Magic Triumphs

CHAPTER 17

I CLEARED THE space between us in a fraction of a second. He groaned, blinking. I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing Conlan in, willing with everything I had to keep Curran alive. Don’t disappear. Please, please don’t disappear.

“Curran, look at me. Look at me.”

He didn’t feel solid. Oh my God. It had happened. The balance within him had shifted. He was more god than man now, and the god part couldn’t exist without the magic. I was losing him.

“Curran!” I pulled magic out of myself and sent a burst of it into him.

His gray eyes focused on me.

I hugged him and kissed his lips, desperate. “Stay with me. Stay with me, honey.”

The muscles under my fingers gained density.

“I love you. Stay with me.”

“I’ve got it,” he said. “I’ve got it. Just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“You shouldn’t have eaten the last one,” Erra said over me.

“Thanks, that helps.” He kissed me back. “You can stop now, honey. I’ve got it.”

I let the magic current die. The pain died with it. I hadn’t even realized I was hurting until it stopped.

Curran gripped my hand. I pulled him to his feet. He draped his arm around me. By the time we reached the kitchen, he was moving on his own. He sat in a chair. I kept my hand on his shoulder. I didn’t want him to disappear.

“Roland wants the kid,” Hugh said.

“Of course he wants the kid,” Curran growled. “He’ll stab us in the back the first chance he gets.”

They both looked at me. “I know,” I said. “We don’t have a choice. As bad as Roland is, Neig is worse. Neig is death and genocide. Roland wants to rule humans. Neig wants to eat us.”

The kitchen was silent.

“We know Roland will turn on us, so we plan for it,” Curran said. “We’re not going into it blind.”

And even if we did get blindsided, there was always the nuclear option. My father couldn’t live without me.

“We need to solve the problem of Neig,” Hugh said.

“And his many troops,” I added.

“Not counting the yeddimur,” Curran said. “If I were him, I’d run the yeddimur at us first, and then when we’re softened, finish us with troops.”

“That seemed to be his strategy when we fought them in Kentucky. Yeddimur are tough to kill. We can fight for hours before we ever touch his army,” Hugh said.

“Can we win this?” Elara asked.

Curran’s eyes went cold. “We don’t have a choice.”

“If we can get Roland to follow strategy,” Hugh said. “That’s a big ‘if.’”

“He will follow it,” Erra assured him.

“Do we even know where he is coming from?” Derek asked.

“My father’s old castle,” I said. “I told him I wanted to behold his army. That’s the only area around Atlanta large enough for him to field all his troops. I wanted to avoid attack on several fronts.”

“With any luck, he’ll do what Roland does,” Curran said.

“Arrange his troops into rectangles and run them at us?” I asked.

“Mm-hm. He’s likely used to relying on numerical advantage.”

“And fire,” I said. “Don’t forget fire.”

“He does breathe fire?” Julie asked.

“Like a jet of ignited napalm.”

“Can you hold him back if you’re in your territory?” Hugh asked.

“Possibly.”

Curran leaned back. “We need to call another Conclave.”

“The problem is, we can’t kill him,” I said.

“Who?” Curran asked.

“Neig. If he decides he’s near death, he’ll just vanish into his lair.”

A whisper of movement sounded from the hallway and Yu Fong stepped out into the kitchen, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a light-brown hoodie. He looked no worse for wear. He moved with a slight stiffness, but his color was good.

“I tried to tell you before,” he said. “There may be a way.”

Everyone looked at me. “Saiman,” I told them. “He performed a ritual that let us talk briefly while Yu Fong was comatose. Each dragon lair has an anchor. It is the dragon’s most precious possession, his greatest treasure, cherished above all others. They pour their magic into it and it’s the foundation of the realm where the dragon makes its lair. But it can’t be destroyed.”

“As I tried to tell you,” Yu Fong said, “we don’t need to destroy it. If we can steal it for a time, the realm won’t respond to Neig’s commands. He will be trapped here and now.”

Everyone paused, mulling it over.

“Can you do it?” Hugh asked.

“No. I’m another dragon. Neig will sense the moment I enter his realm. Even if I could, I would not. The anchor is a thing of great magic that can’t exist outside its realm for long. It will seek to return. It will take enormous power to restrain it. The temptation for me would be too great. If I touch that anchor, it will pull me into Neig’s realm, and I have no intention of leaving this world. My place is here.”

“If not you, then who?” Curran asked.

“You have a book,” Yu Fong said. “About short people who sneak into a dragon’s lair and steal his anchor. Someone small and insignificant.”

“I’m small and insignificant,” Julie said.

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” she told me. “Kate, I’m small, sneaky, and quiet. I have a large reserve of magic and I know how to use it.”

“The child has a point,” Erra said.

“Everyone else is needed,” Julie continued. “You are the In-Shinar. Curran has to lead the mercs and inspire the shapeshifters. Hugh has to lead the Iron Dogs, Elara has to absorb witch magic, and Yu Fong can’t do it because he is a dragon. I can do it.”

“I’ll go with her,” Derek said.

“It would have to be done during the battle, when the madman is occupied,” Yu Fong said. “I know what will occupy him.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Me,” he said. “The moment he sees me, he will attack. I will buy you some time.”

“One flaw in this plan,” I said. “How will Julie get to the dragon’s realm?”

“Did you keep the shard of his fang?” Yu Fong asked.

“Yes.”

“It will act as a key. I will open the way. The timing will have to be perfect.” Yu Fong leaned forward, his gaze on me. “I repeat, a removed anchor seeks to reunite with its realm. Neither can exist apart. It will require great power to hold the anchor. And we don’t know how vast Neig’s realm is. We don’t know where he hides the anchor.”

The phone rang. Julie picked it up. “Yes?”

She held it out to me. “Ghastek.”

I took the phone with one hand, keeping my other one on Curran. “Please tell me you have something.”

“I do,” Ghastek said.

“I’ll be right there.” I hung up and turned to Julie. “The anchor is the eye of his dragon throne. It’s the ruby the size of a grapefruit located in the first room you enter once you cross the drawbridge. He is an arrogant ass. He doesn’t think he has to hide it. No heroics, Julie. Get in, get out, bring me the anchor, and I will restrain it.”

GHASTEK DIDN’T WANT to risk bringing outsiders into the vampire stables. Instead they had moved the yeddimur into one of the side rooms. It sat in a loup cage, staring at us with its owlish eyes. At one point it had been a human baby. Atlanta had a lot of babies.

Ghastek, Luther, Saiman, and Phillip had arranged themselves around a table strewn with notes. Some notes had coffee rings on them.

Curran sniffed the air. His lips stretched, baring the edge of his teeth. The yeddimur stench. I squeezed Curran’s hand. He was still here with me. So far, the tech had failed to steal him from me.

Behind me Hugh grimaced at the yeddimur. He had insisted on coming. We had dropped Elara at the Covens. Now we were facing the yeddimur, Luther, Ghastek, Phillip, and Saiman. The four experts looked rather smug.

“We figured out how it was made,” Phillip said, excited.

“Venom,” Saiman told me.

“Dragon venom,” Luther corrected. “Applied very shortly after birth, probably inhaled.”

“That remains to be determined,” Phillip said.

“Concentrate,” I told them, before they launched into another bickering session.

“It’s a dog,” Ghastek said. “For all intents and purposes, it acts as one. A dog has to be able to discern commands.”

“However, according to all of d’Ambray’s notes, the warriors never make any gestures,” Luther said.

“We theorized that the commands are subvocal,” Saiman said. “They have extremely efficient ears, sensitive enough to catch a whisper.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Hugh said.

“How does any of this help us?” I asked.

“Wait.” Ghastek pushed a key on the phone. “Bring in subject B.”

The double doors in the wall opened and two journeymen pushed a second cage in, also containing a yeddimur.

“Where did you get the second one?” Curran asked.

“Beau Clayton,” Saiman said. “His deputies caught one.”

The journeymen connected the two cages, locking them together. They gripped a steel handle, pushed it to the side, and the gate between the cages fell open. The yeddimur on the left scuttled over and sat on its haunches next to the yeddimur on the right.

“They’re us and we are social animals,” Luther said.

“They are quite happy sharing the cage,” Phillip said. “They sleep together and eat together.”

“We had to ask ourselves, if they are controlled by subvocal commands, then what would be the exact opposite of that?” Saiman said.

Ghastek turned to Luther. “If you please.”

Luther nodded, reached behind the desk, and produced a set of bagpipes.

“You play bagpipes?” I asked.

“No, but it was determined via experimentation that of the four of us, I produce the worst sound.” Luther stuck a pipe into his mouth and blew on it. A piercing note screamed through the room.

The yeddimur screeched.

Luther blew on the pipes. A cacophony of sounds filled the space. Curran clamped his hands over his ears. The yeddimur snarled and ripped at each other. Fur and blood flew.

Luther stopped.

The yeddimur took a few more swipes at each other and broke apart, each skulking to its own corner of the joined cages.

“We’ve tried over fifty different sounds,” Ghastek said. “Bagpipes are the most efficient. We’ve attempted them fifteen times and every single time we’ve gotten the same response.”

Suddenly the bagpipes on the druid stone made total sense.

“The sound drives them mad,” Luther said.

“It drives me mad,” Curran said, his eyes shining with gold.

I looked at him and Hugh. “Can we use it?”

“We could,” Hugh said.

“If we could make the sound loud enough,” Curran said.

Ghastek looked at Phillip. The mage smiled. “The Mage College offers thirty-seven specialties. One of them is sound and light amplification. As long as you find bagpipers, we will amp their sound loud enough to wake the gods.”

“That’s amazing,” I told them, and meant it.

All we had to do now was pull the city together and cobble an army to face Neig. We had three days in which to do it. It had to be enough.

Atlanta would come together. We weren’t just one thing. We were many: shapeshifters, necromancers, witches, mages, mercenaries . . . We came in all shapes and sizes, in every age, in every human color, in every variation of magic, and from that we drew our strength. We were surprising and unexpected, and we were united.

Atlanta would hold its own. It always did.

“BABY,” CURRAN WHISPERED into my ear.

I opened my eyes. I was so warm and comfortable, wrapped in him. As long as we stayed in bed like this, under the sheets, nothing could go wrong.

The magic was up. It was day five. We’d caught a lucky break, finally, and after a short magic wave on the first day of our three-day timeline, the tech held for three days and four nights. The shift happened while we were awake, and Curran remained solid this time. The tech, like magic, flooded the world with various intensities. A strong tech wave could rip him away from me. I lived these days in a state of constant paranoia.

The rest of it was a whirlwind of negotiating, explaining, demonstrating, pulling the alliance together. Between Curran and me, we’d probably gotten about twelve hours of sleep in the last seventy-two, but last night, after the bulldozers finally rolled off the field and the last of the preparations had been made, we finally went to bed, in a tent, on the outskirts of the battlefield. Martha and Mahon took Conlan, so we could rest. We were alone.

Neig was coming.

I reached for Curran. He kissed me. We shared a breath. I kissed him back, and then again and again, his lips, his stubbled jaw, his face. His hair had grown overnight into a tangled mane, and I threaded my fingers through it.

He pulled me closer to him, our bodies sliding together with ease and practice. He kissed my neck and my lips. For three days, I’d been Sharratum, because I’d had to be. I’d met with the mayor and the governor, as part of the Conclave’s delegation. I’d called in favors. I’d promised the sky and the moon for assistance. But right now, I was Kate, and I kissed him with desperate need. He responded as if I’d set him on fire and he couldn’t wait to burn.

“This won’t be the last time,” he said.

“Not if I can help it,” I told him.

“I promise you,” he said, his voice low, almost a snarl. “This won’t be the last time. Do you trust me?”

“With everything.”

“It won’t be the last time,” he swore.

We made love, hot and wild. Then we got up, cleaned up, got dressed, and stepped out of the tent.

In front of us and behind us, tents lined the fields cleared on both sides of the road. A sea of tents. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, and in the young light, the world seemed fresh. I took Sarrat and the other saber I carried and walked east, to the apex of the low hill that stretched north to south. Erra was already there, staring at the battlefield.

It stretched before us, rolling into the distance. My father had cleared it two years back, because he’d planned to build the Water Gardens there, a place of his favorite childhood memories. Normally the vegetation would’ve reclaimed it by now, but when my father wanted something to stay clear, it did. It was a wide rectangular field, two miles wide and six miles long. The jagged remnants of a stone tower, still black from soot, stuck out in the middle of it, all that remained of my father’s castle. We’d left it on the field. According to Andrea, it made a handy marker for her ballistae.

I glanced to the right, where the battery was positioned. She was already there, pointing at something and arguing with MSDU’s colonel. The military had joined us. The National Guard came first. The guardsmen weren’t full-time soldiers. Most of the time, they were mechanics, teachers, police officers, office workers. As we pulled the city together for battle, a lot of them got swept up in it. On the second day, Lt. General Myers, a fit black woman in her late fifties, walked into our headquarters in the Guild. I was trying to read through the convoluted document the Druids had drawn up, outlining the terms of their cooperation, and I finally threw it into Drest’s face and told him that either he fought with us or he could deal with Neig on his own after he burned Atlanta to the ground, but I didn’t have time for his machinations. He swore and stormed out, and then she was there. We looked at each other for a long moment, and then she said, “What do you need?”

No conditions. No bargaining. Just “What do you need?” I told her, and she made it happen.

We needed everything. We had everything there was to be had now: the MSDU, the National Guard, the human volunteers, the mercs, the Red Guard, the Pack, the People, the Order, the mages, the Covens, the volhvs, and the other pagans. We even got the Druids, which was why if I squinted hard enough, I could see small white stones sitting on both sides of the field.

We were as ready as we were going to be.

It wouldn’t be enough unless my father showed up. He’d come to visit during that short magic wave on the first day to discuss strategy. He sat at our kitchen table while Hugh, Curran, and Erra tried to explain things to him in two languages. At one point he declared that we were making it too complicated, and then Hugh drew stick figures on pieces of paper, trying to explain it. My father had gotten the strategy by the end, but whether he would stick to it was anyone’s guess.

“Do you think Father will show up?” I asked her.

“He will,” she said.

Martha joined us, followed by George, carrying Conlan. I took him from her and hugged my son. I’d thought about trying to send him out of the city, to hide him somewhere, but it would be no use. My son shone too bright. Either my father or Neig would find him, and if not them, someone else. For Conlan to survive, we had to triumph.

Everything was on the line.

Clan Wolf began to form up in front of the hill, just inside the boundary of my territory. Most of our forces were strategically positioned already, but Clan Wolf was the front and center, backed by Clan Jackal, the Guild’s mercs, and the National Guard. I could see Curran’s blond mane down there, as he moved among the ranks. The shapeshifters looked at him with awe. He was their god come to life.

The mages were arranging themselves on the hill to the left. A good number of them looked really young. Phillip had brought students.

The witches waited in the rear, flanked by Hugh’s Iron Dogs.

Andrea strode up the hill. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.”

“Are you and I cool? Or are you going to hold this Hugh thing over my head?”

“We’re cool.” I didn’t even care about Hugh anymore. “Knock them dead.”

“You still owe me a lunch.”

“Oh for the love of . . . Fine. When and where?”

“You know where.”

“Fine. Parthenon it is, two weeks from now.”

“Deal.”

She raised her fist. I bumped it with mine. She went back down to her battery.

My aunt spun to me, baring her teeth in a vicious grin. “He comes.”

A line of white light snapped across the horizon, at the other end of the field.

I hugged Conlan to me. “I love you. Mommy loves you so much.”

He clung to me, suddenly alarmed.

The light broke and spat a line of armored men onto the field. From this distance, they looked like toy soldiers.

Horns blared on our side. MSDU raised the Red, White, and Blue, the National Guard added Georgia’s flag, and then individual standards snapped up at different parts of the field: Pack gray, burgundy for the Red Guard, black for the Guild, and my own green In-Shinar banners among the People.

Another line stepped out of the light. Another. Another. They kept coming.

Javier ran up the hill, followed by two other journeymen, five freshly made undead at his side. Javier bowed his head. “In-Shinar.”

“It’s time,” my aunt said.

I didn’t want to let go of my son.

“Kate,” Erra said.

I kissed Conlan’s forehead and handed him back to his grandmother. Martha kissed him. “You be good for your auntie. Grandma has to go and slap some bad people on their heads.”

George took Conlan and smiled at him. “Wave bye to Grandma.”

The undead knelt before me. I cut my arm and raised Sarrat. The undead’s eyes blazed with red as the navigator bailed, releasing its mind. I swung my sword and opened the undead’s throat. My blood mixed with the undead’s, and the magic that gave both of us life sparked. I pulled the blood to me, shaping it, sliding it over my body.

The soldiers still kept coming.

To the left Barabas looked at Christopher, then at the lines of soldiers. Christopher’s face was calm, but the muscles on his bare arms were bunched up, tense.

“Will you marry me?” Barabas asked, still looking at the army flooding the field.

“Yes,” Christopher said.

Barabas turned to him. Christopher leaned in and they kissed.

Julie ran up, out of breath. She wore a reinforced chest plate, painted green and precisely fitted to her small frame. The design looked familiar, even though the color wasn’t. I’d seen it before on Iron Dogs. Hugh had had it made for her.

“Where have you been?” I asked her.

“Saying good-byes,” she said.

I opened the second vampire, mixed my blood with its blood, and continued. The final drop hardened on my skin. I stretched, testing the blood-red armor. Flexible enough.

“Good.” My aunt approved.

I opened the third vampire and let the blood coat Sarrat and the other saber, hardening both to a preternaturally sturdy but razor-sharp edge.

“Sword,” I told Julie.

She handed over her blade and her spear. I dipped both into the blood and sealed them with magic. I couldn’t make long-lasting weapons like my father. Not yet. But they would last through the entire magic wave, and it would have to be enough.

“You know where to be and what to do?” I asked.

She nodded.

“I love you,” I told her. “Be careful.”

She hugged me and took off down the hill, back toward the Iron Dogs. Today her place was with the witches and Elara.

Neig’s soldiers still kept coming. I couldn’t even estimate the numbers. Fifteen thousand? Twenty? Thirty? A dark mass swirled in front of them, streaking through the ranks to the vanguard of the army. The yeddimur.

Curran jumped, clearing the hill in three huge leaps. He kissed me.

“Happy hunting,” I told him.

“You, too.”

He went back down.

I glanced at the mages. Phillip had rounded up every bagpiper in Atlanta. They crowded behind the line of students. The rest of the mages had moved on farther to the left. Phillip caught my gaze and nodded.

I looked back to the battlefield and waited.

Nick marched up the hill and stopped next to me. “I take it back,” he said.

“Which part?”

“You didn’t exaggerate the threat.”

“Be still my heart. Does that mean you’re ready to believe there is a dragon?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You are such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one. Try not to die, Daniels,” he said.

“You, too. Who would I fight with if you weren’t here?”

The light in the distance blazed bright red. The soldiers parted in two, allowing a chariot to pass between them. It was huge and ornate, and it glowed with pale gold.

“Look, a golden chariot and Dad isn’t here,” I told Erra.

She ignored me. Well, I thought it was funny.

The chariot came forward, drawn by four white horses. It pulled ahead of the line, past my father’s ruined tower. Neig’s voice rolled through the battlefield. We shouldn’t have heard it from that far away, but suddenly it was everywhere, filling the air, touching us.

“BEHOLD MY ARMY.”

The ranks of Atlanta’s defenders went still. We looked at lines and lines of soldiers, a sea of armor and weapons.

“WHAT IS YOUR ANSWER, DAUGHTER OF NIMROD?”

I pulled the magic of the land into me and answered, sending my voice down the battlefield.

“YOU WANT ATLANTA? COME AND TAKE IT IF YOU DARE.”

NEIG’S ARMY MOVED as one, rolling forward, past him, aiming at our lines. The yeddimur broke into a wild run, swarming like bees. He was running them at us, relying on pure numbers. I almost screamed in relief.

To the left, Phillip’s clear voice commanded, “Prepare amplification spheres.”

Magic shifted. The line of students raised their arms. A transparent sphere formed above each of them, three feet wide and shimmering like hot air rising from the pavement, and spinning.

The yeddimur loomed before us, screeching excited high-pitched shrieks as they ran.

“Hold it steady,” Phillip said.

Eight hundred yards to my boundary.

Six hundred.

I wanted to be down there, on the field, on the front line with the werewolves and Curran.

Four hundred yards.

Yu Fong came up and stood on my right without saying a word.

Andrea’s battery fired a volley of sorcerous bolts. Bright green explosions punctured the yeddimur’s line, but there were too many. She didn’t follow it. The volley was just for show and she wanted to conserve the bolts.

The swarm kept coming. Behind it, Neig’s soldiers marched like an unstoppable avalanche of steel.

Three hundred.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Phillip said. “The bagpipes, please.”

The shrill howl of bagpipes answered. I’d asked Phillip what they were going to play, and he’d told me “Bloody Fields of Flanders.” It was an old bagpipe march, composed in World War I. Later it became another song, “Freedom Come-All-Ye,” a story of a nation that loved freedom more than war.

Erra winced next to me. Nick grimaced.

Two hundred yards. The yeddimur were almost on us.

“Engage,” Phillip screamed.

The spheres became still. The bagpipes next to us suddenly went almost silent, as the amplification spheres sucked in their sound. A moment later a deafening blast of sound hit the yeddimur.

The swarm halted, collapsing on itself.

“Keep playing,” Phillip said, his voice upbeat. “Keep playing. Faculty, continue to project. Everyone is doing spectacularly. I’m truly privileged to be working with such a talented group.”

The swarm shattered. Those in the front and middle ripped into each other; those in the back turned around and tore into the front line of Neig’s troops. Fighting broke out in the middle of Neig’s army.

A ragged cheer came through our ranks.

Neig’s troops split, flowing around the lines engaged with yeddimur like a stream split in half by a rock. They hugged the edges of the field and continued their advance, closer and closer to the druids’ stones.

Closer.

Closer.

Almost there.

They were a hundred yards from our line when the ground under both columns of soldiers gave. Hundreds of men collapsed into the twin trenches. We’d dug them with bulldozers and explosives over the last three days. They were ten feet deep and twenty-five yards wide, and they swallowed the advancing columns whole.

Howls of pain went up, almost breaking through the bagpipes. Black shiny tentacles flailed, spilling out of the trenches, yanking the nearby soldiers into them.

“What the hell are those?” Nick asked.

“You don’t want to know.” Roman had been in charge of the trenches.

Neig’s soldiers moved away from the trenches, edging farther to the sides of the field, almost to the tree line on both sides.

The brush on the left burst. Huge shaggy bodies tore into armored men, pushing them toward the trench and the writhing death within. Clan Heavy had arrived. Neig’s warriors fought back, but the werebears had mass and momentum on their side.

On the right, vampires dashed out of the woods, slicing at the other column. The tide of Neig’s soldiers slowed. We’d cut them in half and bled them. But there were too many. So many.

Minutes crept by. The werebears and the vampires chewed the twin prongs of Neig’s vanguard. Blood drenched the grass.

Neig stepped from his chariot. Shit.

I reached out and grabbed Nick’s hand. “Look.”

Neig strode forward, his furry mantle flowing behind him. His body split open, releasing the darkness within. It billowed, solidifying, growing, expanding, building on itself. A black dragon landed on the field, towering over the battle line, so huge my mind refused to believe it was real.

Nick’s mouth hung open.

Neig’s soldiers ran to the sides, scrambling away from the dragon, but the front lines, holding back the maddened yeddimur, had nowhere to go.

The colossal reptile opened his mouth. A torrent of fire hit the knot of writhing yeddimur and his soldiers. They vanished in the blaze, dark shadows swallowed by the white inferno.

Neig doused the field like a colossal flamethrower, burning everything in his path. He’d cleared the blockage. It cost him his yeddimur and a good chunk of his soldiers, but now the field was clear and we were screwed.

Nick clicked his mouth shut. “He’s going to break through. I’ve got to get down there.”

He took off at a run.

Neig’s massive wings opened.

“Retreat!” I yelled at Phillip.

The bagpipes blew a single clear note. Clan Heavy disengaged and broke into a run, galloping toward us. On the other side, the undead streamed for the boundary.

I raised my arms to the sides, gathering the magic to me, molding it into a shield. I had done this before. I held off my father when he tried to rain fire and rocks on the Keep. I couldn’t do anything about Neig’s soldiers—too few and too insignificant magically on their own—but he was huge and brimming with magic. He presented a very defined target. If Neig thought he was about to fry us, he would be in for a surprise.

Neig’s wings beat once, twice, and he took to the air, shooting straight up.

Clan Heavy was running for its life. Faster, I willed. Faster.

Neig dove from the sky, torching the woods to the left, circled, and set the woods to the right on fire.

The undead were all in, but Clan Heavy was slow. Two werebears lagged behind. The fire caught them twenty yards from the boundary. Their shaggy bodies vanished, instantly burned to a crisp. Neig shot upward, picking up speed.

Here’s hoping my magic would be enough.

The dragon swooped down, like a striking hawk, and spat fire. I jerked the shield of magic up. The fire splashed against it. Pressure ground on me. I clenched my teeth and held.

There. How do you like that, you asshole?

Neig climbed higher, turned in midair, and threw himself at my barrier.

Around me people ducked on instinct.

The dragon smashed into my shield. The impact reverberated through my bones. It felt like my whole skeleton snapped. I snarled and held the shield in place. He bounced off it back into the sky, spun around, and hit it again. The shield held.

“Brace yourselves,” my aunt roared.

The field was clear. All of the yeddimur were dead. There was nothing between us and Neig’s warriors except for smoking corpses.

Neig’s army charged.

FIRE.

Claws.

Fire.

Fire.

Ramming at full speed.

Fire.

My nose was bleeding. My breath came in ragged gasps, as if I had run a marathon with a hundred-pound weight on my shoulders.

Below me fighting raged. The trenches funneled Neig’s army into a five-hundred-yard killing field, and going around the trenches from the outside wasn’t an option. Neig had set the woods on fire. The trees burned like torches. Soot and smoke filled the air, mixing with blood and heat. The sorcerous ballistae whined, sending charged bolts into the mass of troops, followed by the steady booms of explosions. Andrea had tried to hit Neig, but he was too fast.

Neig’s troops brought up the engines of war and hurled fiery boulders at us. I held off the first three barrages, so they switched targets and aimed at the front of their own line, just outside my protective boundary. The rocks rolled at our people, and I couldn’t stop them and hold off Neig at the same time.

We were trapped together in five hundred yards of hell on earth, and Neig’s war machine ground us into mush. Mages hurled their spells and Neig’s soldiers spat fire back. Witches summoned horrors, pagans evoked their gods, the military pounded the warriors with advanced magic weaponry, and still Neig’s troops kept coming, unstoppable, unending. There were always more.

The bloodbath raged. Screams, howls, and snarls filled the air. The bagpipers had long ago stopped playing. Now only the voice of the battle could be heard. It hung above us like an oppressive din, the song of dying, pain, and fury.

Where the hell was my father?

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but it had to have been hours. The sun had reached its apex. My world had shrunk to Neig and magic. I wanted to be down there, in the slaughter, but Neig saw me and Yu Fong next to me, and we were too tempting a target. All I could do was contain him.

He was tiring. So was I. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

A werewolf swung into my view, covered in blood and someone’s guts. She grabbed a bucket of water from next to me and drank, spilling it over her monstrous face. “We can’t take much more,” she snarled in Desandra’s voice.

Neig dove at me, unleashing a torrent of fire. I held it back.

“You have to hold,” I told her.

“If you have an ace up your sleeve, now’s the time.”

An undead ran up to me. “We’re taking heavy casualties,” it said in Javier’s voice. “Lt. General Myers is dead. Ghastek states that in another half hour, we will run out of vampires.”

Neig screamed and smashed into my shield. I took a step back, snarled, and shoved the magic back at him.

My father wasn’t coming.

We had to retreat. If there was any hope for anyone surviving, we had to retreat.

Another blast of fire. Damn it, didn’t that fucking dragon ever get tired?

A clump of Neig’s soldiers broke apart below. Curran emerged, bloody, huge in his warrior form, looking like a demon. The shapeshifters rallied around him, but even he was getting worn out.

Roland wasn’t coming. He had betrayed us once again.

“Kate,” Desandra snarled. “I need a decision.”

The vampire hovered by my feet.

To the left, Julie and Derek, both covered in blood, waited.

We’d lost. If we turned back now, at least some people would survive.

I opened my mouth to tell them to retreat.

Magic burst at the far end of the field. The sky above us darkened. Huge rocks plummeted down from the clouds, burning as they fell, and crushed the troops on the field before us.

Oh my God.

The rocks smashed into the ground, cracked open, and glowing swarms of brilliant green bees spilled out, stinging Neig’s warriors. The rocks melted, boiling into a glowing slime. The slime snapped out, grabbing at the remaining troops, and they screamed as their bodies melted. A huge hole opened up in the center of Neig’s forces, and through it, I saw my father.

I forgot to breathe.

He rode a glowing chariot, drawn by mechanical horses. He was young and beautiful, and full of magic so powerful it hurt to look at him. He shone, brilliant and sharp, like a second sunrise. Behind him, an army rose.

My aunt appeared by my side. “Look! This is your real father! This is the brother I haven’t seen for eons. Look, child!”

My father raised his hand. A serpent of pure glowing magic tore out of it, snaking its way through the battlefield, devouring all in its path.

He came. He hadn’t abandoned me. My father had come to fight.

Neig spun in the air. A terrible screech tore out of the dragon’s jaws.

“Your dad is hot!” Desandra said, surprised.

I snapped out of it.

Neig dove at my father.

I spun to Yu Fong. “Do it now.”

Yu Fong pulled the shard of a tooth out of his clothes and carved a vertical line, from as high as he could reach down to the ground. A glowing hole opened in the fabric of the world. Derek grinned, a feral baring of teeth. Julie ducked into the gap and he followed. The glow vanished.

Yu Fong tossed the tooth aside. An overpowering heat emanated from his skin, the air streaming from him in transparent currents.

I backed away.

Yu Fong’s body burst. A creature spilled out, twenty-five feet long, a muscular leonine body covered in scales. A huge head crowned with a red mane sat on a thick but agile scaled neck, its face a meld of dragon and lion. A serpentine tail snapped.

The beast that used to be Yu Fong charged onto the field. His body burst into flames, red fire coating him like a mantle. Neig’s warriors parted like water, letting him pass.

On the other end of the field, Neig spun away from my father.

“I am the Lord of Fire!” the Suanni roared, tearing through the warriors like he was a comet. “Face me, coward!”

I grabbed my swords and dashed onto the field, through the gap Yu Fong had made. I had to find Curran.

The ranks of warriors were closing ahead. A moment, and they surrounded me. I spat the power word “osanda.” They went down to their knees and I cut my way through them, pushing my way forward, to the center of the battlefield. Blood sprayed. Bodies fell amid hoarse screams. I cut, severing limbs and carving bodies with blades and magic. Fire and lightning streaked above my head, ripped through by a stream of glowing green bullets from a machine gun. Fighters tore at each other, shapeshifters disemboweled their opponents, vampires ripped into bodies. Carnage reigned, the roar, bellows, and moans of the dying blending into a terrible din.

I cleaved a body in two, opened my mouth, and screamed. The word of power burst from me, straight as an arrow, searing Neig’s fighters, mangling their bodies. I tore into the gap, cutting like a dervish in a familiar lightning-fast pattern, severing limbs and spraying blood, unstoppable, without mercy.

A yeddimur popped up in front of me, the lone survivor of the fire and bagpipes. I carved him from shoulder to waist and kept going, reaping a harvest of lives, spitting magic and bringing death. On the left a clump of bodies exploded, and Hugh roared, covered in blood, a bloody axe in his hand. We connected, back to back. For a brief moment we stood alone in the carnage, and then we broke apart and charged back into battle.

Suddenly the clump of warriors around me split. They fled, panicked. Wind hit me, nearly taking me off my feet. A huge black lion landed next to me, his wings wide, glowing with silver. Curran had assumed his god form.

I jumped and climbed black fur onto Curran’s back. He sprinted and then we were airborne. The battle yawned below us. Ahead, Neig spat fire at Yu Fong in a steady torrent, circling him, great wings beating. Yu Fong limped along the ground, his side torn, sending a torrent of white flames back. My father stood, caught in the middle of it all, a protective bubble of magic glowing around him, reflecting the dueling fires. He held a spear in his hands.

Curran dived at Neig. I jumped, aiming for the dragon’s neck, and missed. Damn it.

There was nothing under my feet. I plunged. There was no time to be scared. No time for anything. I was about to die.

The air caught me. I was no longer falling, I was floating down gently. I glanced down. My father shook his head in reproach, as if I’d broken an expensive vase. Above me Curran barreled into the dragon, locking his jaws on Neig’s neck. Next to Neig, Curran looked small. The dragon kicked at Curran. His huge claws caught the lion, ripping a gash in Curran’s side. Curran snarled and tore a chunk out of Neig’s neck. They spun together, clawing and biting.

Hold on, honey. I’m coming.

Fatigue fled. Only fury remained, a hot ravenous beast inside me that had to be fed. I attacked. They fell before me like blades of grass. I cut a clear path around my father’s chariot. Blood rained on us, Neig and Curran tearing at each other. Yu Fong sprayed the field with fire so hot it melted the armor of the warriors around us.

My father dropped his protective spell. Neig’s warriors tried to rush him from the side. He moved his hand as if swatting a fly and they flew, falling at my feet. I cut them down, still spitting magic and death.

Yu Fong had fallen on his side, a pike glowing with magic thrust between his ribs. Adora burst out of the crowd and stood over him with her katana, holding the soldiers back.

My father raised his spear, a long glowing rope attached to one end.

Curran plummeted to the ground. Neig followed, jaws opened wide, ready for the kill.

My father hurled his spear. It streaked through the air, glowing with violent red, and caught Neig in the throat. The other end of the rope plunged into the ground. My father screamed a command. The rope went taut. Neig flailed on the end of it, like a harpooned fish. Roland gripped the rope. It was absurd, he was so small and Neig was gargantuan, yet my father held him.

“Kate!”

I spun around. Julie limped toward me, her hair caked with blood. Behind her, Derek in warrior form snarled, his left arm hanging from his body at an awkward angle.

“Kate!” Julie reached me and thrust a glowing ruby into my hands. I grabbed it. Magic bit at me with hot jaws. An anchor was right. The damn thing weighed fifty pounds. The weight of it threatened to yank me off my feet. The ruby pulled on me as if it were trying to suck out my soul. It wanted to go back to its realm. It required it, and if I let it, it would pull me right into it.

I thrust it into my armor, over my right hip, where I’d made an enclosure just for it.

“I have it!” I screamed. “Now! We have to do it now!”

Above me Neig let out a horrible screech.

Curran ran up next to me. Half of his body smoked, the fur gone, his skin bubbling from the heat. He rolled and launched himself at Neig. I took a running start, caught his wing, and let it carry me up with him. Neig’s scaled back loomed before me.

Second time had to be the charm, because I wouldn’t get a shot for a third.

I jumped. The air whistled by me, and then I was on Neig’s scaled back. I dashed up it, sliding forward to his head.

Curran had locked his jaws on Neig’s neck and was chewing through it. Neig flailed, trying to get his clawed foot up against Curran and rip himself free, but my father held him in place.

Neig rolled his head, trying to shake Curran off. A torrent of flames burst from his mouth. The ground yawned at me. Adora vanished in the fire.

No. No, no, no, no . . .

The flames vanished. A charred body knelt on one knee in the dirt, her katana caught in her hand. A soldier brushed by her, and she fell over on her side.

Dead. Adora was dead. Neig had killed her.

There was so much pain it was ripping me apart. I screamed and scrambled up, over Neig’s massive neck, over his horns, up onto his head and face. Two huge eyes, blazing with amber, focused on me for a fraction of a second. I raised my blood swords and plunged them into Neig’s eyes. The amber liquid splashed me, hot and magic.

The dragon howled, shaking his head, trying to knock me loose, but I clung to my blades.

“DIE!” I screamed, feeding magic into my swords. “DIE, DIE, DIE!”

Neig shrieked and tore free of my father’s restraints, shooting up into the sky. Wind tore at me. I held on to my swords, the massive body beneath me trembling and shaking. We climbed up and up and up, higher and higher toward the clouds.

“You have killed me, Daughter of Nimrod,” the dragon whispered. “But I’ll take you with me.”

We plummeted to the ground. The battlefield rushed at us at a dizzying speed.

This is it.

A dark shape surged from the ground and thrust itself under Neig—Curran trying to slow the dragon’s fall—but Neig was too heavy.

Hands grabbed my shoulders and jerked me up, ripping me and Sarrat free. Suddenly I was flying and Neig was still plunging down, my other sword still in his left eye socket. Above me Teddy Jo soared on his midnight wings.

Curran twisted clear. Neig’s enormous body hit the ground, bouncing once. The mighty dragon’s head dropped and lay still. Neig the Legend was dead.

Teddy Jo swooped down. My feet touched the grass. He let go and I rolled clear and up onto my feet.

Curran had collapsed next to the dragon. I couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive. Ice-cold fear gripped me. Around us the battle still raged.

“DAUGHTER.”

I turned. My father was looking at me from the height of his chariot, and his face was mournful. Behind him his troops stood in a wall, rows and rows of people in tactical armor.

“Don’t do it,” I told him. “Don’t, Father.”

His voice rolled through the battlefield. “Surrender, my daughter.”

He’d betrayed me. I’d known he would. I had expected it, but it hurt so much.

“Don’t,” I asked him. “Please don’t.”

“Surrender and I will let your people live.”

“How can you do this? You’re my father!”

“It’s for your own good.”

“No. It’s only for you.”

Hugh burst through the ranks. Behind him, the Iron Dogs parted Neig’s troops like they were water, and I saw Elara. She glowed with white: her dress, her skin, her hair all snow-white, one color blazing with power. She didn’t feel human.

She opened her arms. I heard a chant floating above the battlefield. The Covens were channeling their power. It hit Elara from the back and burst out of her as a beam of pure white. The beam hit my father. He gasped, spinning toward her. The magic impaled him like a spear.

His troops surged around him and fell on the Iron Dogs.

The beam intensified, so white it was hard to look at. My father staggered. His face relaxed. His eyes glazed over.

We almost had him. Almost. Just a little bit more. Sleep. Please, Dad, for the sake of all of us. Just go to sleep.

Magic surged out of him, blocking the beam.

Elara screamed.

Not enough. The witches weren’t enough.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my father straightened, his face shaking with effort, and thrust one hand against the beam.

He would win and then there was no hope for Atlanta and Conlan.

Julie sprinted between the fighting bodies, her sword raised above her head.

I felt the magic inside my father snap, blocking Elara’s beam. If Julie attacked him now, he would kill her. He would squash her like a gnat.

He would kill my kid.

I saw Julie’s arm roll back as if in slow motion, as she prepared for a jump.

If she touched my father, she would die. I had to stop her. I had to . . .

The muscles of her legs tensed, about to send her into the air.

No!

“Stop!” I snarled, sinking magic into the command.

I felt the precise moment my will crushed Julie’s. She crumbled in mid-leap and fell to the ground.

Oh no. What have I done?

Blood-red light burst out of my father. Elara stumbled back. The white beam died. He turned to me. “Did you honestly think that would stop me, foolish child?”

There were twenty yards between us and a wave of his soldiers behind him. I wouldn’t be able to get to him. They would swarm me and then he would hit me with his magic, and it would all be over. He could hold me in stasis until his troops secured me.

The ruby stirred in my armor, as if alive.

The ruby.

It was my only chance.

“SURRENDER, IN-SHINAR. TAKE YOUR PLACE.”

I love you, Curran. I love you, my son. I love you both more than anything. I love you, Julie. There is no way out.

I raised Sarrat and stabbed myself.

My father screamed.

I felt the blood rush out of me and twisted the blade. There we go. I’d cut the abdominal aorta. Death would be quick.

I dropped to my knees, pulled the ruby out of my armor, cradled it, and fell on my side. My father’s face swung into view. He was weeping.

“Why? Why?” He pulled me to him, cradling my head in his arms. “You had everything, Blossom. Why?”

His face was turning gray. His fingers shook. He cried out. I felt his magic fighting for his life, hungry, looking for any source to feed itself. I knew that hunger. It was blinding. He would grab at any magic just to keep himself alive, and I had a source of magic handy.

I opened my arms. They were too weak to restrain the anchor anyway. He saw the ruby. He reached for it.

Take it, Father. Take it and use it.

His skin was the color of crumbled concrete. If he’d had a second to think, he would’ve stopped. But he didn’t have a second. We were dying together, and my father wanted to live. It made him careless.

His fingers closed about the glowing gem. The crimson glow melted over him. He fed on the ruby, absorbing every drop, until everything that made the anchor what it was had been fused with my father.

I struggled to say something. Nimrod leaned over me.

“I win, Father.”

The anchor couldn’t exist without its realm, and it sought to return to it at all costs. My father had absorbed it. They were now one.

A void opened behind him. I only saw the edge of it, but I felt it. It grasped my father and swallowed him whole.

One moment he was there and then he was gone. And all was good.

We’d won. Conlan would live. Curran would live too, if he was still alive. I’d done it.

My blood was all over the ground. I thought it would hurt. It didn’t hurt.

My aunt grabbed at me, frantic. “Stay with me. Hugh! Get Hugh!”

“Too late,” I told her.

Erra stared at me, her eyes wild, and thrust herself at me. Pain smashed into my body, wrenching a scream from me. She was trying to feed her magic into me to keep me alive.

“No,” I whispered. I didn’t want her sacrifice, but I didn’t have the strength to fight her. She paled and vanished. Magic flooded into me in a cool rush.

It wasn’t enough. Julie was crying. Someone was holding me. The light dimmed. Darkness came.

I wish I could hold Conlan one last time.

I wish I could see Curran. To hear his voice. To hold his hand. To not be alone before I go.

I wish I had just a little bit more time. There were so many things I wanted to do. I would give anything for just one more day.

I love all of you.

DEATH WAS A mist.

I walked through it at random, not knowing where to go. It pulled on me, and I let it.

I was fading. The essence of me was fading, unraveling softly into the gray mist around me.

Let go, the mist whispered. Let it all go . . .

And then it parted. I stood on a vast plain, green grass under my feet. Golden sunlight streamed from a blue sky. In the distance, herds of wild beasts grazed, big shaggy shapes.

I felt a presence behind me and turned.

A colossal lion walked toward me across the plain. He was black, and his wings were folded over his body. His big golden eyes brimmed with magic. It glowed all around him, coating every hair of his fur. He was a god.

He reached me and lowered his head.

I raised my hand and put it on his nose. He had come to say good-bye. I would get to see him one last time.

The lion opened his mouth, showing me gleaming fangs.

“LIVE,” he said.

Silver magic erupted from him and into me.

PAIN.

AGONY TORE MY body into shreds and I screamed, writhing. There was something solid under me.

“I’ve got her,” Hugh’s voice said.

He was on top of me. I was alive.

I swung and punched him in the jaw as hard as I could. He toppled over to the side. I rolled to my feet.

Curran lay next to me on the bloody grass, human and unmoving. I crawled on my hands and knees to him and grabbed him. “Curran? Curran?”

He opened his eyes, saw me, and smiled. “Hey, ass kicker.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Yes. Very tired, too.”

“What did you do?”

“I resurrected you,” he said.

The pain blossomed in my stomach and I collapsed on his chest.

“This was the plan the whole time,” he said. “My plan and your aunt’s. Enough divine power for one miracle.”

I curled into a ball, holding on to him. If this was some sort of near-death hallucination, I would resurrect myself just so I could punch fate in the face.

“Sorry it hurt,” he said. “It’s my first time.”

I kissed his chest. He petted my hair.

“Last time, too,” he said. “I don’t have any divine power left, so let Hugh heal you, because if you die now, there is shit I can do about it and I’ll be really pissed off.”

I just held him. Slowly it was sinking in.

“I promised you this morning wouldn’t be the last time,” he told me. “I keep my promises.”

Someone else was screaming. I finally realized it wasn’t me and turned around. My aunt sprawled on the grass, shaking with seizures, naked, mad as hell, and very much alive.

“Oops,” Curran said.

I cried. I lay on his chest and cried.

I SAT ON our porch and watched Conlan play in the grass in the fading light of the evening. He pounced on lightning bugs like a big human kitten. Curran sat next to me, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. One week had passed since the battle.

With both Neig and Roland gone, their troops had scattered. We’d won, but we’d lost so much. We buried Adora’s ashes on the small hill behind our house. I’d cried at her funeral. I cried every time I thought about it.

Christopher got caught in the dragon fire, too. He didn’t die, but he lost a wing. None of us knew if it would grow back. He mourned his flight the way people mourned the death of a child. Desandra lost her beta couple. They were friends and her grief was still raw. Jim lost his sister. The witches lost Maria. The power drain had proved too much for her. Of Curran’s elites, only five remained.

Saiman never came back from the battlefield. He’d always been terrified of physical pain, but for some reason he had assumed his true form and run into the thick of the slaughter. Maybe he’d panicked, maybe he’d become enraged, maybe he’d been trying to protect someone. We would never know. They brought his body to me. He’d been pierced with four spears. I grieved. He’d left a will. He wanted to be buried in Unicorn Lane. We followed it to the letter. It was the least we could do.

Curran the God didn’t make it. None of his divine power remained. His hair no longer grew unnaturally fast, although he’d kept his added height, for how long was anybody’s guess. He’d lost the mystical awareness of us. His divinity had enabled him to know where Conlan and I were at all times, but he couldn’t preternaturally sense us anymore. He said it felt like he’d gone blind. It was a death, of sorts, but I couldn’t have been happier about it.

There was another death I didn’t mourn. Sharratum also died on that battlefield. When Curran resurrected me, I no longer felt the pull of the land. The claimings hadn’t survived my death. I was once again just me. I’d kept my power, but I was now free of Atlanta and the portion of Kings Row.

Ghastek had come to me after the slaughter. He’d seemed lost. He’d told me I would always be the In-Shinar. I told him that he was still my friend, but now he was free.

We buried friends and grieved, but slowly, little by little, Atlanta was waking up from a nightmare. The dragon was dead. Biohazard had claimed its bones, and Ghastek and Phillip had nearly come to blows with Luther over it.

Hugh and Elara both survived and returned to their castle in Kentucky. Hugh didn’t heal Dali. Jim asked her to delay it by six months. From where I stood, that just gave her six more months to work on convincing him, and my gut told me Jim would lose that fight.

Christopher and Barabas set a wedding date. Barabas made a terrible fuss over Christopher’s injuries and kept feeding him gallons of chicken soup, hoping his wing would regenerate. The Druids paraded down the streets in their furs and claimed credit for their part of the victory. Martha was seriously injured, and Mahon got to nurse her back to health. He tried to bake her honey muffins, and they were terrible. My aunt wasn’t speaking to either of us. She took her resurrection personally. Apparently, she had wanted to stay dead.

Julie wasn’t speaking to me either.

I deserved it. I went back on my word. I’d tried to talk to her, but she’d just walked away from me. I had made a promise and I’d broken it. I didn’t know if she would thaw with time. I hoped she would, but even so there was no going back from what I had done. Time would help. I hoped.

“I better do it,” I told Curran. “It’s been a week. He must’ve cooled off.”

“Give him another year,” he said.

“If a week won’t do it, a year won’t.” I set my glass of tea down. “I won’t be long.”

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I walked across the drawbridge of Neig’s castle. The place lay empty. Nobody greeted me. Nobody tried to kill me. The lack of drama was rather disappointing.

The stones shook under my feet. Oh no. Spoke too soon.

The castle yawned and swallowed me. I hurtled through it, or rather I stood still, and it spun past me until I was face-to-face with my father in the throne room. He was back to his older self. He must’ve been waiting for me to show up. He was the anchor of the realm. For all intents and purposes, he was the realm. He could never leave. And since we shared a blood bond, I could come and see him whenever I wanted. Conlan, Julie, Hugh, all of us who had the benefit of his blood, could call on it at any time and waltz in and out of his realm as we pleased. It had to be killing him. I did my best not to laugh, but it was really hard.

“You lived,” he said.

“My husband resurrected me,” I told him. “He gave up his godhood for me. He resurrected Aunt Erra, too. She sacrificed herself to keep me alive, and apparently, we were in the same body just long enough for the two of us to get hit with the same resurrection wallop. She’s rather upset about it.”

“You banished me,” he said. Fury shivered in his voice.

“It’s not banishment.”

“Then what is it?”

“Retirement, Father. You’ve had lifetimes. I’m on my first one, and if you had it your way, I wouldn’t even get that. It’s a very nice castle. The library is to die for. Think of all the things you can do with this place.”

“The world needs me. I will save it. I will make it better.”

I sighed. “I love you, Father. I’ll bring Conlan by when he is older.”

“Kate,” he said. “I will find a way out.”

“Possibly. If anyone can, it’s you. But it will take you a long time. Meanwhile, we will have peace. It’s what you always wanted, isn’t it? Peaceful idyllic existence, free of the ever-present doom?”

“This isn’t over,” he said.

“Yes, it is, Father. And should you ever find your way back, I’ll be waiting.”

I closed my eyes and leaned against Curran.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“About as well as could be expected. He’s furious. He’s also easily bored, and within Neig’s realm, he has ultimate power at his disposal. The next time I visit, the place will likely resemble the Water Gardens. I think Conlan will enjoy playing there when he is a little older.”

I kissed my husband. We sat together on the porch and watched our son play with fireflies.

“We should have another one,” Curran said.

I smiled at him. “Maybe.”

“Don’t you want a little girl?”

“I do. Once Conlan grows up a little. We have time now, right?”

Curran grinned at me. “All the time in the world.”