Chapter 130

Chapter 130: Chapter 130

"She’s working for Varek!" Darian shouted from above. "He paid her to stop you!"

"Varek’s gold is merely a convenience." Morgath’s smile widened. "My true payment will be watching the last Moonblood heir die screaming."

She raised her hand, and the shadows came alive.

Dark tendrils shot from her fingers not the simple chains she normally used before on other people, but writhing serpents of pure shadow that lunged at Nyra with impossible speed. Nyra tried to summon her silver light, but the witch’s sorcery crashed against her power like a tidal wave, smothering it, crushing it, forcing it back down into the depths of her soul.

Luna! Nyra screamed in her mind. Luna, help me!

I’m trying! Her wolf’s voice was strained, distant, as if calling from very far away. Her magic is too strong! It’s blocking me!

The shadow serpents wrapped around Nyra’s arms, her legs, her throat. They lifted her off the ground and slammed her against the stone wall. She gasped, the breath driven from her lungs.

"Did you think your power would save you?" Morgath laughed a horrible, rasping sound. "You are a child playing with forces you don’t understand. The Moonblood magic is ancient, yes. Powerful, yes. But you haven’t mastered it. You’ve barely scratched the surface. And I have had centuries to perfect my craft."

She flicked her wrist, and Nyra was hurled across the chamber. She crashed into a stack of crates, wood splintering around her. Pain exploded through her body. She tried to rise, but the shadows were on her again, pinning her down.

"Nyra!" Corvin tried to reach her, but three soldiers intercepted him. He cut one down, then another, but the third drove him back, his sword a blur of steel.

"Your father tried to protect you," Morgath said, advancing on Nyra with slow, deliberate steps. "He sealed your power away, hoping to hide you from the world. But seals can be broken. Power can be awakened. And when I sensed your awakening at the showcase—that glorious surge of Moonblood magic—I knew my time had finally come."

"You’re insane," Nyra gasped.

"I am patient. There’s a difference." Morgath knelt beside her, her dark eyes glittering with malice. "I’m going to enjoy this. Slowly. Over hours. I’m going to strip away your power layer by layer, and then I’m going to strip away your flesh. And when you’re finally dead when the last of the Moonblood line is extinguished, I will send your broken body to your uncle as a gift."

She raised her hand. Dark energy crackled around her fingers—

And an axe flew through the air and embedded itself in her shoulder.

Morgath screamed a high, piercing sound that shattered the remaining windows. The shadow serpents dissolved. Nyra gasped as the pressure on her chest released.

"You picked the wrong fight, witch!"

Ragnar Blackfang strode through the shattered doorway, his second axe already in his hand, his scarred face a mask of cold fury. Behind him came Finn, his sword drawn. Marek, his axe swinging. Roderic, silent and deadly. And behind them—

Selene and Valeria.

Nyra stared at them. Selene’s amber eyes met hers for one electric moment, and something passed between them—not friendship, not forgiveness, but a temporary, grudging truce.

"We’re not here for you," Selene shouted over the din. "We’re here because Varek needs to be stopped."

"Whatever the reason, I’ll take it!" Nyra scrambled to her feet and grabbed her fallen blade.

The battle resumed with renewed ferocity.

Ragnar’s group cut through the soldiers like a scythe through wheat, their sudden arrival throwing Varek’s forces into momentary disarray. Darian rallied the remaining resistance fighters, pressing the advantage. Finn fought with a wild grin despite the blood streaming from a cut on his forehead. Marek was a wall of muscle and steel, holding the left flank against overwhelming odds. Roderic moved through the chaos like a ghost, his blade finding throats and hearts with surgical precision.

Selene and Valeria fought back-to-back. Selene’s sword was elegant and precise, each strike a killing blow. Valeria’s crossbow bolts found their marks with deadly accuracy, dropping soldiers before they could reach the defensive line.

But Morgath was still standing.

She pulled Ragnar’s axe from her shoulder with a snarl, black blood dripping from the wound. "You dare? You insignificant, pathetic—"

She raised both hands, and the shadows exploded outward.

The blast was devastating. Dark energy rippled through the mill in a shockwave, hurling fighters from both sides across the chamber. Finn was thrown into a stack of crates, wood splintering around him. Marek slammed into the wall and crumpled. Ragnar was lifted off his feet and hurled through the air, crashing into the great grinding stone with a sickening crunch Jasper and Maureen landed in an unexpected place, Selene and Valeria were thrown backward, landing hard on the blood-slicked stone.

Only Corvin remained standing. He had thrown himself in front of Nyra at the last moment, taking the brunt of the blast on his own body. He staggered but didn’t fall.

"Corvin!" Nyra screamed.

"Stay behind me," he growled, his voice strained with pain. Blood dripped from his nose, his ears, the corner of his mouth. But his whiskey-dark eyes were blazing with defiance.

Morgath laughed. "The alchemist. The serpent. You love her, don’t you? I can smell it on you. The desperation. The devotion. It’s pathetic." She raised her hand again. "Let me put you out of your misery."

The shadow bolt struck Corvin square in the chest.

He flew backward, crashing through the wooden railing of the upper platform and slamming into the stone wall beyond. He didn’t get up.

"NO!" Nyra’s scream was raw, primal. She reached for her power—reached for the silver light with everything she had—

But Morgath’s sorcery was still pressing down on her, smothering her, suffocating her. The light flickered and died.

"You see?" Morgath smiled. "You’re nothing without your power. Just a frightened little girl playing at being a queen."

Nyra struggled to her feet. Her body was broken. Her friends were down. Corvin wasn’t moving. But she raised her dagger anyway.

"I don’t need my power to kill you," she snarled.

"Brave words." Morgath raised her hand for the killing blow.

And then the horn sounded again—but this time, it was different. This time, it was a retreat.

Darian’s voice rang out across the mill. "Fall back! Everyone, fall back! There’s a tunnel beneath the mill—it leads to the river! Go!"

The remaining resistance fighters scrambled toward the back of the mill. Ragnar, injured but still standing, grabbed Finn and hauled him toward the tunnel. Marek limped after them, supporting a wounded civilian. Roderic and Jasper covered their retreat, their blade a blur of silver.

Selene and Valeria were already moving. Selene paused at the tunnel entrance and looked back at Nyra.

"Come on! We have to go!"

"I’m not leaving Corvin!"

"He’s still alive! I saw him move! But he won’t stay that way if we don’t get out of here!"

Nyra looked at Corvin’s crumpled form. He was stirring—barely. His hand twitched. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and dazed.

She ran to him, grabbing his arm and hauling him upright. "You’re not dying on me," she hissed. "Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to die."

"Wouldn’t... dream of it," he rasped.

They stumbled toward the tunnel together, Nyra half-carrying Corvin, his blood soaking into her clothes. Morgath’s laugh echoed behind them.

"Run, little princess! Run as far as you can! I will find you again. And next time—next time, there will be no escape!"

The tunnel was dark and narrow, carved through the bedrock beneath the mill. It led to the river, as Darian had promised—a swift, cold current that would carry them away from the slaughter. Nyra plunged into the water, dragging Corvin with her. The others followed.

Behind them, the old mill burned. The bodies of the fallen—resistance fighters and soldiers alike—lay scattered across the blood-soaked stone. And on a hill overlooking the valley, Lord Varek watched the flames with cold satisfaction.

"They escaped," his captain reported. "The princess and her companions. They used a tunnel beneath the mill."

"Of course they did." Varek’s voice was calm, almost amused. "It doesn’t matter. Their resistance is shattered. Their fighters are dead or scattered. And the witch—" He glanced at Morgath, who had materialized beside him, her dark robes billowing in the wind. "The witch did her job. The princess’s power is useless against her."

"For now," Morgath said. "She grows stronger every day. If she learns to master her abilities—"

"Then we’ll kill her before she does. You’ll have another chance."

"I’d better." Morgath’s dark eyes glittered. "I didn’t wait centuries for the last Moonblood heir to slip through my fingers."

She vanished in a column of black smoke. Varek turned back to the burning mill, his smile widening.

"Let her run. Let her hide. She’ll surface eventually. And when she does—" He laughed softly. "When she does, I’ll be waiting."

The river carried them downstream for miles before they finally dragged themselves onto the bank.

They were a ragged, wounded group—what was left of the resistance. Of the forty fighters who had gathered at the mill, fewer than a dozen had survived. Darian had made it out, along with a handful of his most loyal soldiers. Ragnar was injured but alive. Finn and Marek were battered but breathing. Selene and Valeria had slipped away during the chaos, their temporary alliance already dissolved.

And Corvin—

Nyra knelt beside him on the riverbank, her hands pressed against the wound on his chest. The shadow bolt had burned through his tunic and into his skin, leaving a dark, weeping gash that refused to close. His breathing was shallow. His pulse was weak.

"Stay with me," she whispered. "Please. Stay with me."

His eyes fluttered open. "Nyra..."

"I’m here. I’m right here."

"The witch—"

"Is gone. For now. But you’re going to be fine. Do you hear me? You’re going to be fine."

He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "You’re a terrible liar."

"I’m an excellent liar. I fooled an entire academy for months."

"You fooled everyone except me." He coughed, blood flecking his lips. "I saw through you from the beginning."

"Then you know I’m not lying now." She pressed harder against the wound. "You’re going to survive this. I’m not losing anyone else."

Ragnar limped over, his arm in a makeshift sling. "We need to keep moving. Varek’s soldiers will be searching the river. It’s only a matter of time before they find us."

"Then we find shelter first. Corvin needs treatment."

"There’s a cave system about an hour from here," Darian said, consulting a waterlogged map. "We can hide there. Regroup. Figure out our next move."

Nyra nodded. She helped Corvin to his feet, supporting his weight on her shoulder. He was heavy, and she was exhausted, and every muscle in her body screamed in protest.

But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. There were people depending on her. There was a throne to reclaim. There was a witch to kill.

But first, she had to survive.