“You cannot speak to me as if I am the man I once was,” Myrin said, hands curling into fists at his sides. “You made sure that part of me died a long, long time ago.”
“I know,” Morgan said. “And I will regret to the end of my days not allowing you to pass beyond the veil. It was my cowardice that held on to the hope that one day, we could find a way to…. Well. It doesn’t matter now.”
“You regret not killing me?” Myrin sounded shocked.
“I regret not having the strength to do what I needed to do,” Morgan corrected gently. “If I had, we would not be here. I had hope. But I should have realized that you did not. And to answer your questions, I am here because Sam is my apprentice. I know all the steps he has taken. There was something just off about that page, though I could never put my finger on why I felt that way. But I learned long ago to trust my senses. You do not have much time, Myrin. You have entered the City of Lockes with ill intent. The King’s map will soon sound warning of your trespass.”
“The King’s map,” Myrin scoffed. “Elven magic. It is unreliable. It will show danger in the City, but how accurate can it be? The knights will scour Lockes, but by the time they find this house, it will be over.”
“Will it? And I assume you mean that you’ll have consumed Sam’s magic.”
“Let’s not remind him about that,” I said hastily. “Maybe we can just talk about something else instead.”
They both ignored me. “Yes,” Myrin said. “I will. And then Lockes will fall. The Darks will pour from the forest and Verania will be brought to its knees. Its people will look upon me as I tower above them, and they will beg for me to save them. And I will be kind to them, because the most loyal of animals are the ones that you have not raised your hand to.”
Morgan nodded as if that was what he expected. “There is one minor problem with that.”
“And that is?”
“I won’t let you have him.”
“No?”
“No.”
“I thought not.”
Morgan was moving even before Myrin finished speaking. He clapped his hands in front of his chest, and the house around us trembled at the strength of him. The sound of his hands striking was like thunder, and even as he pulled them apart, even as his magic roared throughout the room, Myrin countered, hands raised and glowing rust red, like dried blood. His fingers were curled like claws, and as Morgan’s arms stretched wide, a bright bubble spreading from the center of his chest—the containment—Myrin answered with a bright flash of light that smashed against Morgan’s magic. It collided with the bubble and ricocheted with a disastrous clang, the shock wave knocking Ruv off his feet, head smacking against the crumbling stone of the fireplace. He collapsed to the ground and stayed there.
Myrin’s magic bounced against the wall where Ryan was still pinned, causing the wood to break apart. Ryan slid to the floor, collapsing against the wall, the sword falling out of him, the flat of the blade landing on his legs. His head and shoulders slumped forward.
Dust and debris swirled around the room as the bubble expanded to encapsulate Myrin and Morgan. They stood facing each other, just out of reach. Morgan’s hands were stretched out in front of him, and they were shaking.
Myrin reached up and touched the curve of the bubble around them. It looked as if it shocked him, as he pulled away quickly, little ripples stretching along the bubble.
“Containment,” he said quietly. “I never thought—you surprise me, little brother. Even now, even after all this time. You used this on me once before. You were younger then. And it wouldn’t have held had it not been for Randall.”
“I have learned much in your absence,” Morgan said through gritted teeth. Sweat dripped down his forehead as his fingers trembled. “I am not the apprentice I once was.”
“No,” Myrin said. “I suppose you are not. But nor am I. You understand that?”
“Yes.”
“You have contained me, Morgan. The problem is that you have contained yourself as well.”
Morgan shook his head. “I have kept you from him.”
Myrin laughed. “Perhaps. But once I am finished with you, I will go to him. He is trapped, just as you are.”
Morgan smiled sadly. “You have forgotten, Myrin. The strength of a wizard is not in his magic, but those that believe in him. Those that will stand at his side, even when all seems lost. And that, Myrin, that belief is stronger than any magic.”
Myrin took a step back. “You speak of—” He turned in time to see Ryan pick his sword up from his lap, the hilt gripped tightly. He crossed it over his chest and, with what seemed to be the last of his strength, flung it upward. It spun in two full circles before the blade struck the ceiling, sinking into the wood painted with dragon’s blood.
The seal broke.
There was green.
There was gold.
And I was angry.
I stepped out of the circle.
Myrin’s eyes widened.
Ryan smiled a bloody smile. “Surprise, mothercracker.” His eyes closed and did not reopen.
“Sam,” Morgan said. “You must listen.”
Magic was rushing over me.
“You cannot let this consume you. You cannot let him consume you.”
The floor cracked beneath my feet.
“Take your cornerstone. Flee this place. Live to fight another day.”
I reached Morgan’s bubble. And as I took another step forward… it pushed me away.
I blinked through the haze, mind clearing. “Let me in.”
“He won’t do that,” Myrin said, sounding awed. “He won’t take the risk.” He turned back toward his brother. “Truly? This is what you’ve decided? You know once done, I will be unstoppable.”
“I think you will find yourself surprised,” Morgan said. “You always did underestimate those you thought beneath you. It was never about magic, Myrin.”
“Love,” Myrin said disdainfully. “You still believe in love. It can do nothing to stop me. I accept your offer.” He glanced back over his shoulder at me. “Run, little apprentice. But know I will come for you.”
And then he turned back toward Morgan.
He raised his hands.
I said, “No. Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.”
Myrin’s hands touched Morgan’s. Their fingers intertwined.
The rust red began to spread to Morgan.
I tried to push against Morgan’s shield, the containment that surrounded them, but it was like I could smell Ryan’s spilled blood, like I could hear the tripping, stuttering beat of his heart. That, combined with Morgan’s strength, even as the rust spread up his arms, held me back. Lightning began to arc through the room, crawling along the edges of the bubble.
I wanted death.
I wanted to kill.
The rust reached his shoulders and began to spread down through his torso.
“Let me in!” I screamed at him.
Morgan smiled at me.
He said, “Do you remember the day I came to your house for the first time? You stood in your room with such wide eyes. I loved you, Sam of Wilds. Even then. Remember that when the world seems dark. Remember that you have always been loved. You need to run.”
And then he was consumed.
His eyes rolled back in his head.
Time seemed to slow around us, and for a moment, all the world held its breath.