Six of Ruin (Heirs of Irenwell #1)
Chapter 52: The Witch of Irenwell

Everything around us cracked; stone, tension, panic. Fire still spread through the palace, devouring everything inflammable. Smoke whooshed around us, seeking air to pollute. Rixen hit the wall with his fists, his face twisted into sheer pain.

“I’m going to kill him!” He shouted. “I’m going to fucking kill him myself!”

“No, you’re not!” Danilo still held Rixen’s shoulders, preventing him from doing something stupid and reckless. The shadowman crumbled on the ground, his shoulders slumping, his posture relaxing.

“Is he dead?” Nickeltinker examined Ace while Frank licked the mage’s face, trying to wake him up. “He looks dead! We’re all going to die if he’s dead!”

“He’s not dead.” I wiped away the fresh tears falling over the dry ones. “But he’s weak.”

Nickeltinker slapped the mage.

“What the fuck are we going to do now?” Danilo asked when Rixen finally gave up on trying to fight Soterios alone.

Despite feeling and understanding his pain, now was not the time to lose it.

“Where is he?” I stared at the square, which was now eerily empty, even the cultists’ bodies were gone. “I don’t like this, I don’t like this at all.”

Nickeltinker slapped Ace again.

“We need to get out of here.” Danilo walked through the great hall, searching for weapons, but all he managed to replace was cutlery. “I don’t have a sword. I’ve nothing.”

“There’s Irina’s sword.” Rixen rose from the ground, his breathing heavy. “If the fire didn’t eat it.”

Danilo walked over to the warthog, who was still licking Ace’s face, and dug through our stuff. My mother’s sword was still intact, but Danilo frowned.

“That’s a knife, not a sword.”

“Oh, shut up.” I grunted.

Nick punched Ace in the face, and finally, the mage’s eyes fluttered open.

“What- what happened?”

“You collapsed, Torvald died and Soterios disappeared.” I sighed, there was no time to process the pain, the guilt, the regret. There was no time to breathe or think.

“Alright.” Ace managed to sit, his face twisting with pain. “Back to work.” He put his palms back on the ground.

“Are you sure you can do this?” I chewed on my lower lip, my glance escaping to the empty square in front.

I knew Soterios didn’t just give up and go home. He was planning something.

“No.” Ace winced. “But we have no other choice.”

“We can run.” Danilo suggested. “There must be a way through the basement, to the forest.”

“There’s seven floors of basement.” Ace breathed heavily. “Soterios is going to catch us in the middle and burn us alive.”

“Alright, let’s get to work.” Rixen pushed himself off the wall, “We have to barricade the door with something that doesn’t burn easily.”

“This guy melted marble.” Nick shook his head. “Nothing’s going to stop him.”

“I have to cut the peninsula in half.” Ace stretched his fingers and braced himself. “The palace is going to stay in place because it’s built into the mountain, but the rest of Orathia is going to sink, which means we cannot let Soterios step foot into the palace.”

“Easier said than done.” Nickeltinker’s hands shook as he counted the darts and daggers and vials he had left.

Frank helped Danilo drag broken stone plates and use them to block the gates. Rixen went through our stuff, looking for weapons. All we had now were the shovels and rakes we stole from the ruined villages near the city.

I brought Ace some water and kneeled next to him, “Can you do this?”

The mage’s dimmed green eyes glanced up, “My magic is weak, locking Ir-kaal drained me.”

“But you’re not just any mage.” I told him. “You’re the High Mage of Naz.”

“It’s been centuries since that meant anything.” He whispered.

“This is a shitty castle.” Nickeltinker murmured and stepped away from the gates. “This would have never happened in Shira.”

“What? You would have thrown mud at Soterios, floran?” Ace snickered, his thin, pale lips cracking.

“Hey, it rains every hour back home.” Nick said. “His fire would be useless.”

“Why couldn’t he be a water mage?” I sighed.

“Water mages are pricks.” Ace said. “All they do is create water on your knees and call it magic.”

“Alright.” Danilo cut our conversation. “In your positions, everyone! Let’s make sure this fucker doesn’t step foot into this palace.”

Ace put his palms on the floor, Rixen and Danilo grabbed the shovels and rakes, Nickeltinker stood on the stone blocks blocking the entrance, Frank lingered behind, his hooves scraping the floor. And I retreated deeper into the great hall.

Silence ruled, interrupted only by an occasional sigh or wince. Anticipation built up in the air. I breathed in the smoke, not caring about the pang in my lungs.

Ace began to chant; his words caused shaking somewhere in the depths of the earth. Darkness fell upon the palace, the sun disappeared behind the thick, black smoke. A sultry, moist feel of magic spread through the great hall, different than usual.

“Why do I feel like we’ve built ourselves a tomb?” Rixen muttered.

Nickeltinker’s eyes widened as he peered over the stone at the square, “He’s here.”

Despite the shaking of the ground and the overwhelming fear, I moved closer and glanced at the square. Soterios reappeared amidst the smoke, more cultists at his heel, but something was different about them now. Their wounds were still there; the cuts, the bruises, the burns, but they moved like they felt no pain.

Danilo held his shovel tightly, his knuckles turning white, “What’s wrong with them?”

Ace’s painful laughter scattered our silence, “He bears the Gifts of Erenna. He can temporarily raise the dead.”

“You have to be fucking joking.” Rixen let out a low, humourless laugh.

Ace said nothing else. His eyes rolled back into his head, words falling off his lips. The ground around us began to quake, Soterios’s dead cultists slipped and fell on their way over the impromptu moat. Rixen and Danilo braced themselves, sweat dripping down the back of their necks. Heat rose in the palace, unwavering and merciless.

Ace’s hands shook on the ground, his words turned to shushed grunts. Deep thudding sound filled the room, silencing our heartbeats. I moved closer to the door and peered outside. The steps in front of the palace cracked, a deep line spreading around the palace. The earth itself moved at Ace’s command.

Cultists jumped over the cracks, reaching the door. I jumped back while Rixen and Danilo hit the dead beings with their shovels. Nickeltinker threw stuff at them; pieces of stone, cutlery, and even chunks of gold he’s collected along the way.

“You should give up now, Ace!” Soterios shouted, his voice louder than the thudding of the earth. “You’re weak and I can sense it! My intention isn’t to kill you, I have no quarrel with you, I simply want Ir-kaal to remain open!”

My gaze fell on our mage; his entire body was awash with paleness and death, his hands and legs shook, his eyes were rolled back, and the words falling off his lips a mere whisper. The shaking of the ground gradually eased. He couldn’t do it.

Rixen and Danilo fought the cultists, their shovels and rakes on the ground, burning bright red, sizzling with heat. Nickeltinker ran out of stuff to throw, he was now pushing the cultists off the gates with his hands, avoiding their attacks as well as he could.

Ace needed help, desperately. But he’s already used up his magic trying to lock Ir-kaal. He wouldn’t have even managed that if he hadn’t used my-

You touched me and shared the burden of the spell.

This was it.

This was my decision. Goodbye crowns, thrones and handsome knights. Goodbye normal life.

“Ace!” I shouted and kneeled next to the mage. “Use me!”

The mage did not respond, his body convulsed, foam coated the corners of his lips.

Fuck.

I closed my eyes, breathed in and grabbed Ace’s clammy forearm.

Sounds ceased, smoke disappeared, red and yellow and white dots danced in front of my eyes. The unbearable silence overwhelmed my mind. Cold ran down my spine and across my skin. And when I finally opened my eyes, I wasn’t in the palace anymore.

Grey and misty vastness appeared in front of me, spreading as far as the eye could see. Dry, dead trees rose from the black ground. The pale, milky colour covered the skies. A deep, visceral cold spread through the unknown land.

The sky and the foggy land connected at the horizon, there were no mountains, no hills, no seas. Whatever this place was, it was empty, abandoned, lonely.

I shivered, hugged myself and turned around. Nothing but an occasional tree and never-ending fog.

“Hello.”

My heart skipped a beat, I jumped up and turned around. My wide eyes took in a little girl, with sky-blue eyes, blonde locks cupping her face, and pale skin. She had a white lacy dress on and a stuffed rabbit in her small hands.

“Hello.” Primal fear iced my veins.

“What is your name?” The girl tilted her head; her blue eyes, far deeper and wiser than they should be, observed me.

I swallowed the crippling fear, “Irina. What is your name?”

“Aila.” The girl’s plump lips spread into a smile, but it did not reach her eyes. “Will you keep the bad wizard out of my home?”

“What is home?” I asked.

Black spots covered my vision and the image of the little girl blackened until there was once more nothing but darkness. The cold gave place to the palace’s familiar heat, smoke assaulted my nostrils and my lungs, and Ace’s sharp nails dug into my forearm.

I opened my eyes; everything around me moved, chunks of the ceiling fell off, breaking against the floor, cracks spread across the ground, devouring blocks of land, Rixen and Danilo held onto each other, their bodies sliding left and right, Nickeltinker held the warthog, and Ace held me, words still falling off his lips.

Magic devoured the place; shadows danced in every corner, dark beings reached from another plane into ours, seduced by power, and magic and death. A clammy, cold feeling ran through my blood, as Ace drained my magic bit by bit.

Painful screams escaped my lips, my teeth ground against each other. Shouts and screams spread through the air. I couldn’t lift my head to look out. My nails dug into the dirt on the ground, breaking and cracking as I tried to hold myself in place.

The cultists outside roared. I even heard Soterios’s voice, shouting something incomprehensible, cursing in a foreign tongue. The fire devoured the palace, burning through the furniture, falling curtains, dusty carpets.

“To the throne!” Rixen shouted, barely standing, and pulled Danilo to his feet.

Both of them stumbled deeper into the great hall as the entire palace leaned in, pieces of the floor falling off. The gates of Orathian palace disappeared; the entire wall disappeared.

I pulled myself to my feet and dragged Ace with me. We ran up, avoiding the sliding, burning furniture and chunks of stone.

Nickeltinker grabbed the long curtain and flung it towards us, “Hold onto this!”

I spread out my hand; the silken fabric almost slipping out of my sweaty palms. Ace’s nails drew blood on my forearm, but I pulled him with me. Slowly, we made our way to the throne, where Rixen and Danilo waited, ready to catch us. Frank buried his hooves in the ground and stood in front of us, keeping us from sliding off.

And finally, I looked up.

The city of Orathia sank into the ocean; houses collapsed and disappeared, chunks of land broke off and crashed against the rocks, marble columns broke into pieces, the cultists held onto the tree roots peeking out of the remaining land, but were soon dragged into the ocean when those pieces of land broke down. Soterios was nowhere in sight.

The palace broke in half. One part of the fort collapsed onto itself, disappearing in the deep, dark hole in the ground, the broken doors and tables and chairs flew into the rocks, the Vanishing Well, the golden pieces, relics, and books disappeared into the ocean. This was no longer the work of magic, this was nature.

We held onto the sturdy throne and each other as the ground’s shaking ceased.

We stayed put long after the ground calmed down, long after the last rock slid into the ocean, and simply stared at the newly-formed island now separated from the mountain. The smoke cleared, revealing the clear, blue sky, and the sun once again shone over us. The Orathian peninsula was gone, the city of Orathia ruined, and the palace... the palace was cut in half, and we stood at the edge.

“Goddamn.” Nickeltinker was the first to speak. “Now I get to add ‘ruined a thousand-year-old-kingdom’ to my biography.”

“Shit.” Danilo cursed and slid to the ground, his back against the wall. “Do you think Soterios is dead?”

“I didn’t even see him after the palace leaned in.” Rixen murmured. “But I’m going to assume he didn’t survive this.”

“How...?” Danilo looked at Ace and me, “How did you do this? You were weak.”

I let out a scattered breath, “That was me. He used my magic.”

“Oh.”

“Can we call the dragon now?” Nick asked. “I want to go home.”

“Yes,” I nodded, “I think it’s time to go home.”

Ace looked at us, put his hands on his hips and grinned, “I don’t know about you, but this was the most fun I’ve had in centuries.”