I was alone.
Only then did the fire around me begin to diminish. I realized that no one would have seen what happened, and perhaps with the roar of the flames,
they might not even have heard it. They only would have seen a bright flash of light that had instantly vanished from within the flames.
I rose and retrieved my sword. The Olden Blade was still too hot to touch, but I stood near it, desperately calling for Kestra. Fully aware she would not, or could not, answer me. And calling out her name anyway.
With the flames nearly burned out now, the people in the courtyard gasped when they saw I was alone. They probably had no idea what Kestra had just done, what she had sacrificed. They only knew that Joth was no longer here.
Gabe and Harlyn were the first to climb onto the platform. He put an arm around me to offer support, and Harlyn asked, “What just happened?”
As if in answer to her question, moments later, Joth walked out onto a balcony at the front of the palace. He was making an obvious effort to appear as strong as ever, but I’d seen where Kestra stabbed him and he clearly was injured.
But he was alive.
He shouted down, “Victory is mine. The Scarlet Throne is mine. There is no one left to challenge me, so please, my people, accept that and let us be happy.”
I stepped forward, shouting back, “Where is Kestra?”
He laughed. “You saw it for yourself, Simon. Your love, Kestra Dallisor, is dead. And so will all of you die if you continue to defy me.”
Gabe tugged at my arm. “Come with me. We have to get out of here.”
I shook my head, unable to process his words. She had been here only seconds ago, and surely she would return again. Wasn’t she immortal now? When her magic regenerated within her, this was where she would come.
Unless she couldn’t. Unless she wasn’t truly immortal.
Rosaleen reached my side, though she obviously understood something devastating had happened. She took my arm in hers. “Lean on me.”
Joth shouted, “Yes, crawl from here, King of the Banished, King of Nothing and No One. And take your sad Alliance with you. Anyone still here in ten minutes had better be on their knees offering themselves as my servants.”
Rosaleen said, “He must be more injured than he is letting on, or he would attack. But that won’t last long.”
Harlyn pressed a hand against my back. “We must leave, Simon. Please.”
By then, Trina had joined us, and I followed her gaze toward the Olden Blade. “Kestra was here, Trina.”
“I know, I was in front and heard everything.” Trina crouched before the Olden Blade and picked it up with her cloak. “Simon, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think Joth is telling the truth. I think Kestra really is gone.”
Gone. Removed. Stopped. All the words we used to avoid saying what really was happening.
I wouldn’t say it either, but as my friends and sister led me from the courtyard, the words I was trying not to think about were shattering my world apart.
Kestra was dead.
I truly didn’t care.
Whatever the threat, whatever the latest disaster or complaint, I could not make myself care enough to solve it.
Loelle had healed my wounds, and Rosaleen had put a bowl of stew in front of me that I didn’t touch. Somehow I had ended up in the Woodcourt library, though I couldn’t say exactly how long we’d been meeting, or even what we’d been discussing.
With me was Gabe, who had taken over leadership of the Coracks. Harlyn and Trina sat near him, also Basil and Imri Stout. Closest was Rosaleen, who had her hand over mine, though I couldn’t feel it. Each was seated in a circle, all eyes on me, waiting for me to say something.
And I had nothing to offer.
“Did you see the Dallisors kneeling to Joth as we left the courtyard?” Harlyn asked. “I’ll bet he invited them into the palace and now they’re lying on the floor mostly dead while Joth has made himself whole again.”
“I saw them, the cowards.” With another squeeze of my hand, Rosaleen added, “Darrow and I were the last people with Kestra before she climbed onto that platform. I think she knew she was going to die, whether the Olden Blade worked or not.”