Astarte's Wrath (Kythan Guardians 0.50) - Page 48

“The sorcerer is not a completely useless relic like I once thought.”

Fadil. He’s proved us fools. I may not have trusted him, but I surely didn’t think him capable of magics this great—to be able to free an entire race of Kythan.

“But,” Candra continues. “He’s still not capable of the true old magics. The spell was only a temporary unbinding to release the Narcolym for battle.”

And as if on cue, the doors grind open. My head jerks around as the Narcolym fill the entranceway—so many that most linger on the steps and in the street. They’re here to witness Candra’s performance. To make sure she delivers on her promise to them.

My whole being pulses with fury at seeing the traitorous race. I tamp down my Charge as it curls in snapping ribbons around my fingers. Almost time.

“I aim to keep my promises.” Candra holds the scepter above her head. “And I aim to be done with this mortal realm.”

As Candra begins to chant, her lilted words soft and breathy, Octavian creeps toward the back wall. I’m sure he doesn’t want to be near the powerful magics—magics not seen in hundreds of years. It’s amusing to watch one who thinks himself so mighty cower before true power.

If Candra believes she can selectively release the Kythan of their slavery binds, she’s wrong. We’re all linked. What is done to one race is done to the other. It’s how we were designed, and I wonder why Fadil didn’t explain this to her. Maybe he was only intent on seeing the blasphemous Ptolemies and their gods defeated. I’m sure he loathes the fact that he can no longer employ the old magics, envious of Candra for being the one to do what he lost long ago. I wonder if he’s sneering right now, mocking Candra, as he envisions this outcome. It’s as if the sly sorcerer was the mastermind behind this whole affair, and believes he’ll be the one to gain in the end.

But as cunning as Fadil is, he’s not the master of misdirection. Our great, now-departed queen was.

I look at Xarion. Hold his gaze—the stormy emerald eyes I’ve gazed into my whole life—and mouth, “Be ready.”

The ink on my neck begins to shift. A burning sensation crawls beneath my skin as the swirls around the mark of the Kythan transform. Beside me, Phoenix hisses through his teeth and slaps a hand over his power source. I nudge him, trying to silently warn him from gaining Candra’s attention.

But when I look back at the Leymak working the old magics, the scepter still raised toward the heavens, she’s lost in the power, her eyes blazing a pure white. She may have ascended from the depths of the Primeval Waters with ancient knowledge trickling from her essence, but she’s not yet lived long enough on this plane to garner common sense. She doesn’t believe any human could wield the old magics. And again, that is only her pride betraying her.

Candra’s arms tremble, the bangles on her wrists clinking. She gasps as power surges through her. “I command it so!”

I can’t prevent the scream that tears from my throat as my neck emblazes with light—a mystic fire wrapping me in white lashing coils. The temple vibrates with the cries of the Narcos suffering the same pain. I reach out and latch on to Phoenix’s hand for comfort, and he grips mine back.

When the pain finally begins to subside, I fall forward on my hands and take deep breaths. I don’t feel any different—not yet—but I know everything has changed. My Ba is awakening to a new law. It can sense it.

The guardians will never be commanded by another pharaoh of Egypt. The millennia of slavery under the pharaohs have ended—but the Kythan are far from free. Cleopatra ensured that if Candra ever captured her son, if she ever evoked the power of the was scepter, the Kythan would be cursed.

The last reigning pharaoh of Egypt did not bow out of this world unavenged.

“This is wrong—something is wrong,” a Narco just feet from me utters. “What have you done, sorceress?”

Candra’s body is drenched with sweat, her thin layers of linen clinging to her heaving chest. The smile on her face falls when she opens her eyes and takes in the surly Narcolym. “I don’t understand—” She breaks off and glances at the amulet in her shaky hands.

Rising onto my feet with some difficulty, I shout, “She’s betrayed us! We’ve been cursed!” The Narcolym mutter foul curses. I spot Octavian slinking closer to the back exit. “We’ve not been freed—she’s enslaved us to all humans!”

A ruckus breaks out as the Narcos shout, argue, shove—and start for Candra.

I savor the loathe look she sends me right before they swarm her, and attack.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Xarion!”

It’s my voice that rises over the pandemonium as I desperately fight through the fray.

Phoenix, a true warrior, growls and lobs Narcos aside, clearing our path. I fla

re my Charge, creating a field of crackling blue, sending my fists into any body that gets in my way to Xarion. I continually sweep my eyes, looking for Candra.

She has not been taken down. Not when she can vanish into the aether in a blink. I have to get Xarion out of Octavian’s clutches before she reemerges. Though I doubt she’ll reappear in the midst of enraged Narcos seeking to rip her apart, I can’t chance it.

Octavian’s hands wave frantically above his head. He orders his soldiers to retreat with Xarion through the back door.

With a cry, I barrel into the massive Narco blocking the dais. My body ricochets off his brick wall of a chest, and I stumble backward. He raises his muscled arms toward me, and Phoenix leaps onto the Narco’s back. I rush past just as the Narco hurls Phoenix over his shoulder.

Tags: Trisha Wolfe Kythan Guardians
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