Page 4 of Madness of Her Mages

“Youarethe darkness!” I roared.

No,he whimpered, his denial searing through my mind like flaming arrows.

“You destroyed my family,” I cried out, “but you will not break me!” My twin and I had survived a fortnight in a sewer while blood rained down on our heads and rats threatened to gnaw off our toes. The screams of our family echoed through my mind, shattering my heart, reverberating my soul, and still I rose from the devastation and destruction. I let him break me once. Nobody would break me again.

He continued to flail and kick.You think your court is shattered now? This is nothing compared to what’s coming.

With a roar, I launched tendrils of burning magic into the water, boiling him alive.

His agonized screams echoed in my head, but I held tight to my magic, refusing to let go even when steam and smoke rose from the water, and after he went eerily still and the flesh separated from his bones.

HE’S DEAD! HE’S DEAD! The dark mage is dead!

How?

Princess Malvolia killed him!

Princess Malvolia? She’s not dead?

No, and she’s Queen Malvolia now.

Heaving a shuddering breath, I summoned the last of my strength and pushed myself up from the floor. I hadn’t remembered falling. Servants helped me into a chair, giving me bread and wine. I ate without tasting, dry crumbs sticking to the roof of my mouth no matter how much wine I drank. It was then I realized the bread was stale, and I wondered if the cooks had all been killed in Djall’s purge. No matter. I continued to shove the bread into my mouth, knowing I needed nourishment after using so much magic.

So much magic.

I looked at my burned and blistered fingertips, hardly registering the pain.

I killed him. I killed Djall.

I leaned back in the chair, recognizing the red satin embroidery on the cushions. My grandmother’s favorite chair. It had survived the destruction! A tear slipped over my eyelid as I drew circles along the wooden roses inlaid into the armrests. An auspicious sign that the chair had survived. I would put it in our throne room, always having a piece of our grandmother with us while Flora and I ruled together.

Servants bustled about the room, sweeping up glass, shoving the crying whores into the hall, carrying away the entire tub with Djall’s cooked flesh and bones.

I mindlessly chewed while hardly believing I’d survived.

I killed him. I survived a battle with the dark mage.

The servants gasped, parting and looking at me for protection when two hooded mages walked into the room.

Selig’s eyes were eclipsed in shadow as he scowled down at me. “Is it done?”

I absently nodded. “It is.”

“Thank the elements.” Selig’s shoulders sagged.

His brother pulled down his hood, his gaze darting about the room. “Where’s Flora?”

I heaved a trembling breath. “Still in the sewers in an alcove beneath the green witch’s chamber.”

“I will send soldiers to fetch her,” Selig said.

My shoulders sagged in relief as more tears threatened at the backs of my eyes. “And you must find a green witch to heal her. She’s very sick.”

Thorin puffed up his chest. “I will personally see to Flora’s care.”

I cleared my throat as the mind spinner turned to go. “Thank you, Thorin, for your help.” I owed him mine and Flora’s lives. I wouldn’t have been able to draw close enough to Djall if Thorin hadn’t altered his memories.

“You’re very welcome,” Thorin said with a sweeping bow. “Thank you for accepting my proposal. I promise to be a devoted and loving husband to Flora.”

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