“Elizabeth, really,” Jasyn chimes in. You would never know he almost shed a tear moments before. “It is best for you to relent and allow the inevitable to take place.”
Elizabeth? I blink. Realization weighs heavy. El knows this is her grandfather, the future vessel of the Void, if he isn’t already. She’s given him another name. “What year is it?”
The Jasyn Crowe look-alike who cannot possibly be who I think he is replies, “What an odd question to proffer during such a time as this.”
Struggling against my captors, I say, “Answer me.”
“It’s 1945.”
The wormhole transported El to 1945? Then the Rose dew brought us here as well? How do we return?
“I said leave me the Void alone!”
We’ll have to figure that out later. For now, all my efforts must be poured into this, the here and now. Or then, it seems.
El’s voice grows weaker with each demand.
The guards act less confused, overcoming the small bit of Amulet left in her words. She’s not even singing, just shouting until the sound fades to a dull hum.
“She’s losing it again,” Ky calls. “Her voice. This has happened before. We have to do something.” He relays all this while continuing to ride his guard like a bronco.
The anger shrouding the girl I know is like nothing I have ever witnessed. Oh yes, I have seen her angry, but not like this. This is different. This has Shadowalker blueprinted all over it.
The people look on, raising their masks or adjusting their spectacles as if watching staged combat. They’re worse than Soulless. Crowe’s army was held against their will by his Void injections, but these men and women? They are choosing to stand back and do nothing.
“Is it fear of your queen that keeps you in place? Are you all so twisted you will not help innocents?” I’m able to free one arm from the man on my right. He yanks it back, causing pain to rip through me. I bite my tongue, refusing to let him in on my weakness. “I saw it in each of your eyes. You must know your queen is not for you. Any ruler who chooses suffering over saving is no ruler at all.”
The only response I receive to my reprimand comes in stares, ogles, and select guilty frowns.
I draw a deep breath, search the room for my cohorts. They’ve waited in the wings until now. Perhaps they still see me as king, loyal to the end. I grow an inch at the notion. If these brainwashed citizens will not help us, so be it. Dahlia’s nowhere in sight, but no matter. When I lock eyes with the Preacher, his gaze transfers. I follow it to Wren, who stands fifty feet to his right. She catches his stare, then touches two fingers to her brow and tucks her hair behind one ear.
Anyone else might witness the natural ticks and assume she’s just being a girl. But I know better. This is the Silent Code of the Guardians.
These men aren’t going to know what hit them. The countdown commences, and I cease my struggle. Ten, nine, eight . . .
Wren walks backward through the throng, pivots, and runs.
Preacher sidesteps, left, left, left. He’s almost to the stairs we descended not twenty minutes ago.
Both are in position now. Our numbers are few, but together we’re strong. I clear my throat and shout, “To the crown until death!”
“To the crown until death!” Preacher and Wren cry in unison.
With more skill than I’ve ever seen him use, Preacher chucks his battle-ax straight toward the glass roof. The execution is flawless. Time to duck.
I’m released a second after the roof shatters. It doesn’t take much to charge past the burly guard, snatch El, and lug her beneath an archway. “Stay here.”
I leave her, then go for my brother. The glass storm has sent everyone to their knees, hands and arms covering their heads. Those in cages have more protection than the rest. But the fight between Ky and Isabeau’s guard of the year goes on.
I launch myself over a man curled into a kneeling ball. Then I grab the staff the burly one dropped and use a sweeping motion to bring the final guard to his knees.
My brother is relieved.
“Thanks,” he says.
“You’re welcome.”
But the fight isn’t over.
With the roof in pieces across the vast room, it’s time for Wren to make her move. She’s disappeared from view, but I don’t have to see her to know what’s coming.
“Watch.” My brother receives an elbow to his rib cage. I jerk my chin toward the dark clouds swirling above the open ceiling. “Five, four, three, two . . .”
A screech-like roar that could rival the Lioness version of Isabeau sounds.
“One.”
Wren in griffin form swoops down through the roof’s opening. She soars low over the people.
They scream, bowing as close to the floor as is physically possible.
Cawing and clawing, Wren uses all her best moves. When she lands on top of a cage, her front talons clacking against iron, the people of Oz lie officially spooked. No one rises. In fact, we’re the only ones still standing.
Aside from Isabeau.
“Joshua!” My name on El’s lips doesn’t sound like her at all. She runs for me.
But that’s when guard after guard closes in, some piling in through the double doors where Isabeau entered and others marching down the stairs. They create a barrier between us and the Verity’s vessel.
There’s no way out on this one. We are completely trapped.
“Did you believe it would be easy to defeat me with a few stunts and circus tricks?” The immortal who seems to be the source of all our troubles glides to where we stand. She steps on the broken glass as if it’s ice. She acts as if we didn’t just crash her party and destroy the place. “This day was set in stone long before you were born, gentlemen.”
“What day?” Ky clenches and unclenches his fists, then rubs the back of his neck. The pain the Void causes is obvious. With each moment that El forgets her love for him, the greater the Void’s hold on his soul becomes. If we wait much longer, it will consume him as it did Jasyn.
Guilt and remorse devour me, blacking out my vision for a breath. When my sight returns, I resolve to make the switch. She can’t fight without her Mirror, and she can’t spark her Mirror without him.
It will kill me to do so, but my brother and El must be reconnected. And I am the only one who can do it.
“Mirrorglass reverses, my boy.”
Rafaj’s words return to me, guiding me along the path I swore I’d never choose. Along that path that will mend her heart.
“Is there a way to undo this?” I asked.
“Oh”—he rubbed his hands together—“is there not always a way?”
“Tell me.” The break was meant to be permanent. I couldn’t take any chances Kyaphus might discover a loophole.
“What else?” Rafaj said. “Mirrorglass. It reverses. The severing of two souls is not immediate. The break will not be complete in the same moment the tear touches her tongue.”
“How long?” I worked my jaw. My grandfather was a cryptic one. I didn’t know the details behind his imprisonment, but I could wager his irritating personality had something to do with his chains.
“Depends on the strength of their bond, my boy. A few days, a year.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“Until her hatred for him subsides. There is a fine line between love and hate. When she no longer feels anything toward him, anger included, that is when the Elixir will have done its deed. That is when she will at last be able to let him go.”