Page 66 of Shadowbound

“The Heart isn’t meant to do anyone’s bidding,” I say, speaking up for the first time. “It’s only meant to restore balance and put things that have gone wrong, right.”

“Then it should have killed you when I told it to!” the GodKing snaps. “Filthy NightBorn witch!” He looks at Alaric. “It’s clear to me that your mind is gone, boy—you’ve been bewitched by this evil temptress!”

Alaric’s face is grim.

“Do not speak that way of my love,” he growls and his voice has gone inhumanly deep. His eyes are in flames as his Drake becomes agitated within him. Behind the throne, I see the GodKing’s councilors muttering uneasily.

But the GodKing doesn’t seem to notice any change in his loyal Paladin.

“I’ll speak how I fucking well please in my own throne room, boy!” he snarls. “How dare you bring this witch in here, pretending that you’ve got The Heart of the Eclipse when it’s nothing but a useless bauble with no real power?” He slaps at the chest again, his fingers hitting the purple surface of The Heart. “How dare you—hey!”

He stops his rant and looks at his hand, which seems to be stuck. His fingers are still on the shiny purple surface of The Heart and it’s clear that he’s trying to pull them away but they aren’t coming.

“It’s got me!” he shouts in a high, cracked voice. “Someone come and help me—it won’t let go!”

“Be still—just let it calm down,” Alaric advises, but even as he speaks, something strange is happening to the GodKing.

I take a step closer to see what it is, because I don’t believe my eyes. It looks to me like the skin of his hand—the one touching The Heart—is withering. The flesh is literally wasting away, showing his bones beneath. And soon the effect starts spreading up his arm.

“My Lord?” Alaric asks, his eyes wide with alarm. “What’s happening?”

He tries to pull the chest away, but it seems he can’t. He appears to be frozen in place almost as much as the GodKing.

“Don’t try to move!” I shout to him. The air of the room is thick with magic—The Heart of the Eclipse is moving now, doing its work and it won’t take kindly to any interference.

But Alaric is still tense, his big body as taut as a bowstring.

“It’s killing him!” he exclaims, his voice filled with anguish. “I never meant for this to happen!”

And indeed, the strange wasting of the GodKing is continuing apace. Now I can see the bones in his forearm as the flesh shrivels up and wastes away. Then the upper bone of his arm becomes visible, then his shoulder…

“No, no!” he howls, still yanking futilely at his hand, which is firmly stuck to The Heart. “No, it’s supposed to make me live forever and vanquish all my foes! Not this—not this!”

“I’m sorry, my Lord!” Alaric’s face is filled with torment and despite the despicable things the GodKing tried to do using The Heart, I still feel for my Paladin. It’s hard to see him so upset as his liege lord, whom he’s been loyal to all his life, literally wastes away right in front of him.

“This isn’t right—it isn’t fair!” the GodKing cries. “Councilors, help me! Someone get me some help!” The wasting magic has started on his other side now and both arms are nothing but useless, dry black bones.

I finally understand what’s happening, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The Heart is taking back the time the GodKing stole. Just as it restored balance by giving the Queen back the years that had been taken from her, it’s now reclaiming all the years the ruler of Solaris took.

The councilors come out from behind the throne, but they seem too frightened to do anything. They just stare at the wasting GodKing with wide eyes and frozen mouths.

“Do something, you fools!” the GodKing raves. Soon he won’t be able to speak at all. The wasting is creeping up his neck. “Stop this blasted thing before it’s too late!”

“My GodKing, we know not how!” one exclaims, wringing his hands.

“The priest—bring a priest!” another shouts.

A priest is brought in hurriedly—a young man with a shaved head wearing a long brown robe. But when he sees what’s happening to the GodKing, his eyes go wide and his mouth opens and shuts, like a fish gasping for water.

“Do something!” one of the councilors exclaims, shoving him. “Say a prayer—stop this evil!”

“Our father, who art in Heaven,” the priest babbles. But he gets no further for the process speeds itself up. All in an instant, the GodKing’s legs are nothing but bones and his howling face has become a grinning skull.

He’s gone.

“He’s gone,” one of the councilors whispers, echoing my thoughts. “By the Old Gods—the old bastard is really, finally gone!”

There’s a shocked silence for a moment and then all the councilors break into cheers!

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