They had been fighting for hours, days, weeks, months, but suddenly the two of them stood at the end of the hall leading to the Imperial quarters. The once beautiful golden doors hung at odd angles, completely encased in giant spears of crystal. This was where Victor had chosen to make his stand.
They both paused, catching their breath, staring at the magic that was tangible in the air. It was the last barrier between them and their impossible dream. But it was a barrier of a power far beyond explanation and the madman who harnessed it.
“I’m not going to insult you and tell you to turn back,” she said, wishing her voice sounded a little stronger.
“Then I will do the same.” Aldrik turned to her, and she looked at him. It was a sliver of quiet before the storm. “I’m not going to say goodbye.”
“Then I will do the same,” she parroted in turn.
Vhalla turned, and Aldrik caught her arm. He didn’t have the strength he usually commanded when drawing her close, and Vhalla didn’t quite leap toward him as she usually did, but their desperate kiss still held weight. It didn’t feel like her first kiss; it was greater than that, more refined, heavier with all the words they couldn’t say. Her lips tingled for that brief second, and Vhalla wondered if they’d both lied, if that had been goodbye.
The Emperor and Empress started down the hall that spelled certain doom, intent on reclaiming their home.
Vhalla unfurled the taut control she’d held over Victor’s magic inside her. She slowly let it seep unhindered into her one final time. Sparks glittered on her fingers as she cleared a path through the crystal barricade to the central atrium of the Imperial quarters.
Victor sat bare-chested upon a throne of crystal. Stones embedded in his flesh pulsed in time with the crystals around him, their magic radiating outward. Victor had been right all along—the Crystal Caverns did, indeed, have a heart, and instead of killing it with the axe, he had claimed it and traded it for his own.
In a slightly different light, the crown shone weakly on his head. Her magic was dwindling from it slowly—perhaps another explanation for his weakening control over her—and that meant the taint was fighting more forcefully for his body.
They didn’t come armed with anything other than their magic; they held no crystal weapons to aide them, but Vhalla knew this was their best chance to destroy the heart of the Crystal Caverns once and for all—while it was attached to flesh. Victor slowly raised his head from where his chin had fallen onto his chest, flashing a wild smile.
“Look who it is . . .” he rasped, his voice like stones grating together. “The prodigal Emperor and Empress, returning to reclaim their home. You’ve created quite the stir.”
Aldrik was blank, impassive, immune to the taunts. Vhalla tried to follow his example.
“If you want power, come to me,” he cooed. “You’ve had a taste, you little leech. Come to me and have it all.”
Vhalla’s shoulders quivered, and a muffled huffing noise escaped before she could contain it. The next thing she knew she had thrown her head back in laughter. He had no principles or morals; it shouldn’t be surprising that even now the man had no shame.
“Oh, Victor.” Vhalla shook her head. “You underestimate just how much I need you to die!”
The gust of wind was among the strongest she’d ever produced, and Vhalla didn’t even lift a finger to create it—Victor had no time to brace himself. He was slammed back into the crystals behind him, his head snapping against their smooth surface. Vhalla knew better than to think that would be all it took.
Victor leapt up before she had time to summon her magic for a second attack. Aldrik was ready, however, and fire blazed through the air. Vhalla watched as he winced, his fire flashing in color briefly as he drew from the magic of the crystals to level the playing field between him and the other two combatants.
The crystals on Victor’s chest shone, and the fire moved over his skin harmlessly, as though repelled. Vhalla and Aldrik split, dodging in different directions as Victor launched into his first attack. They scrambled to their feet as the room tried to eat them whole. Gurgling and groaning, the walls shuddered to life. Thick layers of crystal rippled and rolled like waves at Victor’s will. Vhalla turned, holding out a hand and deflecting a sharp crystal point with her fingers. But these stones held a deeper connection with the madman than any prior, and she couldn’t control it for long.
Aldrik grunted, and Victor’s laugh followed, drawing her attention from her own struggle. Her head whipped around, hair sticking to her sweaty cheeks as she saw him, armor caught on a glowing crystal point. Aldrik grit his teeth, clearly not wanting to grant Victor the satisfaction, but it was a battle he was losing.
With a scream of her husband’s name, Vhalla cast aside instinct for self-preservation and swung at Victor from a distance. One of the crystals upon his chest exploded with a satisfying pop and spray of dark blood. The man gave a welcome cry of agony.
Aldrik heard her unsaid words and pushed out his magic. A blaze encompassed Victor, drawing another satisfying scream. He backed off Aldrik, letting the Emperor free himself from the crystal point that had been trying to penetrate his plate.
Free of the flame, Victor moved. A short sword appeared in his palm, a sword made of ice so white it almost shone like metal. Vhalla tried to catch her breath, crossing over to the two men fighting, but Aldrik was closer to their enemy.
Fire burned brightly around Aldrik’s body, keeping the edge off Victor’s icy blade, but that was about all he could do. With crystal magic sustaining the sword against Aldrik’s flames, the two men danced in fire and ice. Every move Aldrik made was toward Victor’s face, and Victor moved to jab a spear of ice between Aldrik’s plate. They had fought before. Each knew the other’s tricks and favorite methods, resulting in a stalemate.
Vhalla shattered the even-footing with a kick to Victor’s face. She’d been trying to throw the crown off his brow, but it was embedded into his body as much as the other crystals. Victor reeled, but Aldrik was forgotten as the false king spun and grabbed her, throwing her into the wall.
She gasped in both pain and surprise as a crystal jabbed the side of her head; a little lower and it would’ve taken off her ear. The crystal’s magic overwhelmed her. It felt like it was trying to eat her whole.
Victor used the moment to turn back to Aldrik, gathering his strength. Dark veins pulsed outward from the crystals embedded into his skin. Pure magic zapped from his fingers straight into Aldrik’s chest, sending the Emperor flying.
Vhalla screamed. She had to keep moving, she had to fight. Her fingers closed tightly around a crystal point at her side. It seared beneath her fingers, as though it had its own consciousness and was rejecting her. Vhalla forced every ounce of her mental strength to command it to bend to her will. It resisted, but bend it did.
Hearing her footsteps nearing, Victor turned his attention from Aldrik. His sword of ice held up against her sword of crystal. Vhalla panted, and he bared his teeth at her.
Daniel. Her friend, he’d been brought into her life for a reason, and that reason had not been to be her lover. Vhalla’s feet moved as he taught. They were light, as though she was still back in that tiny clearing between the houses he had made into his little patch of East. Vhalla parried, reposed, spun the weapon, and twirled with the wind.
Victor had never had the luxury of learning the sword from one of the greatest swordsmen alive—if the Golden Guard status meant anything—and it lived on in her training. Vhalla saw an opening and took it. The crystal sword embedded into his jaw, taking out a chunk.