“That is of little matter. For your treachery, your power is forfeit.” The sorcerer chanted. He might fool the king into believing he enacted justice. But, in truth, he wanted to add Nyanda's formidable magic to his own. How many mages and lesser sorcerers had he drained to reach his level?
A searing knife slashed through Nyanda’s middle. No screaming, she refused… No! No! No! The pain! Agonized wails escaped her. On and on. By the ancestors, stop! Hands balled into fists, her fingernails bit into her palms.
She burned! Waves of heat left her body, pulled by force, igniting every nerve. Pain gave way to despair. What she'd worked so hard for, taken so quickly. Images passed before her eyes: her childhood on the farm, the outlaws killing her parents, crying over their dead bodies, her dead lover, finding the dying mage…
She fought, doubling over. No! Her life couldn't end this way!
Yet, Pieravor lived.
Blood thudded in her ears, a steady beat to focus on. She placed her hand against the floor, leaving a bloody handprint. Tired. So tired. Stretching out on the floor would be nice. Rest a moment.
She'd lose her life this day.
But so would King Umbri and the bastard guard. With a last whispered spell, she set their deaths in motion.
They’d follow her to the grave.
Nyanda collapsed onto the stones, freeing her lifeforce with one final, labored breath.
Through a fog, she heard Aberfrer say, “Her magic is gone, Your Majesty.”
Her lips turned up into a smile. In a moment, she'd be dead.
For now.
CHAPTER FOUR
Seven Years Later, Human Realm
“What did you learn at school today?” Uncle Lee asked.
Piers bounded into the fourth-floor apartment’s living room where Uncle folded clothes on the couch. Uncle Lee wasn't very good at laundry, not like Mrs. Rice from down the hall. On occasion, she kept Piers, folding an entire basket of clothes without taking her eyes off the television.
The apartment wasn't as nice as some of Piers’ friends' either, not roomy like the houses he'd been to, but Uncle Lee always said,“How much room do we need? You should try living in a barracks with two hundred other men!”He'd never quite explained what barracks were or why he'd chosen to live there in the first place.
“I saw magic today!” Piers crowed. Attending a magic show beat his regular English class.
Uncle stopped mid-messy-fold of a towel. “Magic? They teach magic in second grade?” He almost sounded outraged.
“Yes! This man made cards disappear. He even pulled a rabbit out of a hat!” Piers noticed the hat wriggling before the magician stuck his hand inside and the cards disappearing up his sleeve, but the rest of the class shrieked with glee, so Piers joined in.
Uncle Lee’s stiff posture relaxed. “You know it's not real magic, don’t you?”
“I know there's no such thing as real magic.” What did Uncle think? That Piers was a little kid, easy to impress? “I searched the Internet after school to see what he did. It's all tricks, but still cool. Some of my friends think it's real.” Nice pretending, if only for a few moments.
Uncle smiled, ruffling Piers' hair. “My boy is too smart to be taken in by fakers.”
Piers glowed under the praise. Uncle gave praise quickly, angered slowly, and treated Piers like the most precious thing in the world. “Uncle Lee?”
“Yes?”
Piers dropped onto their saggy brown couch, slinging his bag to the floor. “You got lots of scars. Mrs. Rice says that must mean you fight a lot.” He'd never admit finding odd clothes and a sword wrapped in a blanket hidden in Uncle's closet. Some kind of uniform, maybe?
Uncle sighed like he often did when Piers mentioned the neighbor. “Mrs. Rice ought to mind her own business. But yes, I served as a guar… soldier once, before my term of duty ended, and I came here to take care of you.”
Which explained the clothes and sword, though the sword was only for decoration, wasn’t it? But, of course, being a soldier also explained the fascination with guns on the few TV shows they watched.
Uncle Lee leaned back on the couch, laundry forgotten, a smile lifting the edges of his mouth. “Battles with enemy soldiers did provide the necessary training to convince a certain young man to eat his peas.”