Final Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 6) Page 8

  “Run,” he croaked. “Run, Adaryn. Find Grace. Keep her safe.”

  Adaryn shook her head and smiled at him, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m going to protect you, Bran. It’s going to be all right.” She reached out a hand, caressing his cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Bran tried to speak, but darkness welled up before his vision. Adaryn was gone.

  39

  Aaric

  A scout returned to the main group, bent low over his horse at a full gallop. He’d barely reined in to a halt in front of Kenroc before speaking. “It’s already begun, chief. Ruis is under attack.”

  “We must hurry,” Aaric urged his horse to a trot. He could see Ruis, a dark smudge on the horizon, and . . . something else, off to the east. Something huge and dark.

  “Shades alive, what an army.” Kenroc whistled. “Our two hundred men aren’t going to make a dent.” He laughed ruefully, shaking his head. “Trust my daughter to wind up in such a mess.”

  Aaric ignored the nomad, frowning. He felt . . . a pull, of sorts. Something calling to him. He needed to find it. He dug his heels into his horse, and the beast leapt forward, running across the plains, mane and tail streaming in the wind.

  Aaric was heedless of Kenroc’s cries to come back.

  Adaryn. Where was she? The dragon said she was the key to victory. They were the key.

  His horse flew across the grass, toward the eastern side of Ruis. The Twyli army was advancing at a rapid pace. Glancing toward the city, Aaric was close enough to see frantic activity on the ramparts. The gates . . .

  The gates were a crumbled ruin. Aaric’s heart pounded painfully. Where was she? His gaze swept out toward the army.

  There. Two lone figures standing between the city and the approaching Twyli. As Aaric neared he could see they were two women. One, a Twyli; the Dark magic emanated from her in sickening waves. The other, Adaryn.

  He’d found her.

  40

  Adaryn

  The Twyli army surged past me, avoiding us, intent on reaching the walls of Ruis. The Oppressors retaliated, gunshots ringing in the air. The conflict raged all around us, but didn’t reach us.

  I crouched defensively in front of Bran, watching Myyre stalk toward me. Calling my enchantment, feeling it come to life inside me, I began to weave a shield, protecting me. Protecting Bran.

  “A shield?” Myyre scoffed, halting her approached. She threw her head back and laughed. “Do you really think that will help you? Against me?” Her yellow eyes glinted, still wet with tears. “Your magic won’t save you, and it won’t save him.” She glanced at Bran’s still form. Was he still breathing? “After I kill you, nothing will stop me.” Her hands were balled into fists held stiffly at her side. “I don’t even want this land, anymore. Not if Hydari isn’t with me. I’m going to destroy it, and everyone in it.”

  I didn’t respond, putting everything I had into the shield. It had to hold.

  Myyre’s gaze caught something off to my right, and her eyes narrowed. “What is that Denali fool doing?” Her expression was incredulous. “Does he really think to defeat me?” I barely had time to glance over my shoulder before she’d raised her hands, fire slamming into a man’s horse.

  The beast went down, its rider barely leaping free before being thrown. He staggered and regained his footing, standing only a few feet from me; his light brown hair disheveled, his gray eyes blazing with anger.

  Aaric.

  How? I stifled a sob, looking at him. Was this enchantment? An illusion? How could he be alive?

  Myyre watched me, a small smile on her lips. “If he’s that dear to you, I’ll be happy kill him first.”

  No. Panic stricken, I spun to face Aaric, the shield shivering away into nothing. Had he escaped death only to meet it again so soon?

  I paused, staring wide-eyed at my husband.

  Aaric now stood still, his eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration. His hands held close to his heart like he was holding . . .

  Something flickered in his hands. A spark that twinkled to life, its light growing stronger.

  “Impossible,” Myyre breathed, shocked painted on her features. “Impossible! You’re a Denali!”

  Magic. I could sense it in Aaric. I frowned. His magic was pulling to me, calling to me.

  Instinctively, I summoned my own enchantment in response, and my magic roared to life. I felt it connect with his and our magic rose like a rising wave. Back and forth, our enchantment rebounded off each other, growing in strength. Stronger than the sky jewel, stronger than the Dark magic. An unbreakable force.

  Myyre shrank away from us. “How is this possible? Hydari said taking Denali essence was the only way to gain true power.”

  I turned to face her. It ended now. Raising my hands, I drew on the magic; my enchantment, Aaric’s enchantment. They were one and the same. Pure, unadulterated magic burst from my fingertips, slamming into Myyre.

  The Twyli woman’s body shattered into a thousand pinpoints of light and vanished.

  The magic continued to roar in my blood, rebounding off Aaric’s power. It continued to grow. Could I stop it? I turned to Aaric, and found my husband looking at me, unshed tears shining in his eyes. He lifted his arms to me, welcoming an embrace.

  I stumbled forward, flinging myself into his arms, my body shaking with the sobs I’d tried to hold in for months. His arms wrapped around me, crushing me to his chest. I lifted my head and his mouth found mine, eagerly kissing me with a passion that our long separation had created.

  On touching him, the roar of magic calmed and ebbed. My spirit calmed.

  Aaric was safe. Alive.

  Everything was going to be all right.

  41

  Fyrsil

  Fyrsil stood, rubbing the soreness from his back. He’d already lost count of the number of people he’d healed today. His grip on the magic was becoming shaky. He wasn’t sure how many more he could heal before exhausting his enchantment.

  Loud cheers came from near the eastern walls, and Fyrsil allowed himself to be led by the crowd that hurried toward the sound.

  The twins were dead; he no longer felt their presence.

  Several nomads came walking up to the gate, carrying Bran. His arms and legs were slack, his face pale. Fyrsil couldn’t make himself feel regret. If that boy survived, it was more than he deserved, the arrogant fool.

  “Bran!” Grace broke through the crowd, her face paling when she saw the nomad. “No!” She rushed to him, grabbing one of his hands. “No. This cannot happen.” Fyrsil tried to meld into the surging tide of people, but Grace spotted him before he could make his escape. “Fyrsil!” She barked his name like the commander of an army. “Heal him.”

  Fyrsil shook his head. “I’m too weak. I’ve depleted my magic from healing others.”

  “Heal him.” Grace’s eyes pierced him like augers, her voice icy. “Now, or so help me, I’ll give you something needing to be healed.”

  Muttering a curse under his breath, Fyrsil stepped forward. He wasn’t frightened of Grace, but women were unpredictable at best. He lifted a hand, hovering it over Bran’s body.

  His life force, his essence, was still there, but barely. His heartbeat, a pitiful, weak thing. He’d been hit with an incredible amount of magic; his body couldn’t process it.

  Weaving threads of enchantment, Fyrsil delicately siphoned the excess magic out of the nomad.

  “There.” The word came out a croak. He was exhausted. “He’ll live.”

  “Thank you.” Grace said. “You’ve done Ruis a great service today, Fyrsil.”

  Fyrsil snorted. “Healing a nomad? Not likely.”

  “A great service to me then.” Grace smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “Thank you.” Dahlia stood by her side, looking up at Fyrsil with large blue eyes. They reminded Fyrsil of Adaryn’s.

  Adaryn. Where was she? Fyrsil tried to clamp down on his rising panic. He had felt her enchantment only minutes before as he healed Ruis guar
ds, an immense wave of power. He would have thought she’d stolen essence if the magic hadn’t felt so pure.

  Ignoring his fatigue, he ran out of the city, past the ruined gates.

  There. She was still out on the plains, walking back toward the city, holding hands with someone. A man.

  Aaric.

  How in this cruel, heartless world the man survived his accident and managed to come here, he didn’t know.

  White-hot jealously ripped through Fyrsil. Adaryn should have been his. With time, she would have been. He was sure of it. But with Aaric alive, there was no hope of that.

  “Do you want me to kill him, Master?” Zero appeared, standing next to him, watching the inventor. He had spent the battle guarding Fyrsil’s back while he’d healed. “I can do it when the woman isn’t watching.” Zero’s expression was one of distaste as he eyed the couple.

  “No.” Fyrsil shook his head. “Prepare for departure. We leave the city with all haste.”

  I want her to be happy.

  Within an hour, Fyrsil and his servant were riding east toward the Dragon’s Tail. Toward Twyarinoth.

  Fyrsil would be king again.

  42

  Adaryn

  “How did you do it?” I lay in bed with Aaric, my head resting on his chest. “My essence. You spoke to it.” Dahlia lay in a bed next to us, her little form still with slumber.

  Aaric ran a hand through my hair, unsuccessfully trying to detangle it. “I’d read about it in a book. Some of it,” he clarified, when I snorted in amusement. “It was also something your father mentioned. He spoke of your mother, and how things in life always turned out better when they worked together.”

  I was quiet, taking in his words. His meaning.

  “It wasn’t until he mentioned that, that I made the connection that magic and essence could be the same thing.”

  I sat up, frowning at him in puzzlement. “How is that possible? The Denali don’t have magic.”

  “They don’t manifest it the same way, Adaryn.” Aaric pulled me back down, and I snuggled close, wrapping my arms around him, breathing in his scent. “But I think the Denali and Twyli are more alike than anyone realizes.” He sighed, and touched the good luck charm around my neck. I’d forgotten I was still wearing it. “They just can’t use it in the manner we do.”

  I was silent for a moment, processing this new concept. “So the only difference between the Twyli and the Denali is the ability to project one’s spirit outward?”

  “As far as I understand it,” Aaric replied. “But of course, I’m not sure. I have a lot of studying to do in the near future.”

  I laughed, patting his arm good-naturedly. Aaric’s curiosity would never be satisfied.

  Aaric spoke again. “I realized merging only works when two Twyli have the same goal, when their essence has one purpose.”

  “In this case, to defeat Myyre,” I said.

  My husband nodded. “Yes. We’ve only scratched the surface of our abilities, Adaryn, and I think if we were to work with the Denali, we could make something really special. A better world.”

  “No more running then?” I asked.

  “No more running,” he repeated, kissing me on the forehead.

  He was right. Months ago I had left this land, wanting to escape my past life. Now I realized that running wasn’t the answer. I needed to heal this land.

  With Aaric. With my heart.

  Thank you for reading my book, Final Enchantment. I hope you enjoyed it. Please consider leaving a review on Amazon.

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  About the Author

  Kara Jaynes is a fantasy and children's book author. She lives in Colorado and loves taekwondo, long walks, and fairy tales. She's been writing since she was very young and has more stories in her head than she could possibly write.

  Please visit the author's website for more information on upcoming books and news at www.karajaynes.com.

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  Final Enchantment by Kara Jaynes

  Copyright Kara Jaynes 2015.

  All Rights Reserved.

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  The stories, characters, and incidents mentioned or depicted in this publication are entirely fictional.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the copyright holder.