Directly in front of the throne room doors, a dozen half-lives stood with their eyes on me. I saw them clearly enough, but had not seen them before. If these had been in the group down in the tunnel, I hoped they were here to offer their loyalty once again.
If not, then I was in serious trouble.
Until I was sure, I braced myself, wondering if their intent was to stop me from entering the room, but that didn’t seem to be their purpose. As I stepped forward, so did they.
“You are coming with me?” I asked, more incredulous than not.
I couldn’t hear their words, and I didn’t know if they were even speaking, but I did see distinct nods, and I returned them with gratitude. So I would not be going in alone after all.
“Stay close.” I hoped that would be enough.
I hesitated outside the doors to find every possible bit of Endrick’s power that I could identify within myself. There was so much he could do that I’d never known. He could temporarily slow time and detect when someone was lying. He had dozens of powers still unexplored, or that he considered unnecessary for his reign. What little I already knew of his abilities made him far more powerful than I had suspected.
When I was queen, it might take years to understand it all. I intended to use every moment expanding my kingdom, or making the countries that had wronged me pay dearly. I’d start with the Brill. With what was left of them.
After that, my expansion of power would never end, never diminish. For once I finished with Joth, I would be immortal.
He was about to regret everything he had done to me.
At my command, the doors flung open, and I marched through them with Harlyn’s sword in hand. Joth must have known I was coming, for he stood at the base of the stairs to the Scarlet Throne, without any visible weapon but looking as if he’d been waiting for me.
If he expected a fight, I’d bring a battle, or the whole war, if necessary. I’d be a hurricane against his storm, iron for his tin. Whatever he thought of me, I would be stronger and fiercer. Faster than he could think, darker than he could see, and unafraid of the worst that he might bring.
In my previous battle with Endrick, chunks of the ceiling had fallen, but now, with a single glance of my eyes, other pieces fell, large metal squares directly above where Joth stood. Using the same magic, he halted the pieces in midair, then fluttered his fingers until they fell like snow around him. He gathered them together and began to raise a wall as his barricade. I charged forward, hoping to get to him before the wall was formed, but when I got too near, he merely pushed the wall toward me.
I saw it tilt, then placed the sword directly in front of me, blade up. The wall fell as intended but split in half exactly across the sword, leaving two metal slabs on either side of me.
Joth’s face tightened into a grimace. “You have no more claim upon this throne than I do.”
“I think you meant to say that you have no claim upon this throne whatsoever.”
He raised his hand, brushing his fingers together as if sparks of magic should somehow appear there. “Without my magic, Endrick would still be alive. So I believe I have some claim.”
I didn’t flinch. “Kneel to me now, Joth. It is the only way you will survive this.”
He smiled. “I think that you meant to say I am the only one who will survive this.”
Using the same magic Endrick had used against me multiple times, I willed his body to kneel. He did so but crouched lower and pressed his hands flat on the marble floor, which rippled away and knocked me off my feet. Once I fell, he darted for me, but I struck at him with Harlyn’s sword, getting in a slice deep enough across his lower legs that he cried out and fell forward.
He was closer now and grabbed my arm at the same time as I put a hand on his shoulder. This time I was ready, and began pulling strength from him as quickly as I could. He was doing the same, so I began searching for his powers.
“How dare you?” he snarled. “How dare you try to take my magic, after all I’ve done to get you this far?”
“It isn’t your magic, or mine,” I replied. “This is fire, and either you or I will burn with it.”
I used my free hand to reach up toward the chandelier directly overhead. I pulled it down, steering it so that it landed directly on Joth, barely missing me and crashing across his entire body. His hand that had been holding me released and went lax.
I rolled away, breathless from the energy I’d exerted, and studied Joth’s arm for any sign of movement.
When I saw none, I stood and backed away, trying to figure out what I should do next, whether this could possibly be over so easily.
Turning around the room in hopes of sensing anyone else who was here with me, I asked the half-lives, “Is he dead? I need to know—”
My answer came when I happened to see Joth’s hand form into a fist, and then the fingers flew apart. I was slammed backward, skidding along the floor. Behind me, every window along the room’s glass wall shattered with a violence that shook the building.
I started to get up, then felt a sharp pain in my leg and my head swam with dizziness. Looking down, I realized a shard of the glass had lodged in my thigh. I tried to pull it out, but I was weaker than before, and it was in deep. The edges of the glass cut my hands and even the slightest tug made me cry out in pain.
Joth emerged from beneath the chandelier as if it too were made of dust. “That must hurt,” he said, rubbing his hands together as if to gather his strength.