Page 81 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
“Thalric!” Ryllen shouts. He raises his hands and casts a blast of brilliant blue magic. It surrounds me like a shield, rising before me just before the witch’s power strikes.
A snarl curls her lips as she sends another powerful burst of magic, but Ryllen blocks it again.
“Go!” he yells, his arms shaking as he struggles to maintain the magic barrier. “Finish it!”
Rage burns through me as I spread my wings wide and launch forward, claws slicing through the air.
The witch meets me with a wave of her hand; a blast of green magic erupting between us, slamming into my chest.
I crash to the ground, the impact sending cracks through the stone. The heat sears my skin, the scent of burnt flesh thick in the air.
Ryllen shouts, his magic colliding with hers—blue and green light flaring, merging, hissing as he holds back her dark powers.
I push to my feet, lungs burning, and leap again. My claws catch her arm, tearing through her flesh. She releases a piercing shriek, and her hands lash out, slamming against my chest.
A terrified scream rips from Malvara’s throat as I strike, my claws piercing her chest as I drive her back against her iron throne.
With the last of her strength, she conjures fire in her palms, gripping my arm and searing my flesh.
White hot pain flares through me, the smell of scorched magic and blood filling the air, but I refuse to let her go as my claws sink even deeper into her chest and pierce her heart.
“Foolish beast,” she rasps, as I pull back my hand. “You think you’ve won? Even if you kill me,” she hisses, eyes shining with madness, “she will not wake without sacrifice.”
Her hand rises weakly to her throat, clutching the green crystal. It pulses beneath her palm. “The bargain was sealed in this,” she hisses, lips twisting in a ghastly smile. “To break it, a life must be given for a life. Your love for her is your downfall. Devotion etched deep into the heart is the only payment that can save her.”
Her eyes glint with cruel satisfaction as her voice begins to fade. “If you want her to live, you must trade your life for hers, stone-born. But if you spare me… offer up some of your lifeforce to restore my body”—she gasps, struggling to breathe—“you don’t have to sacrifice yourself to awaken your cherished one.”
I narrow my eyes. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
She somehow manages an evil grin. “You’ll have to trust me.”
Traitorous hope burns in my chest even as my mind urges caution. “What’s to stop you from trying to hurt her again?”
Malvara hesitates and that’s all I need to know that she is lying. If I allow her to live, Aurora will never be safe. I release her and step back, standing beside Ryllen.
The witch’s eyes burn with anger as she snarls. “Not such a fool after all then,” she confirms my suspicions. “You’ll sacrifice your future for hers. And when you turn to stone, I will still win.” Her head falls back, and she goes still as the light fades from her eyes.
I rip the necklace from around her neck and gaze down at the glowing green gem in my palm. “Do you think it will work?” I ask Ryllen. “My life for Aurora’s?”
He reaches forward, his hand hovering above the stone. Closing his eyes, he bows his head in concentration as a faint blue tendril of light threads from his fingers to the stone.
As soon as it touches it, he inhales sharply and steps back. His eyes are wide as they meet mine. “This is ancient magic.”
“Will it work?” I ask, impatient to know the answer.
He nods shakily. “I believe it will.”
“A life for a life.” The truth burns through me like molten stone. “Then let the law take mine.”
“But you’ll die.” Ryllen’s voice cracks with disbelief. “There has to be something else… something we’re not seeing. Maybe if I try to use the stone… perhaps my magic could shield me.”
I shake my head. “Devotion etched deep into the heart,” I echo Malvara’s words. “It mirrors Maribel’s counterspell logic—the old laws demand payment.”
I meet his gaze. “Don’t you see? You are the prince bound by prophecy, and I am the devotion etched in stone. We were destined to save her together.”
“No,” he protests, desperation in his tone. “There must be another way.”
“Thereisno other way, Ryllen. I am stone-born. My love for Aurora is carved deep into my very soul—a heart made of stone. That cannot be coincidence.”
