finding Seth and Garrison. The Godelan had tried to lure Seth's mind and magic away with some kind of powerful spell. When I tried to find his consciousness to bring him back, seeing the mind magic was like a completely different plane of vision than the real world — but at least I could see what they truly intended.

I squinted at the rope, and Seth, and Moira and the girl, trying to find that place again. But it was hard. In New York, I had just gotten sucked into Seth's magic — it was never my own that could show me that place. Still, I tried to reach for it, remembering what it felt like. I was staring at Seth, willing him to give me the ability to do it again.

It didn't work. The world still looked as plain and normal as ever. I wasn't able to find that amber-coloured space and see what booby traps the Godelan had ready for us.

Suddenly I felt contact with something in the realm of mind magic, and Seth sat up alert, starting to look around into the treeline. He had actually felt me! I was just about to rejoice when Moira stood.

Uh-oh.

She must have felt me poking around. I shoved Michael farther down until we both lay in the dirt, our faces pressed to the ground. I tried to control my breathing, to silence it and calm my racing heart.

Moira looked around and then turned to the girl by her side. “Did you do that?” she asked.

The girl shook her head through her tears. Seth was staring at her intently. I wished I could tell what he was thinking. Unfortunately, it seemed like any connection I could ever have with him would have Moira in the middle.

Checking for booby traps was out. Though I couldn't see the magic around Seth, I was sure they wouldn't just tie him up with any old rope and had to assume getting him free would take some time. Near him, the Godelan were getting ready for their ritual.

It was unsettling how the fire pit was larger now. It was more like a ring of fire than one big blaze. Something told me I didn't want to end up in the middle of it.

Finally, Moira went to join them and see what they were doing. They turned their backs to her, and I knew she wasn't wanted. A plan came together in my mind as I surveyed the scene, but the odds of it working were slim.

I sighed. I had nothing else.

“Michael,” I whispered. “Give me your knife.”

He handed it over unquestioningly. Squeezing his shoulder as thanks, I ran off in the opposite direction, still close to the treeline but farther along the rim of the volcano's edge. Finding a tree close to the woods, I stuck the knife into it as quietly as possible and covered the blade with some leaves.

I returned to Michael, and it was time for step two of the plan. Not knowing how long Moira would be occupied, I crouched low and ran to the bound girl, thinking of how I could condense everything she needed to know into a ten-second conversation.

As I snuck up behind her, I wrapped a hand around her already-gagged mouth. She tried to scream but I whispered in her ear, trying desperately to calm her down before anyone noticed me on the border of the trees.

“Shh,” I urged. “Relax. I'm here to rescue you.”

She turned, blue eyes wide and red-rimmed. Disappointment overshadowed her expression, and I guessed I wasn't the police she was probably hoping for. Her eyebrows tilted questioningly.

“I swear I will explain everything to you as soon as this is over,” I said. “I'm one of the good guys. I'm like you. I have a friend with me — he's good, too. And that guy over there? Tied to the tree? He's one of us. Everyone else is the enemy. That's all you need to know.”

When she continued staring at me, I realized she was still confused, but I just didn't have enough time.

“You have magic, yes?” I asked. It was the only way the Godelan could have found her. She nodded, though after a moment of consideration. This all probably sounded crazy.

“Great,” I said. “I need you to create a distraction. Whatever kind of magic you have, just use it to make everyone stop paying attention to what they're doing. Because what they're doing is bad. I would do this myself, but I will probably have to fight them, and I can't do both, understand?”

Again, she nodded.

“Okay, so when you create your distraction, my friend will run out of trees and free you. Don't be scared,” I told her. “Then he'll go free our friend at the tree over there. I'm going to be busy, so I just need you to stay where no one can hurt you, okay?”

I could tell her confidence in me was waning, but neither of us had much choice right now.

“Try now,” I ordered. “Be ready with a big distraction when you hear a boom.” I ran back into the trees.

I whispered my plan to Michael as we waited. He looked skeptical but didn't argue.

For a few minutes nothing happened as the Godelan were finishing setting up their ritual. All the holes in my plan ran through my mind. I didn't even know what this girl could do, if anything. She was inexperienced, and she had no idea what was going on. What if she rattled a few branches? How would this ever work?

Another ten minutes passed. Nothing happened. Moira didn't come back to the girl. She paced up and down, looking out over the mountains. My nerves were practically gone and I was on edge, pins and needles forcing me into action. It was hard to sit still. I had no idea what she was trying to do, if anything.

Finally I stood, but Michael immediately pulled me down. I was ready to push him off when he pointed to the sky.

“Look!” he whispered.

I wasn't expecting much, when I glanced up, but for the first time in a long time, I felt a sprig of hope. Slowly but surely, dark clouds were gathering above the volcano in what was otherwise a perfectly clear sky on a sunny day.

We watched them form for a short while, growing darker and angrier, moving faster than natural. I vowed to give this girl a big hug if we ever made it out of here.

The Godelan finally noticed when the clouds blocked out the sun and sent shade down onto them. They looked up, confused. Luckily, no one seemed to suspect the girl who had been sobbing half an hour ago. In fact, no one even noticed that she had now composed herself. Her shoulders were set and she sat bolt upright.

Stone waved an arm, and all the rocks big enough to hurt someone rose from the earth. They hovered around him as he stared into the treeline, suspecting us. His eyes shimmered with awareness, like a true predator hunting for his prey. When the other two left the fire, he barked at them without even looking.

“Keep working!” he screamed. His voice, when not eerily smooth, cut like steel.

I swallowed down the fear.

Seth was trying to wriggle out of his restraints now, aware that something was about to happen. The action was making the magic surrounding him fight back, and I could finally see it layered on top of him like the blanket they had tried to trap us with. It would take some time to undo.

As soon as Moira felt our presence, she just froze.

Just as Stone turned to where I had stuck the knife, I sent my magic into the wind. The gentle breeze rustled through the trees and I guided it straight to the knife, where the leaves blew gently off and the steel caught against the sun peeking through the dark clouds.

The glint of the sun's reflection on the metal shone straight through the trees. Stone saw it and acted immediately. Sending all of the rocks in the direction of the knife, he clearly wanted to kill anyone in the vicinity — namely me.

But we were nowhere near. As the rocks and boulders hurtled through the trees, the booming was akin to multiple thunder strikes. The rocks uprooted whole trees and caused them to fall over, toppling that area like it was a row of dominoes.

And then the storm happened. The girl was good. No wonder they had found her through her magic. As if to accompany the noise of rock against tree, lightning struck and thunder sounded in sync. The storm was right overheard. Rain began to pour in thick sheets. Wind hurled us in every direction.

I should have specified the distraction I needed in my plan. While the girl certainly could summon up the necessary weather, it was affecting all of us. Michael and I were having trouble standing amidst the downpour, let alone doing anything else.

Her emotions could almost be heard in her magic. She was upset. Angry. Confused. She was doing with this storm what I had initially done with my fire — self-destructing without even knowing it.

“Get the girl!” I yelled over the rain.

The Godelan were as incapacitated as us, but to my dismay the fire still burned. The ritual must have already been started. There was no way a natural fire could outlast this storm.

It took considerable effort to walk out of the trees. The wind and rain were one factor, and hesitance another. I was the bait. I was the distraction. And three against one, I didn't know if I stood a chance.

Magician turned and saw me approaching. Instead of fighting, however, he kept working on the ritual, just like back in England. He hid behind Stone and Donald, cowardly as usual.

They came toward me. I could barely see their actions through the rain and couldn't hear anything with the howling of the wind. It was like the volume of the world was turned up to maximum. Still, they managed to make it worse.

Doing something that looked like a choreographed dance, they both planted their feet and wove their arms in and out of the air. Suddenly the rain hit me harder. Then it became sharp. Another second and it would pierce into my skin with the force of a thousand knives. I summoned my magic to protect me, but holding them off was all I could do.

I focused on making a wall between them and myself. To conserve energy, the wall was not a room, just a barrier, like I was some kind of magical riot police.