Obsidian Ridge (36 page)

A bright, white light hit her in the face, and her heart raced. What she’d touched was a hand—one with her personal rune inscribed in light right on its palm.

She’d found him.

His eyes were closed, and his mouth was open, but he didn’t move. Digging as fast as she could, she uncovered Quinn’s limp frame. As he came free, he flopped over into her arms.

Grabbing the back of his head, she pressed her lips to his, willing the magic of her spell into his body. Her kiss lasted a long time, and she held him tight to her chest, all the while hoping beyond hope that she had reached him in time, afraid that if she opened her eyes or let him go the magic would fail, and he would be lost forever.

But Quinn did not move. He did not spring to life and wrap her in a tight embrace. He lay still, limp and cold in her arms.

Finally, Mariko let him go, setting his head back on the ruined stone. She touched his cheek. They’d only spent a few stolen moments together, but he had gone to the edge of the world to save her. If she could, she would do the very same thing for him now.

+++++

Rising from the water, Princess Mariko pulled Quinn’s lifeless body up onto the rocky shore and slumped down beside him. Laying back, she looked up at the blue sky, now devoid of the ominous black shadow from the Obsidian Ridge.

“I wish you could see it,” she said, taking hold of his hand. “I don’t think we ever saw the daylight together.”

Mariko felt a heaviness settle over her. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she looked at his slumped, silent body. Despite her best efforts, he was gone. They never had a chance.

Suddenly, Quinn sat straight up, spitting out water and gasping for air.

“Quinn!” Mariko’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest.

He rolled over onto his side, empting his lungs and stomach of liquid. “Yes, I heard you,” he said between gagging fits. “It’s quite lovely. The sky.”

“You’re alive!” shouted the princess.

After his heaving stopped, Quinn nodded. “Yes.” Struggling to get to his feet, he gabbed Mariko by the shoulder for balance. “Let’s go make sure everyone else is too.”

+

Spring returned to Erlkazar.

Xeries’s death had brought with it the end of his spell. The dried grasses and dead flowers awakened from their slumber. Within days of the Obsidian Ridge crashing from the sky, the Llorbauth valley was back in full bloom.

Quinn and Mariko stood in the middle of the easternmost courtyard, hand in hand, under a cherry blossom tree, finally able to give each other the public kiss they had been longing for. Captain Kaden and Evelyne looked on, and King Korox stood beside them, smiling. It had been the first time he had been happy in a long, long time.

More than five hundred people attended the wedding, and they applauded now, whistling and cheering for the newest couple of Erlkazar.

A group of bards played enchanted music as the king, his daughter, and his new son walked down from the altar to a long table set up with food and drink at the other end of the courtyard.

“Korox! Korox! I must have a word with you.”

The king’s moment of happiness was quickly ended by Lady Herrin and her bodyguards.

Sidling up, a plate of food in her hand, she jawed at the king between bites.

“Who is going to pay for all of this destruction?” she said, her words made less comprehensible by the piles of chewed meat in her mouth. “The marketplace was completely ruined by showers of obsidian. Who is going to pay for all of my ruined goods?”

“Lady Herrin,” said King Korox, “so good of you to come to the wedding.” He shook her greasy hand. “I think you know my new son, Quinn.”

Heating his name, Quinn turned away from his new wife, to see the king giving him a rather forced smile.

“Yes, of course I know your bodyguard,” said Lady Herrin. “Why you would let such a man marry your daughter—”

The king’s smile turned genuine as he interrupted her. “Oh, Quinn is no longer my bodyguard. He’s now my minister of trade. You will be dealing with him directly if you have any concerns you wish to bring to the court.” He pointed to the plate of food Lady Herrin had gripped in her hands. “Please enjoy yourself. If you will excuse me, I have a small matter that I must attend to.”

Stepping away from the annoying old merchant, the king slipped out of the courtyard and away from the mingling crowd. In a quiet, concealed corner, behind a large hedge and away from prying eyes, he rendezvoused with the man who would take Quinn’s place as his personal assassin.

“Have you found her?” he asked.

The man stepped out of the shadows, tugging on the tips of his moustache, his wide-brimmed hat at his side.

“Not yet, my lord,” replied Vasser. “But I will.”

The king nodded. “Good. Find her and kill her. Those are my orders.”

Vasser bowed with a practiced flair. “As you wish, my lord.”