Page 136 of An Archer's Redemption

Then blood flowered across her dress.

I withdrew the dagger, then dragged it across her throat.

She gasped for air.

Her hand flew to her throat and came away slick with blood.

Life poured out of her weakening body.

I tore the crown from her head as she fell to her knees, then stood above her, crown in hand.

She looked up. Pain and fury flooded her eyes.

I closed my eyes, opened them, then nodded once.

Eyes wild, Irina looked about for what had changed—then screamed at the gold and silver lines emblazoned in the marble surrounding her.

Terror added its thrill to her bellows.

Then I did the unthinkable.

I placed the crown just inside the outer circle, and, using Enhanced Strength, I shattered one of the bloody diamonds.

Irina’s eyes widened as the form of a man rose like mist from the shattered gem. He lunged at me, but the circle flared, and the man’s hands slapped against an invisible barrier.

I stepped into the circle and crushed a second stone, releasing a woman in tanned leathers. Her form flitted about the circle, confused, pressing palms to the invisible wall, a prisoner trapped in yet another cell.

Again, I smashed.

Another spirit appeared.

Four, then five, six, and finally the seventh.

Prince Justin’s innocent face glowed with ethereal light as he drifted to stare down at Irina’s bleeding form. The other spirits joined him, forming a circle around the broken, bleeding woman.

The man, the first to emerge from his stone, turned a wretched gaze toward me.

“What do you want from us? Set us free!” His voice was metal against stone, a screech of pain and loathing.

In that moment, I knew this was no longer a man but a fiend bent on hatred and vengeance.

“I grant each of you rest,” I said, my voice that of steel, folded and strengthened by fire and mallet. “But only if you help me banish this abomination. Until she is vanquished, no one will be free.”

The spirit laughed. “Why would I care if you’re free, boy?”

My tunic flared to life.

The Phoenix leaped from my chest, an apparition of the mighty bird swelling until it filled the chamber. It turned its beak toward the spirits and roared so loudly I fell to my knees and covered my ears.

“BECAUSE I COMMAND IT!” Órla’s voice shook the already shattered hall.

Waves of Compulsion magnified a thousandfold by the Phoenix flowed from my core.

Seven spirits streaked toward me and crashed against the barrier of the circle. They clawed and scratched.

They wailed in anger and pain.

I lifted my chin, and Light burst from my chest. It felt as if my own spirit had joined the fray. Shimmering magic cloaked the spirits, transforming each into a beacon of white.

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