Shadow Heir
Page 53

“The incantation didn’t work,” I said. “It has to be recited by a Yew magic user—”
Volusian was already chanting. I hadn’t been aware that he’d memorized the incantation in my cell, but he knew it word for word. Power radiated out from him as he spoke. Varia let out a strangled cry and pushed forward against the wind I was still using to hold her in place. With more strength than I’d known she had, she sent another blast of that disorientation to Jasmine and me. We lost our balance again, and I dropped the magic. Varia didn’t waste a moment once freed. As soon as she wasn’t fighting my elements, she directed all her strength into banishing Volusian. Doing so meant she had to let up on Jasmine and me again, probably hoping her last attack would delay us from acting in the time it’d take us to recover.
She was right because it took me several moments to get back to my feet and clear my head. As I did, a couple of things happened. Volusian finished his incantation, and although there was no visible indication, I felt the power that had been shielding the objects vanish. Maybe there was some residual protective force left, but it was nothing that couldn’t be broken. The other thing that happened was ...
Varia banished Volusian.
“Be gone, you wretched traitor!” she cried. I felt her magic swell, and the bonds that held Volusian and I together disintegrated. “Go to the Underworld and never return.”
“I shall see you there soon,” said Volusian, undaunted as he began to fade. His gaze turned to me. “I have served you dutifully. Now help me. Destroy her... .”
He said no more because he disintegrated into sparkles, which soon faded into nothingness. Volusian was gone from this world forever.
She’d barely finished that banishing when she unleashed another brain blast at me and Jasmine, even stronger than previous ones. I cried out as that buzzing sound shifted to more of a screech. I felt like my ears would explode. Even through it, I could still hear Varia when she spoke.
“You really think you’ve accomplished anything? Just because your minion took down the shield? Once I gather my conclave, we can have it back up in an instant. Nothing has changed. All of those objects—and your kingdoms—are still in the thrall of the Winter Enchantment.” She took a few menacing steps toward us. “Not that it’ll be your concern before long. Know this, before I make the blood in your head burst: Your lands will suffer terribly for this insult. It won’t matter who succeeds after your death. I will strip those lands of all life, they will freeze and suffer as no other—ah!”
The buzzing and wailing in my ears stopped as one of the objects from the piles came flying over and hit Varia in the head. And when I say hit, it nailed her. There was an audible crack, and she went down instantly, eyes staring vacantly ahead. Her dogs—which had been yapping nonstop—fell silent in astonishment.
I heard a sharp intake of breath and saw Jasmine struggling to shake off the lingering effects of the disorientation. Blood ran from her ears, but she didn’t look like she’d suffered any other ill effects. I caught her hand and helped her up. Once on my feet again, I peered back at Varia’s still body and got a good look at what had hit her. It was the marble bust of Dorian that had been the Oak Land’s gift.
A tremor ran through the room, and I immediately looked up at the ceiling, afraid some earthquake was about to bring the whole place crashing down. Four floors underground was not a great place to be during seismic events. The shaking stopped after a few seconds.
“It’s just the land reacting to her death,” said a pleasant voice. “It’s now unclaimed and seeking a new master or mistress. You could add on to your empire, if you wanted.”
“Dorian?” I asked incredulously.
Sure enough, he was leaning in the doorway, looking as though that was all that was keeping him upright. He actually didn’t look much better than when I last saw him, fresh out of the torturers’ hands. The only difference now, of course, was that he was breathing and conscious. Otherwise, he still looked sickly and broken.
He glanced down at Varia. “That was rather clumsy of me to hit her so hard, I suppose. And a very brutish tactic to boot. I didn’t have much time to think and had to decide on the spot how best to stop her from hurting my two favorite sisters.” He suddenly looked very pleased. “I did, however, manage to do it without hurting those dogs. Very considerate of me. Don’t let it be said I’m not an animal lover—that wretched kitsune aside.”
“Dorian!” It was all I could keep managing to say. Assured of my footing, I ran over to him and threw my arms around him. He returned the hug as best he could while still managing to support himself in the doorway.
“Why, Eugenie. Once again, I almost think you’re happy to see me. Surely you didn’t expect me to let you keep being the hero, did you? You’ve saved me far too many times. I needed to pull my share.”
I was so happy he was alive and mostly well that I still struggled to say anything coherent. I carefully disentangled myself from him. “I don’t know what to do,” I laughed. “I feel like I should cry or slap you.”
He grimaced. “Neither, please. If you like, I’ll provide you with several other more acceptable alternatives for later. But first ... I believe we have a blight to deal with.”
Dorian stretched out his hand, and the marble bust floated to him, compelled by his power over stone and earth. He held the bust in his hands and gazed admiringly at himself. “Such a fetching likeness, isn’t it?”
And with that, he hurled the bust to the tiled floor. The marble sculpture smashed into a hundred fragments and shards. Far away in the Otherworld, the Oak Land woke up.
Chapter 23
It didn’t take long for the Yew Land to be claimed. The same magic users that had aided Varia with the blight were all quick to scramble and seize a piece of her former land. As a result, the kingdom ended up reshifting into three smaller kingdoms. I’d been told that was possible in the Otherworld, but I’d never seen it happen. The three kingdoms shaped themselves to their new masters, becoming the Cork Land, the Cottonwood Land, and the Hickory Land. The Yew Land was no more.
Despite their involvement in Varia’s schemes, the new monarchs—two queens and one king—were quick to make pledges of peace and friendship to my party and the Hemlock contingent. These offers were legitimate, unlike Varia’s absurd “friendly” offer. The new monarchs were concerned with consolidating their power and establishing a rule. Alliances were far more beneficial than conquests.
The new monarchs would’ve hosted us for a while, but my group was anxious to return to our own lands and begin the healing there. We declined all the offers, promising to send ambassadors soon to set up trade agreements and treaties. Considering it might take a while before food production was back up in my kingdoms, this was actually a pretty solid plan.
Before we left, however, I had a very interesting conversation with Magia, the newly crowned Hickory Queen. As someone born and raised in the Yew Land, she was well versed in its history and legends.
“Of course I know about Volusian, Slayer of Souls,” she told me.
Dorian was with me, sitting with Magia in an inn that she’d made her headquarters until a castle could be built. I exchanged surprised glances with him.
“Slayer of Souls?” I asked.
“Definitely an impressive title,” mused Dorian. “I might start calling myself that.” He looked tired but had recovered by leaps and bounds, thanks to Alistir and a healer lent to us by Hadic of the Hemlock Land.
“I admit,” Magia added, “that I thought most of it was legend. According to the stories, Volusian was one of Onya’s most trusted advisers.”
“Onya?” Moments later, I remembered the portrait I’d seen in the throne room, depicting a queen of the same name and her two daughters.
Magia nodded. “Onya the Magnificent. Ganene’s mother. Varia’s grandmother. One of the Yew Land’s most powerful leaders. Their whole family was powerful. It was how they were able to keep passing the land down through the generations.”
“Remarkable,” Dorian agreed. I’d learned enough to know that lineage didn’t affect who controlled Otherworldly kingdoms. Power did. Monarchs certainly wanted their children to inherit, but many times, those offspring simply weren’t strong enough to claim the land.
“Onya had a younger daughter, Nissa the Fair.” I remembered the pretty girl in the painting and wondered if this use of nicknames was a Yew custom or simply a product of that era. I wondered also if history would remember me as Eugenie the Badass. “Nissa didn’t possess nearly the power of her sister and mother, but she was beautiful and kind and loved by many—including Volusian.”
I stared in disbelief. “Volusian—in love?” I think that was more unbelievable to me than any of the crazy acts of magic I had witnessed in the Otherworld.
“He was alive back then,” Dorian reminded me. “Not an undead creature forced to wander the worlds without peace. I imagine that would change a person.”
“Nissa loved him too, even though he wasn’t of the same rank,” continued Magia. “Onya didn’t approve, but she valued him and desperately needed his powers in a war she was waging with a neighboring kingdom. She and Ganene came up with a plan to convince the couple that they could marry after the war, once Volusian had helped lead Onya’s forces to victory. It was all a lie, though, and while he was gone, Ganene and Onya forcibly made Nissa marry a king that they were hoping to secure as an ally. Shortly after the wedding, Nissa committed suicide.”
I was totally hooked now and had nearly forgotten that Volusian—my Volusian—was the hero of this tale. It was rapidly taking on the status of a Shakespearean tragedy.
“Volusian returned to find not only that his betrothed had been given to another man but that she was dead. He was so enraged that he turned to the dark arts and ended up aiding Onya’s enemies. They brought a level of horror and devastation to the Yew Land without compare.”