Shadowborn Read online

  The inferno burst from her gauntlet, swirling into the shadow and setting it alight. Bree could sense the steady drain on her prism. It wasn’t enough. Screaming wildly, she demanded it give her all its power. Her blood connected to it, and not just that prism but the five additional blood-soaked prisms in her left hand. The power increased, sudden and dramatic. All the stored power of those prisms flooded in, surging through her blood like a bolt of lightning. Bree’s arm rocked backward, and to compensate she tilted forward and pushed her wings harder. She bathed the shadowborn with her otherworldly fire as she screamed. The heat washed against her body, cracking her skin and burning away the shadowy tendrils that had held her.

  Still not enough.

  “All of it!” Bree shrieked.

  Again the fire exploded wider, hotter. The jolt pushed Bree back farther, forcing her wings to their limits just to hold her body in a steady position. The fire washed over L’adim’s chest, shredding away the crawling shadow. Great swirls of it pulled in from the ground, desperately attempting to replace the thick wall of it burning up beneath Bree’s torrent.

  The prisms in Bree’s left hand shattered one by one, the pieces absorbing into her flesh. She felt them in her bloodstream, for once granting power to her instead of draining it away to replenish. Every shred of her strength channeled fire from her gauntlet as a roaring inferno. She felt her skin burning. Her shoulder broke against the strain. She screamed, but still she let loose her flame. The metal of her gauntlet melted away, charring the skin beneath. The focal prism exploded. No more wires. No more harness, for her wings were dripping boiling liquid silver like rain. What tears Bree cried instantly evaporated.

  The fire never ended. It had no need of focal prisms, no need of wires and wings. The explosion of flame and light roared unending from her bare palm. All of humanity’s rage set free. A blinding star. A sun unleashed. Words belted out from her throat, a maniacal cry of victory.

  “I. AM. YOUR. DEATH!”

  More and more shadow withered beneath the fire. The scream of L’adim’s pain was a thunderous roar in her ears. That crawling flesh peeled away, and away, with nothing to replace it. As Bree felt her strength wane, she saw a pale shriveled skeleton of a being hovering in the very heart of the shadow. It, too, screamed. Bree no longer felt her arm. Her mind was only pain. The world was a distant, imaginary thing. The frail ghost of a man flailed against her fire, trying to resist, to hold back the blaze.

  Death came for her, but Bree refused to go alone. One last burst of flame with every shred of power in her blood coming forth. She watched until her eyes turned blind. She cried until both were consumed. Her last image was of her fire washing over that weak, terrified, ugly wretch of a fallen lightborn, forever cleansing it from their world.

  CHAPTER

  35

  His new wings hummed properly, yet Kael could not pull his feet from the ground. His every muscle locked tight. His jaw hung open, thin tears curling down either side of his face. Bree’s full potential was exploding out from her like hell itself. The shadow of L’adim could not withstand her. His ancient evil could not endure the fury washing over him, fueled by Bree’s blood and rage. It could sunder cities, this power, yet it came from the hand of a young woman.

  The fire was the most beautiful and most horrifying sight Kael had ever beheld.

  The shadowborn wilted before it. The crawling darkness retreated into itself, layering before the brunt of Bree’s eruption only to peel back in cinders and smoke. The brightness grew too much, and he turned away with an upraised arm to protect his eyes. L’adim’s roar shook the ground. His death shook the skies. A shock wave rolled over him, stealing his breath and knocking him to his knees. His wings flickered and dimmed, the light element itself momentarily faltering.

  The light dimmed. The fire faded. Kael looked for his sister, eager to see if she were okay.

  “No,” he whispered. “No, no, no no no …”

  Bree fell from the sky on melted wings.

  Kael ran as he shoved the throttle all the way to its maximum and leapt into the air. He didn’t care that the straps ripped into his sides. It didn’t matter the painful jerk to his neck, or the muscle he felt pull in his lower back. He needed to fly. Bree was falling. He needed to catch her. Rescue her. Know that she still breathed. He raced over the bloody battlefield of mutilated corpses. He passed the ruins of Heavenstone’s walls, the dead of her theotechs.

  It wasn’t in time.

  Kael dropped to his knees beside her body, striking off the throttle. He reached for his sister but stopped halfway. He didn’t know what to do. His mind was empty. Her face was completely burned and scarred. Both gauntlets had melted away, her right hand blackened to the bone.

  “Bree,” he whispered. “Bree, please, don’t …”

  As if she had a choice. The shadowborn was dead. So was his sister.

  Kael tried to lift her up but her wings hitched into the ground, resisting. Most of the buckles were already warped, the leather burned. The wings had melted into her jacket, and he had to strip it off her so he could finally hold her. He kept her close as he let his tears fall. It didn’t feel right. The world, it wasn’t supposed to be a place where he walked without his sister. She was supposed to be there. She was always supposed to be there.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. He hadn’t a clue as for what, just that it felt right to say it.

  He pulled back from the embrace to wipe at his face and sniffle. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. People were coming. So many eyes on him. Unspoken questions. Panic escalated in his breast coupled with an intense need to escape.

  “Get back!” he shouted. “I said get back!”

  More of them. Many also crying. Others staring in muted shock. It was too much. His own emotions were a demon he could not wrestle. Theirs were impossible. Kael undid one of his buckles, wrapped it around Bree’s waist, and then soared into the air. He had but one direction: up.

  Center slowly shrank beneath him at a maddeningly slow rate. Kael kept his neck craned skyward, caring not for below. He wanted higher. He wanted to leave every bit of his sorrow behind while he flew to the stars. The wind blew away his tears, and he pretended that meant they weren’t there. Its roar in his ears drowned out his own sobs, and he pretended that meant he kept silent. Higher. Higher. He must fly higher.

  Kael’s head grew dizzy, and it wasn’t just from exhaustion. The air tasted thin. Every breath felt less satisfying than the last. Wisdom said to stop but his injured heart demanded higher. The wind grew colder and quieter. Kael clutched his sister tightly, wishing their embrace might share warmth. Her stiff body was against him, her chin on his shoulder, her arms curled about his neck in a lifeless hug. What he’d give to feel that embrace tighten, to hear her let out a soft cry as she awakened. A fool’s hope. A denial-filled dream.

  At last Kael could risk going no higher. The cold bit too deep and his lightheadedness was threatening to shift into unconsciousness. The world below was a great sea of blue, dotted by the green specks that were the four islands. Any other time, he’d have found the view both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Now it was another sensation his overwhelmed mind could not process.

  Kael pulled out his sword and carefully opened up the compartment containing his light element. He didn’t remove the prism. Instead he cut the side of his hand and let the blood drip down upon the element. As the drops fell he felt the connection growing in his mind. Its glow grew brighter. The cracks smoothed over. The cloudy gray receded into powerful white.

  That done, he shut the compartment and pondered. His plan was obscenely tricky, not that he cared. First he turned Bree about in her buckles, tightening them further before removing two more of his own to wrap about her instead. That done, he removed his left gauntlet and slowly placed it over Bree’s charred hand, careful to ensure the throttle didn’t shift from their gentle hover. Now the difficult part. Kael undid the straps about his legs, effectively freeing himself from
his harness. He kept his left arm wrapped about Bree’s waist as he slid down and out from the straps holding Bree’s body. Kael’s right gauntlet was still attached to the wings, and he used it to hold himself steady while he maneuvered back up face-to-face with his sister.

  “Almost there, Bree,” he said. He tightened the straps one by one, removing the slack caused by his removal. That done, he positioned her gauntlet so that she held it against her shoulder. Kael gently increased her throttle, flooding new life into her wings. They drifted skyward, Kael’s weight still holding them back. His right hand passed over her left, sheeting it with ice so that the throttle was locked in place. There would be no stopping her, not until the element drained. He didn’t know how far that would be. He prayed it would be enough as he freed his right hand and let the gauntlet hang loose.

  Kael pressed his cheek against his sister’s face. His tears wet her hair. His lips whispered into her ear.

  “I’ll miss you, Bree.”

  Rage and acceptance danced together in his heart. His eyes felt drained of tears despite the sorrow just beginning. The world below had been devastated, yet it had also been given a new chance. Bree died a hero, yet Bree still died. Inseparable, exactly as he and his sister once were, and never would be again. Not until a time long distant, and in a world glimpsed only by the angels. Just one thing left to do. One final act.

  Kael let his body go limp and his arms open wide.

  Let his sister rise.

  Let himself fall.

  The wind carried him down. The silver wings above faded, swallowed by the orange sky. Kael refused to look away, not until the little silver star was gone completely. He wanted the location memorized in his mind so that every single night he would know where to look.

  Kael rolled in the air, shifting so he fell feet-first. Center approached, its green tinted by the setting sun. He thought of letting it greet him. It would shatter his bones like those who’d slammed upon Galen’s surface the moment it struck the Endless Ocean. Instantaneous. No more hurt. No more misery. He’d cry no tears for his sister. That pain in his chest would be gone. A selfish desire. A desperate hope against the overwhelming sorrow.

  But down there were people he loved. People who needed him. Kael clenched his hands into fists and closed his eyes.

  “Take me home,” he whispered.

  Ethereal wings burst from his back in a wide plume. Silver light shone from each feather. A hum filled Kael’s mind, soft and pleasant. His plummet became a float, his descent controlled and gentle. Heavenstone neared. Kael watched his fall, and with but a thought in his mind he shifted his aim. He didn’t care to speak with any of the theotechs from Center, nor the knights and Seraphim who survived. Only one person mattered.

  Clara remained where she’d been when they’d brought her out of the battle. His wings fluttered once, pushing him toward her. He felt his strength waning. His careful fall started to accelerate in spurts. Kael clenched both his shaking fists, demanding he endure. The grass was close. Clara waited.

  Kael’s legs buckled upon landing, and he screamed as he felt bones break. His wings faded away like vanishing fireflies of light. He knelt there, lacking the strength to stand through the pain. His mental numbness battled with the sudden new rush of pain and adrenaline. Kael watched in a stupor as Clara approached, slowly at first, as if trying to remain dignified, and then in a full-blown sprint. She slid down beside him, her entire body locking him in an embrace.

  “I didn’t think you’d come back,” she sobbed. She held him as he’d held his sister, arms tight around his waist, her cheek against his, her tears wetting his hair. He spoke, and as the words came out, he felt the last strong part of him break, his numbness collapsing against an ocean of emotion. An abyss waited beneath him, and he clutched Clara as if she were his wings.

  “I’m here,” Kael said, the declaration the best he could offer. “I’m here, Clara. I’m home.”

  EPILOGUE

  Kael stood before the statue in the empty square, the soft hum coming from its base pleasant and reassuring. The sun was only starting its descent but already Kael heard the pounding of drums and drawing of strings. Tonight was the grand unveiling of the new cathedral, and more important, the first yearly celebration of the shadowborn’s defeat. Given the massive amounts of hard work all the survivors had put in to rebuild from the destruction, the people were eager for a chance to drink and eat and make merry.

  “They’ll sing songs to your name,” Kael told the statue. “I hope that doesn’t embarrass you.”

  A stone replica of Bree hovered in the air before him. Her arms were angled at her sides with swords drawn. Expertly carved flame wreathed the blades. Wings stretched from her back. Not a Seraph’s wings, but those of an angel, feathered and beautiful. Her head was tilted upward, forever looking to the heavens. Beneath her was a large square pedestal, a golden plaque across the front.

  Our beloved Phoenix.

  Child of Weshern.

  Daughter of angels.

  Hero of all.

  The statue hovered an inch above the pedestal, light prisms freely offered by L’fae to keep the monument powered. Even in memorial Bree would not set foot on the ground. That was never where she belonged.

  “They want me to give a speech, you know,” he said. He knew the statue could not hear him, but it felt like Bree was out there somewhere, listening. It just felt right. “Me, a speech. I tried to say no, but L’fae wouldn’t hear a word of it. I should be the one, she said.” He chuckled. “That pretty much ended it. You can’t argue with a lightborn and win, Bree. But you probably know that now, don’t you?”

  He wiped at the tears that had started to build. No time for that. He’d spent enough long nights crying for the dead and mourning his own loss. Tonight was for celebration.

  A soft click of heels on stone alerted him to someone’s arrival. Kael glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see Clara had come to join him. She looked dazzling in a long blue dress, her hair spun up and pinned with diamonds.

  “You just had to wear your uniform, didn’t you?” she said, a playful smile spreading across her lips.

  Kael glanced down at his prim Seraphim uniform, smoothed and steamed by dozens of servants so that not a crease or wrinkle dared survive.

  “I’m nervous enough,” he told her. “The last thing I need is to be stuffed into some itchy suit while I stammer and make a fool of myself.”

  Clara scoffed.

  “If I can spend four hours arguing with pompous foreign representatives, you can handle a quick speech in front of an adoring crowd.”

  She joined him before the statue, falling silent as she looked upon the hovering form. Kael accepted her rebuke without argument. She was right, of course. Her role on the monthly peace council had been a tremendous strain over the year.

  “Did you at least accomplish anything this time?” he asked.

  “Of sorts,” Clara said. “The most important was declaring all forms of prisms a vital necessity. Center will distribute elements freely to all islands, in equal amounts and without need of trading.”

  “So we keep the demons chained and bled,” Kael said. He shook his head. “I’d rather we be done with them for good.”

  “Few see it as a viable option,” she said. “We don’t know how many survived the shadowborn’s defeat. To dismiss them risks our safety.”

  “To keep them risks our safety,” Kael argued. “Have we learned nothing?”

  Clara brushed his face and forced him to look her way.

  “We have,” she said. “And I’m on your side, remember? Give it time. A lot has changed in a year, and that change shows no sign of slowing. We’ll rebuild piece by piece into a better world, and a better people.”

  Kael leaned down to kiss her lips, inwardly berating himself for letting his nerves get the best of him. His arm wrapped about her shoulder, holding her close. He turned back to the statue.

  “What of the theotechs?” he asked. “Did they d
ecide on a Speaker yet?”

  “No, but the options continue to narrow. Whoever wins, we expect they will be a unifier. Center’s citizens crave peace after the destruction L’adim caused their world. Stubborn as they are, the theotechs realize their time of power is fading. We’re stripping away the last of their secrets. They’ll have no choice but to listen to the will of the people.”

  “Good,” Kael said. “It’s a needed change. They spent enough time ignoring both lightborn and humanity.”

  He fell silent. His nerves were still shot, but with Clara beside him and the square calm and empty, he felt content. Not quite happiness, not yet, but it was there in the distance, beckoning him on. Clara cleared her throat, and he raised an eyebrow her way.

  “There was one other matter,” she said. “The talk of a scouting voyage is no longer simply talk. All five islands are offering supplies and volunteers to join a long-term expedition in search of land. They’re hoping you’ll be its leader.”

  Kael chuckled.

  “My blood would ensure we were never stranded no matter how far we traveled,” he said.

  “That might have been mentioned,” Clara said. She poked his side. “You’re also a war hero and the famous brother of the Phoenix. It feels right you should also lead the search for the old world.”

  “The old world,” Kael said. He thought of flying farther than any man or woman had flown in centuries. The call of adventure tugged at his heart. “And what happens if we find it?”

  “Truth be told, we don’t know,” Clara said. “But … but if the land is alive with life, we might direct our islands toward it. We could land, Kael. We could return to the world we fled, of size and scope we could only dream.”

  “We could free the lightborn from their chains,” Kael said. Of all the reasons, that felt the most justified. “I accept the role, with your permission, of course. You might have to go weeks, maybe even months, without my presence. Are you sure it’s worth it?”