The Domina: Ascension, #5

By K.A. Linde

The unforgettable conclusion to the epic fantasy Ascension series that New York Times bestselling author Susan Dennard called "perfect for fans of Sarah J Maas."

 

The fate of the world rests on one girl's shoulders.

 

And her world has been turned upside down.

 

With Cyrene's allies in shambles after a bitter defeat, she has to find a way to bring them back together to stop the dark goddess. But with a war raging and the newly-united magical community barely held together, Cyrene's leadership has been called into question.

 

As fate pulls them all toward that prophetic final battle, she has to find the true meaning behind her magic…and within herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.A. Linde
• Release date: Oct 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9798223038665

K.A. Linde

K.A. Linde, a USA Today bestselling author, has written the Avoiding series and the Record series as well as the new adult novels Following Me and Take Me for Granted. She grew up as a military brat traveling the United States and Australia. While studying political science and philosophy at the University of Georgia, she founded the Georgia Dance Team, which she still coaches. Post-graduation, she served as the campus campaign director for the 2012 presidential campaign at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. An avid traveler, reader, and bargain hunter, K.A. lives in Athens, Georgia, with her fiancé and two puppies, Riker and Lucy.

Book preview

MAP OF EMPORIA

1

THE CREATOR

Cyrene stalked from the war tent.

Her magic was a living, breathing fire within her. It took all of her self-control to rein it in and not unleash it upon the figureheads who called themselves rulers. The sheer incompetence of bickering after what had just happened. Not that she had told them everything. The truth was still yet to be known, even to her.

She had spent all day and half of the night listening to them squabble over their loss. While the person who could truly explain it sat under guard within Cyrene’s own tent.

Her throat closed up at the thought. Perhaps she had stayed so long in the war tent, debating their next move, because, though it was tiresome, it was preferable to what she would find waiting for her.

And what she wouldn’t find.

Mikel—slain to protect the love that had only just returned to him.

Ahlvie—stolen by a dark goddess.

Avoca—decimated by his capture.

And another who was a lie.

Vera…or Benetta…or Benny. The woman Cyrene had put her trust in, trained with, walked across the world with her as a companion. Only to find out she wasn’t what she’d seemed. Not a Master Doma. Not a dragon-bound Society member. Not even…her friend. Not by a long shot.

She was the Creator. Creator!

The mother of all Doma. A goddess in her own right. And had been in hiding for two centuries. Maybe longer. She had fooled everyone. Even Cyrene.

Cyrene stopped before the tent flap and rested her palm on the hilt of Shadowbreaker, the Tendrille metal singing to her. She didn’t need to walk in there with her temper flaring. She needed to remain calm, get the information that they needed to win this war. That was all that mattered now.

She took a deep breath and let her excess magic drain into the honeycomb center of the red ruby in the hilt of her sword. A sword forged from the metal of the gods and immune to magic. A powerful weapon that had done next to nothing against the Destroyer, the dark goddess, Malysa.

Vera—Benny’s—sister.

Her anger rose up again, and she tamped it down. Vera had deceived Cyrene. And now, Malysa had taken control of her generals and was hell-bent on destroying the world once and for all. Cyrene could face Vera’s deception and Avoca’s sorrow and Orden’s disappointment if it meant fulfilling her destiny. She could.

She swallowed, released her energy, and stepped into the tent.

It was exactly how she had left them all those hours earlier. Vera was tied to a chair at the center of the room. Avoca was lying back on the cot, staring up at the ceiling, unseeing. The ice-white blade she normally carried was discarded nearby. Orden was reading out of a small notebook and glanced up at Cyrene’s entrance.

What was decided? he asked, setting the notebook aside.

Nothing, Cyrene said on a sigh. Half of them want to push forward into Aurum and claim it. The other half want to march on Byern and claim it. Malysa is a secondary concern when land can be captured.

As expected then, Orden said.

Cyrene nodded tightly. Half of them are still adjusting to the revelation that magic even exists. There’s a clear divide between Gwynora and the Network and the Eleysian generals who seem to think they have the advantage because they have the numbers.

And Brigette? Orden asked. Did she call for your head?

Cyrene scowled. Brigette was a problem. Though, technically, she wasn’t the queen of Eleysia at the moment, she had much sway. She had been the queen after her parents were murdered, but when the capital city was destroyed by Byern—thanks to Kael Dremylon—they had called a vote of no confidence. She was in the midst of a Queen’s War to reclaim her title. And she clearly thought blaming Cyrene for her parents’ deaths and throwing her weight against Cyrene would help her regain her throne.

I’ll take that as a yes.

I’ll handle it. She slid her steely-blue gaze to where Vera sat. She hadn’t said a word since Cyrene entered, but she was watching. What’s Malysa’s next move?

I don’t know, Vera said softly but not weakly.

You have deceived me, Vera. Benny. Whatever I should call you, she spat the words out.

Vera turned her palms up in surrender. Vera. I am Vera now. Benetta no longer exists.

Fine, Cyrene said with a shake of her head.

I will tell you everything you wish to know, Cyrene. You can trust me.

We’ll see about that.

I know that I have lost your trust, but I have never done anything to harm you. I even trained you.

Cyrene dismissively waved her hand. You did it to put me on the path of the prophecy. You wanted me to defeat your sister. You had ulterior motives.

That does not mean that I don’t care for you.

Can you help us defeat her? Orden asked, standing to his considerable height and doffing his characteristic floppy hat.

I can give you all the information that I have, but I do not personally have the magic capable of containing her again. When I tried to stop her last time, it took every ounce of my ability. Something was severed. I no longer have full access to my magic, as you have seen in the time that we have been together.

Great, Cyrene said sarcastically.

Vera frowned. But I will give the last of my magic so that you can see our story.

Cyrene raised an eyebrow. What does that mean?

I want to tell you the story of the two goddesses, but I think it would be better for you to witness it firsthand. Then, you can be clear that I am not lying.

See…your story. How?

On the spiritual plane.

But you can’t access spirit magic.

No, Vera agreed. I used to be able to. It was part of the reason that I am now dragon bound to Ameerath. I thought that a dragon would allow me better access to spirit magic. To keep an eye on my sister. But it saps my energy, as if it were feeding on my very soul. She frowned and glanced down at her hands. I can do it once more for you, but that will be all I have.

Cyrene understood then the sacrifice that Vera was suggesting. Not just that this spirit magic would drain her…but it would also tap her magic. She would be bereft of it. A sacrifice.

Orden must have come to the same conclusion. But what if we need your magic again? What if we need your help against the Destroyer?

She can’t, Cyrene answered for her. She saw it on Vera’s broken face. If she could have been any help, she would have already done it.

Vera nodded, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Raw emotion displayed before Cyrene. Please let me do this one last thing.

We’ll vote, she said. Her gaze shifted to Orden. You?

He narrowed his eyes at Vera, as if trying to discover her subterfuge. I don’t like it. But we need the information.

Cyrene turned to Avoca. She hadn’t moved. She was still staring, empty-faced, at the ceiling. Avoca? What is your vote?

Avoca didn’t respond.

Avoca? she repeated.

Finally, Avoca blinked once. Do whatever you want, Cyrene.

Cyrene frowned and met Orden’s worried look. Avoca had taken Ahlvie’s disappearance with Malysa worse than Cyrene had expected. They’d had a secret wedding before they left Kinkadia, and now, her husband had been forced into Indres form and captured by the goddess of destruction. Cyrene could hardly blame her for being upset, but she hated that her fierce warrior friend was falling apart and not rising to the occasion.

It’s settled then, Cyrene said after a moment. I’m going to release you from the bonds. If you attempt to flee…

I wouldn’t cross you, Vera said at once. I just lost my sister and my brother-in-law in one fell swoop. We still have to bury Mikel. She swallowed around the pain. I’m not going anywhere. This is where I belong.

Cyrene took a deep breath and then nodded. Orden untied the knots that held Vera in place. She rubbed her raw wrists and then shook out her ankles.

Let’s do this, Cyrene said.

Perhaps you should sleep for a bit, Vera said. Replenish your well.

You’re not my teacher anymore. Cyrene did need to sleep. She was bone-weary. But she didn’t have time to rest. Not with this war while they stood on a killing field.

Cyrene gripped Vera by the arm and marched her out of the tent. They walked out of the camp, past the guard on watch, and out into the open field. She reached out for the bond that called her dragon, Sarielle, and breathed a sigh of relief to feel her nearby.

My dragon bound, it is good to hear from you. Much has passed. Akeera has gone to the dark goddess. Shall we hunt them for their insults to our honor?

Cyrene smiled at Sarielle’s enthusiasm. Her greatest wish was for adventure. They had known that the other could bring that the second they laid eyes on each other. Part of her wished that she could do just as Sarielle had suggested and run off to take down Malysa on her own. But she knew, after what she’d seen on the battlefield and the way she had stalked Cyrene’s dreams, it was going to take more than that to win.

Come down. We must link and enter the spiritual plane.

As you wish.

A few minutes later, both Sarielle’s and Vera’s dragon, Ameerath, appeared before them. Sarielle’s dark red scales shone bright from the light of the full moon. Her neck proud as she tucked her wings in tight. Ameerath seemed warier, as if she knew what was to come.

It’s okay, Ameerath, Vera said. I have requested this.

Cyrene of the Doma, this is ill-advised. I do not wish harm to my dragon bound. She has already lost much, and though she did not share her true identity with you, her heart has shown true through your entire encounters. Your anger is warranted but not your doubt of her character.

Thank you, Ameerath, Cyrene said with a small curtsy to the ancient dragon. I appreciate your insight. If there is another way to go about this, then present it now.

No one spoke. Neither of the dragons came to a conclusion. Vera clearly knew it for what it was. She smiled sadly at her dragon and patted her flank.

Vera held her hand out to Cyrene, who stared at it as if it were a trap. Then, with trepidation, she put her hand in Vera’s, and together, they opened the door to the spiritual plane.

2

THE SISTERS

Sarielle held tight to the bond with Cyrene. I will be here for you when you cross the divide. You are never alone.

I know, Cyrene told her. Thank you.

Vera flickered into appearance next to Cyrene. Her form wavered and tilted as if she was having difficulty accessing the full breadth of her abilities. Perhaps everything that Vera had said so far really was true.

We should hurry across the divide. I do not know how long I can hold this up. Malysa was always stronger than me in spirit, and I do not want her to sense my presence.

This had better not be a trick.

Vera looked panicked at the thought. She has been shielding herself from me for months. I hope to do the same, Cyrene. But we need to cross now.

Cyrene reached forward and touched the space in front of her that felt more like a fluid wall. Her hand pushed against it, and then she stepped through into emptiness.

Control in the spiritual plane was up to whoever was strongest. For a long time, that had been the ancient Domina Serafina, who was Cyrene’s ancestor and also one of the reasons that all of this was happening.

For so long, Cyrene had believed that Serafina was a wicked ruler of her home of Byern and Viktor Dremylon had triumphed over her to restore order. When in fact Sera had loved Viktor, and they had torn the world down together. With Malysa’s help, Sera had discovered how to access blood magic so that she and Viktor could be bound. A binding to the Dremylon line that Cyrene was still cursed with. Kael Dremylon, now one of Malysa’s generals, was bent on destroying the world. And, worse yet, Serafina had worked with Viktor to bring down the fall of magic two thousand years prior. She’d thought he wanted equality, but with Malysa’s influence, it had ended in disaster. Cyrene was still upset with her for withholding that final truth. But she had more important things to deal with right now.

Like using the spiritual magic that Serafina had taught her over the last year to create solid ground for them. She concentrated on her surroundings, and suddenly, she was back in Byern, standing before the Nit Decus castle.

Home.

And yet, no longer home. She had lived here as an Affiliate and then been crowned Consort here against her will. She had been forced to face her greatest fear right here on this step in her final test to become dragon bound with Sarielle. She had seen herself succumbing to her blood magic and murdering all of her friends. She had sacrificed her own life to save others. And still, when she needed stability, she came back to where it had all started.

Her red gown flowed out soft and silken over her hips to the ground. A reminder of who she was and what she had been. A sharp contrast to the fighting leathers she had been in since entering the dragon tournament in Kinkadia.

Vera materialized a minute later, still in the loose gown she had been in before stepping through the divide. She no longer flickered or wavered, as if crossing over had solidified everything.

Vera glanced around, taking in the castle grounds with a frown. Do you always draw forth your home?

Usually.

I suppose it makes sense. You’ve traveled the world, but your destiny remains here.

Cyrene ground her teeth together. Destiny again. A heavy mantle that she had rushed headfirst into. The Heir of Light meeting the Heir of Darkness on the battlefield. A battle to end all battles. Except that battle had ended with her friend’s murder, kidnapping, and Kael Dremylon disappearing into thin air in the midst of it all. So much for the prophecy.

Shall we begin? Cyrene asked.

Vera took a deep breath and nodded. I know that you don’t trust me. I understand you well enough to know that your trust is everything. It’s your lifeline. Your guiding beacon. But please hear the whole story before you judge my actions.

Will this stop Malysa?

Vera sighed. Knowledge is power, Cyrene. You, of all people, should know that.

Cyrene opened her mouth to respond, but then Byern dematerialized before her eyes. Vera had taken control. Gone were the towering mountains and elbow-shaped river of Cyrene’s home. In its place was an enormous throne room—two, three, ten times the size of any she had ever seen before. It was all made of polished marble with dozens of columns lining the room, which was open to the simple breeze beyond. Cyrene’s jaw dropped as she took in the magnitude of the palace and the enormity of the city below. She had seen some incredible cities before, but this one went on for leagues, even on into the soft, rolling hills beyond.

Where are we? Cyrene whispered.

My home—Domara.

Cyrene startled. You’re from…the world of the gods.

Dean had gone to Domara to gain magic. The dragons had come from Domara before they were banished. Domara was a legend so great, she hadn’t truly believed in its existence.

Yes, Vera said. The gods reside on Domara. My father was one. Though my sister and I were not despite our talent. We were mere bargaining chips.

She waved her hand, and the throne room filled as she moved into a memory.

Two young girls stood before the dais. They couldn’t have been older than Cyrene’s eighteen years. Though they held themselves with the self-importance that came with luxury. A giant of a man sat on the throne. He glowed from the inside out as if his skin were made of something more than flesh.

I will hear no more of this, the man bellowed. It has been decided. Malysa, you will marry Camilan before the summer solstice. Benetta, you are to help prepare her. Now, go wait in the parlor until he arrives.

But, Father, Malysa begged, I should go to the academy. Why must I suffer this way?

Their father narrowed his eyes in a manner that said he didn’t repeat himself often. If you do not do this for me, daughter, I will banish you into the hinterlands. Then, I will no longer hear your tongue wag.

Benetta stepped up, eager and soft. We will do as you asked, Father. She tugged on her sister’s arm.

And, with one more fiery look, Malysa followed her sister out of the throne room.

The scene shimmered and reappeared in a study full of papers, baubles, and jewels. It was resplendent with gold filigree in every corner. The wealth the likes Cyrene had never seen in all of her travels.

Benetta was holding an outrageously large diamond in her hand. It appeared that they had stepped into the middle of an argument with Malysa.

Seventeen years of magic school was not, nor will it ever be, enough for me. If I’d gone to the academy at seventeen, like I was supposed to, then I’d know how to make this work, Malysa said. She lobbed the priceless diamond at Benetta, who gasped and caught it in her hands.

We all have a place in this world, Benetta tried to reason with her sister.

My place is ruling everything, Malysa snarled. A flash of darkness appeared around Malysa’s otherwise golden glow. I am so tired, Benny.

Benetta sighed and then held the diamond out to her. Come on. Maybe, if we practice together while we can, we’ll find our own place.

You really think so?

Anything is possible.

Cyrene’s eyes were locked on the diamond as Malysa placed her hand over Benetta’s. This diamond. She had seen it before. She knew that she had. In one of her dreams with Serafina, the Domina had been wearing the diamond around her neck. It was the symbol of the ruler. What was it doing here, in this moment?

But Cyrene didn’t get to ask the question before both girls were enveloped in a shimmery gold magic.

Lysa? Benetta asked.

Do you hear that?

Hear what?

Benetta struggled against her sister, but Malysa just responded, The humming.

There was a flash, and then they were gone.

Cyrene blinked and reached out for Vera. What happened?

Look around you.

She shielded her eyes against the bright light of day and turned to find a very familiar mountain range and a rapidly moving L-shaped river. A village stood in the crook of the river. Cyrene put her hand to her heart, ignoring whatever the girls were doing beside her.

Byern, she whispered.

As I first saw it, Vera confirmed.

But how?

The diamond is a dimensional portal. It transported us from Domara to here and never worked in reverse.

You were stranded here, she whispered.

Vera nodded as she watched her younger self tramp down the mountainside toward the village. They saw us as goddesses. See how we glow? People of Domara are called Doma. We were the first Doma of this world. We brought magic. Malysa sought to find her place here, away from our father and Camilan. Away from responsibility and duty.

And you? What did you want? Cyrene asked, seeing the grief written on her face for the world that she had lost in her sister’s desperation for more.

I’ll show you.

They stood in the Byern village. Some time had clearly passed. The homes were better fortified. Boats moved through the river, bringing merchants and wealth. The women wore silk, men had rounder figures, and prosperity was evident everywhere. Goddesses or not, Malysa and Vera had changed the face of Byern forever by landing here and bringing their knowledge of Domara with them.

What am I looking for? I asked Vera.

Wait for it, she whispered. Her throat was tight and words soft as if she was going to shed tears at any moment.

Then, a man strode into the scene. Tall, broad, and carrying pelts over his shoulder. He had a kind smile and the eyes of a hunter—cunning and knowledgeable. People stepped out of his way wherever he strode. His presence held power without any of the magic or ostentatious displays of wealth she’d seen in Domara.

A woman appeared before him. She was small with wild, curly hair tied back into an unruly bun and plain clothing. Nothing to depict that she was actually Vera, a goddess to these people.

Cyrene’s eyebrows rose. Are you in disguise?

It was Malysa’s desire to rule. I just wanted to live. We were the goddesses on high in Byern for fifty years when I first met Henrik.

Vera’s face transformed in that moment. Seeing the man that she clearly still loved to this day. Despite the fact that this was several thousand years since she had first seen him, it seemed just as prominent now as then.

Vera sighed and waved the scene into nothing. We spent a lifetime together, had a dozen children, and still, it could never be enough. It was a hard lesson to learn firsthand—that humans grow old and die while I stay young for eternity. It had never seemed so daunting in Domara, where most lived such long lives. Falling in love with a human was absurd.

And Malysa let you know it?

Vera laughed softly, her body shaking from the exertion. Malysa cared nothing for Henrik. It was what came next that upset her.

The world shifted. The market gone. Young Henrik and Benetta disappearing. In its place was a cloistered room with the soft sounds of a baby’s cries filling the birthing chamber.

Benetta reached for the baby and held it to her breast. The midwife offered words of congratulations for the strong baby girl. Tears shimmered in Benetta’s eyes as she stared down at her baby for the first time.

I shall let Henrik know, the midwife said. He will be pleased.

He’d better be pleased after that, Benetta muttered.

She stoked her finger down the tiny face and played with all the little fingers. Staring down at her daughter like she was a little miracle.

What will you call her?

Benetta sighed in pleasure. Selma.

It’s perfect.

The minute Benetta was left alone, the candles extinguished, and the room was cast into darkness. Benetta didn’t cry out as a figure materialized out of thin air into the room.

Hello, sister, Benetta said. Did you come to offer your congratulations?

Malysa glowed the bright gold of the Domara people. Her self-portaling clearly, perfectly intact at the time. Her face was set in a look of disgust. This has gone on long enough, Benny. Having a dalliance with a human is one thing. Becoming his prize breeding mare is quite another.

I know it is hard for you to believe, Lysa, but this is what I want. I love Henrik. I love our daughter. This is nothing like home. We are not bound to live out our lives like we did back in Domara.

"We are meant to rule, Malysa hissed. Not create these abominations. Have you considered what happens if you breed magic into the line?"

Benetta smiled and kissed her daughter’s head. Then, we start the academy we were always denied.

Malysa looked at her, horrified. I thought you were my sister.

I am, Lysa. Why can’t you accept that this is a good thing?

How can you not see that this is beneath you?

I don’t want to rule. You rule. I will have my family.

So, that’s it? Malysa asked, straightening. You’re turning your back on your only family.

I’m turning my back on nothing but your all-consuming control. You are no better than Father if you try to force your way of living on me.

Malysa took a step back in shock and horror. Then, she disappeared in a clap of blackness.

I didn’t see her for many years after that, Vera whispered. I should have worried more. But I was busy with a new family and a new life. I didn’t see what she was becoming. How she was gaining her title—the goddess of destruction.

3

THE DESTROYER

B enetta, come quick, Henrik cried, rushing into their home.

She was on her feet before he even reached her. She admired the shot of gray through his hair while she still looked as if she were in the blush of youth. What is it, my love?

Your sister.

The words clearly froze her in place. Where is she?

The woods. Out by the old cabin.

What will I find when I get there?

Something I wish that I could shield you from, Henrik said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. But you are the only one who can stop her.

Take care of the children and send word to Selma immediately.

Henrik grimaced. Do you think it will be necessary to warn our daughter?

Selma might be our firstborn, but she is also the strongest in my gifts. I trained her the best I could. She is training others now. It would be best for her to be ready…

She didn’t say anything else, but Cyrene could see that she was trying to prepare her husband for the worst.

I won’t be long, Benetta promised. It sounded like a lie.

Benetta reached in her pocket and withdrew a gold coin. The same gold coin that Cyrene held with the face of a woman and a raised motto rimming the outside. The coin that Malysa had given to Cyrene while she was in the midst of her blood-magic fever dream. The very same one that Malysa had used to try to recruit Cyrene.

Cyrene’s eyes were wide as she turned them on Vera, who just nodded. Benetta flipped the coin, and a portal opened.

You knew the whole time, Cyrene hissed at her.

Vera winced. I am sorry, Cyrene. You had to discover it on your own.

You told me a coin had never been used as a talisman before, she accused.

Matilde said that, Vera whispered. And, to her knowledge…one never had.

You lied to her, too? She’s your…

Twin? Vera finished on a sigh. Let’s just continue the story.

Cyrene shook her head and then watched as Benetta stepped through the portal and onto a snow-covered path covered in bright red blood. The scene was beyond gruesome. A horrifying display of cruelty. Men lay scattered across the path in no discernible pattern. Just pure slaughter. Throats slit, guts gouged from the navels up, bodies hacked to pieces. She had never seen anything like it, and though it had happened more than two millennia ago, she still gagged at the sight.

Snow crunched under Benetta’s boots as she walked through the carnage toward the cabin at the top of the hill. A woman stood before it, a shining goddess in mourning white. The gown was splattered with the blood of the dying men. And Cyrene could taste it then. Blood magic.

Her body sizzled at the feel. She was thankful it was a vision and that she couldn’t taste the sweet, tempting elixir for herself. Blood magic was the most addictive substance on the earth. She had used the blood magic from her parents’ deaths to save King Edric, and as far as she knew, she was the only person to ever survive it. Still, it tempted her. And she could feel it in the air here.

Cyrene looked toward Vera. But she was staring at her sister and the scene unfolding.

Lysa, Benetta said softly. Lysa…are you okay?

Malysa turned then and faced her sister. The dark pupils were completely blasted out until it appeared her entire eyes were black with power. With madness.

Now you come, sister, Malysa snapped, her voice a whip.

What has happened? What…what happened here?

I killed them, she said dismissively.

Yes. But why? They were innocent men. They didn’t deserve this death.

They were not innocent. They were nothing, she growled.

Tell me, Benetta begged. Tell me what happened. How to help you.

Malysa looked away then, off to the mountains beyond. Her voice was even, but her hands trembled. I met a man. I thought…I thought, if you could be happy with these mongrels, then I could find that same happiness. He was a young lord, wealthy, with all the right words. Words of flattery. But it was a joke, a lie.

Benetta tensed.

Vera went rigid, as if anticipating the blow. Cyrene bit her lip and waited.

He made a mistake. He thought me a fool. He thought I was not what I’d said I was—a goddess in truth. He invited his friends here. Malysa’s mad gaze met her. They thought that a woman could not defend herself. That a woman was nothing more than a vessel. A worthless piece of flesh for their organs to violate.

Lysa, Benetta gasped, taking a step closer.

Their mistake was paid for in blood. All of their blood. She reached down and retrieved the head at her foot. She callously threw it to Benetta. Return this to your village as a reminder of what will happen to men when they seek to take advantage.

Oh, Lysa, I’m so sorry. She took another step forward. Please let me help you. Let me wash you and clean your clothes. I’ll…I’ll take care of you.

Malysa grinned then. That old, familiar darkness winking into existence. The black edges coating her fingertips. No. I think not. I think…this is just the beginning.

And then Malysa turned around and walked into the cabin.

Cyrene looked at Vera. Did you go after her?

A tear trickled down Vera’s face. The vision wavered with her emotions and the drain on her magic. I tried to reach her many times, but she was lost to me. Some would say that I should have stopped her then. With all those men at my feet. But I did not disagree with her then, nor do I now. She was my sister, and she was hurting. Though I wish I could have fixed what came later.

The vision reassembled on a battlefield. The castle of Byern was in the background. Not quite as magnificent as it was today, as it had still been under construction. But, clearly, much time had passed. Enough time that the Doma court had begun, evidenced by the variety of colored dress of the magical users on the battlefield.

Malysa and I spent three hundred years circling each other. While I was creating the academy Malysa and I always dreamed back home and helping generations of my family run the country, my sister was creating her own dark world. Corrupting a branch of my family to make the cursed Nokkin, creating the Indres, awakening her assassins—the Braj—and making dark artifacts. We fought many battles. But it all came to a close here. Vera winced. Or so I thought.

Benetta’s lithe figure and mass of curly brown hair appeared then, stalking off of the battlefield. She still seemed to be no older than Cyrene. Possibly younger. Though Cyrene knew she was several hundred years old at this point.

Cyrene and Vera followed her away from the war and up into the mountains.

A few moments later, Malysa appeared.

You called, sister? Malysa asked.

Her madness had only intensified. She’d lost weight. Her eyes were all black, dark circles hanging heavy underneath, and black was running up from her fingers over her wrists and to her elbows.

Let us finish this once and for all.

Malysa laughed without mirth. You think you are a challenge for me, little sister? You command nothing. And you were always weaker than me.

Yes, Benetta agreed easily.

She shucked off the cloak she had been wearing and removed a book that Cyrene had seen many times. The book that Basille Selby had given to her sister, Elea, on the day of Cyrene’s Presenting. The book that Elea had given to Cyrene as a birthday present. The book that had started everything.

Vera reached out and clasped her hand. Her skin was clammy, and her body turned from solid to a wisp. Cyrene could hardly hold on to her.

Soon now. Vera’s voice was carried on the breeze.

Oh, a book. Malysa cackled. You always were the scholar, weren’t you?

Once, you wished to become that.

"No, I was the politician, dear sister. I wanted the knowledge to rule. No more. Once, I wanted you to be the academic at my back. But, no, you had to choose them."

"I didn’t choose them, Malysa. I would be happy in a world where we could all live in harmony."

I made the mistake of believing that was possible once, too. But never again. I have my own children now.

If that is what you call your abominations.

Vera shook and gasped as the vision wavered. Her magic running dry. Just…a little more.

Are you sure?

Vera didn’t answer. She just concentrated.

Malysa and Benetta fought then. A magical fight like nothing Cyrene had ever seen. True light and dark clashing together. A battle that would be replayed in history over and over. Replaying this civil war, this family feud, that shook the heavens.

Then, Benetta removed something from her pocket. A diamond. The diamond. Malysa’s eyes went wide with shock and greed. But Benetta channeled her energy into the diamond, she said a phrase from the book, and bright light cascaded from the talisman. She directed it at Malysa.

Cyrene shielded her eyes from the blinding light, and when she looked once more, Malysa had been split in two. A body lay on the floor, and a dark spirit hung in the space before it. Severed.

Benetta clutched her chest, gasping for breath. Blood ran from her nose and out of her ears. Her body shuddered with exhaustion. She slowly rose to her feet, but something was different about her. It was as if her glow had diminished…even though she had dampened it for so long.

Tears fell down Vera’s face. They watched Benetta try and fail to open a portal with the coin a half-dozen times before she regained enough energy to force it to open. She took the dark spirit high into the Haeven Mountains and trapped her sister away forever.

Vera’s hand suddenly disappeared from Cyrene’s. She reached for Vera, but she was gone. The wisp disintegrating, wafting away into nothing.

Cyrene pushed her hand against the wall to walk out of Vera’s memories and nightmares. But the liquid she normally encountered had solidified. There was no escape.

She swallowed and tried to release the sudden spike of anxiety. She could get out of here. She wasn’t trapped just because Vera was gone.

She pressed against the wall again, but nothing happened. Then, the vision disassembled and was replaced by the tallest, darkest snow-capped mountains she’d ever seen. The Haeven Mountains in the high north frozen tundra.

A laugh echoed behind her.

Cyrene whipped around, and to her horror, she found a figure standing at an entrance to the mountains. Malysa. Her heart froze. She looked so like Matilde. She was Matilde. The dark spirit reunited with the body. Her curls were wild. The black had returned, climbing up her arms. She smiled wickedly at Cyrene.

How was your walk down memory lane? Malysa asked pleasantly.

Cyrene stilled. You can’t be here.

And yet, I am.

What do you want?

Malysa smiled. I told you what I want.

Me?

I did, but now, I think annihilation to any who won’t submit to me would be nice.

You’re not going to win, Cyrene said with a false sense of confidence.

You couldn’t keep me out of your dreams when I was but a sliver of my true power. How do you expect to stop me now? Wouldn’t it be easier if you just submitted to me?

No, she spat.

Malysa grinned, and it was pure wickedness. That’s not what your friend said.

Cyrene glared. Let. Ahlvie. Go.

I would if he wanted to leave.

He does.

Malysa winked at her. I just don’t understand why you evade me, Cyrene. My sister has been a bad, bad girl. She’s lied to you. Everyone has lied to you. Why give your allegiance to those who are faithless?

Probably because they’re not mass murderers.

Malysa laughed then. Laughed and laughed. Your hands are all red.

Suddenly, Cyrene’s hands were literally red. Blood dripping off of them as if she’d just killed all those people she feared she would.

Doesn’t it call you?

Cyrene shivered as if Malysa had run a nail down her neck.

The blood magic?

No, Cyrene ground out.

It wants you to come home. To me.

Suddenly, the need hit her full force like it hadn’t since she was cured in Fen. She dropped to her knees. It ached so bad. She thought she was going to die. The need, the want, the pain, the desire, the blood. Her stomach clenched, and she groaned.

She closed her eyes and tried to fight the blood magic from overwhelming her and leaving her senseless. She was stronger than this. She could get out of this. She didn’t need it. She didn’t want it. She had promised that she would never do it again or else it would end in disaster.

She gritted her teeth and remembered this was just a dream. Just spirit. It was all controlled by whoever was strongest. Cyrene pushed back inch by inch. Released her need for it. Shoved it away from her. Pressed it out of her body and then tossed it toward Malysa.

Malysa took a step back in surprise. Her eyes widened and then narrowed.

Cyrene knew then that Malysa was about to grasp back control of the dream. That she was here to toy with her. And, if she got the edge again, she’d never let her go.

She concentrated, and with a gasp, she fell backward out of the spiritual plane. The sound of Malysa’s screams of frustration was her last thought before she crashed back into her body, emotionally and physically spent.

4

THE COUNCIL

I ’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Vera cried over and over again. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she rocked Cyrene’s body. Please forgive me. I held on as long as I could. But she saw my weakness. She pushed me out.

Vera, Cyrene choked.

Oh, Cyrene, Vera gasped. You’re alive. How did you get out? She let you out?

Cyrene’s only response was rolling over and vomiting up the contents of her stomach. She purged and purged and purged. Would have opened up her own veins to try to get the dark magic out of her bloodstream if she thought it would help. But all she felt was the tingling ache of it zinging through her system. The desire gnawing through her stomach.

Vera ran her hand down Cyrene’s back. She could sense Sarielle and Ameerath hovering nearby. Their distress was palpable.

What happened, my soul sister? I felt the great Vera break the link, her magic fracturing, but then you were gone. Pulled away from me.

The fear was clear in Sarielle’s voice as she spoke directly into Cyrene’s mind, but she had no words yet. The sensation of blood magic still crawled through her. So potent. So tempting.

It was Malysa, Vera said. She pulled you to her.

Cyrene nodded, spitting the disgusting taste of bile out of her mouth. She swallowed and winced at the raw texture of her throat. She was in no condition to speak about what had happened. The fear was still raw, and the sickness continued to escalate and run rampant through her.

She needed to get away.

Far, far away from any humans.

She didn’t trust herself. Not with Malysa’s influence in her veins. Not with the blood magic threatening for her to take a life.

She closed her eyes and dug her hands into the hard-packed earth. She was stronger than this. She had only used blood magic once. She did not want this. She was stronger than this.

Cyrene, Vera croaked, what happened in there?

Cyrene just shook her head and bodily crawled away from Vera. She wrapped her arms around her legs and then rocked back and forth, back and forth. She needed to get it out. She needed it gone.

She felt the brush of the bonding link between her and Sarielle. The question that she didn’t have to give voice to. The strength that was there for her if she needed it.

She took a deep breath and then released it. She did it again. And again.

Until her body didn’t tremble with the magic, didn’t attempt to suffocate her.

Then, she looked up and found both dragons and a battered Vera staring at her with concern on their ancient faces. The sun crested the horizon behind them, bathing them in a soft orange glow. Dawn. They’d been out here all night. And she hadn’t slept or eaten in…she didn’t know how long.

Recharge.

She had to recharge.

If she didn’t…she didn’t know what she would do.

Blood magic, was all she could get out through gritted teeth.

Vera’s shocked face said everything she needed to know. This was bad. Very bad. Let’s get you back to camp.

Cyrene’s eyes widened with fear. Camp. Where the people were. And Vera had no magic. No sister. Avoca was broken. And the Network was a jumble of magical users. Nothing like the Ancient Ones in Fen who had helped bring her back from the brink. If things went south, there would be no one to stop it. She could become a vessel for Malysa without even thinking about it.

Away, she said at once. Her eyes shifted to Sarielle. A plea in the blue orbs. Far away.

Cyrene, wait, Vera gasped. We can figure this out.

Climb on my back, and we will soar into the skies. I will protect you from the taint that calls to you.

Taint. Yes, that was what was in her.

Yes…the skies.

Cyrene crawled away from Vera, rising to her feet as she reached Sarielle’s flank. Then, she used her remaining strength to haul herself onto her dragon’s back. And they flew away into the distance. Far from the army that beckoned her.

Cyrene felt weak.

It was a sensation she did not much appreciate. And would not allow to happen again. Could not afford to let happen again.

Sarielle landed back in the clearing the next morning. The camp was visible beyond as Cyrene slid from her powerful back and dropped to her feet. She straightened, her posture stiff yet strong. She’d slept on Sarielle’s back until the dragon set down on the banks of a small lake. Cyrene had eaten late spring brambles and roasted fish over a fire. And she had thought. Thought deeply about all Malysa had said and done in the spirit plane.

With no blood nearby—save Sarielle, who seemed to have no influence on her blood-magic cravings—she had a clear head. For the first time since Malysa had dropped in on her army.

She’d harnessed the blood magic. Buried it down deep within the pit of her stomach and trapped it there. The addiction would never go away. That much she knew. That much she had accepted. But what she wouldn’t accept was its control over her. Malysa had implanted the need in her mind, and Cyrene had every intention of plucking it right back out. And shielding her mind to keep that from ever happening again.

I still think that we should fly to the mountains now and take her on.

Cyrene snorted. I know that you do. But we have to do this the right way.

You do it the right way. I will await the time that we can take the skies again, uninhibited. When we can go after the petulant child calling herself a goddess and show her the power of a true dragon-bound pairing.

Cyrene loved her bravado. She patted Sarielle’s flank in response. Then, she trekked back into the camp. She passed the combined strength of the Network’s ragtag company and the might of the Eleysian army. Soldiers stared at her. Some with wary expressions. Others with awe. She didn’t know what they saw when they looked at her. But she kept her head about her and walked straight to the war tent.

And was pleased to find the war council already assembled.

All heads turned her way when she swaggered in.

Good morning, she said with a confident smile.

Everyone spoke at once. Orden jumped to his feet, having taken her place in her absence. Avoca stood behind him. Her ice-white blade in her hand. Her face blank. Gwynora was at the head of the long table that had been brought in. She looked put out that Cyrene was back. Their truce a fragile thing in the aftermath of their loss.

The rest of the council included some that she knew, some that she didn’t. Some that hated her, some that she might believe were allies.

Brigette, the queen of Eleysia and Dean’s sister, who still blamed her for their parents’ murder. Darmian, a close friend of Dean’s, who had been promoted after the fall of the Eleysian capital. Fenix was a former Network spy, who was apparently dating her closest friend from home, Rhea. Then, there were Joffrey and Brendt. Both Eleysian politicians who thought the sun shone out of their asses.

Where have you been? barked Gwynora, her voice ringing out above the others.

Where I’ve been doesn’t matter. Yesterday, I learned the history of our enemy from her sister. Then, Malysa revealed herself to me.

A gasp rang out around her.

You saw her again? Orden asked in concern.

She nodded once sharply. "She came to me in a dream in an attempt to break my will. She didn’t win. And she’s not going to win."

She trampled all over us, hardly lifting a finger, Joffrey spat. Now, you’re saying she managed to get into your dreams, and that isn’t cause for concern?

She reached in through a loophole. It won’t happen again, she confidently told him.

You don’t know that, Brendt said. You could give away all of our battle tactics without us being able to do anything about it.

"As far as I know, we don’t have any battle tactics. We’re sitting here, unable to decide what our next move is."

If you didn’t notice, Brigette said with intense superiority in her voice, we’re planning them right now. Thanks to your disappearing act, we were actually able to get something accomplished. You interrupted.

Enough, Gwynora said, silencing the room. Tell us what you came to say, Cyrene.

"Malysa is not a goddess. She might claim to be the Destroyer, the goddess of destruction, but she is a mere mortal, like