Cordray’s dreams were blurry and strange. There were swirling colors and shapes that seemed to represent people, but didn’t look a thing like them. He heard voices that echoed down from the heavens, but couldn’t connect the voices to actual language until he strained to pay attention.
The tune of the voice was easy to pick out – Malaura had that way about her. When her words started to funnel down and put themselves in proper order, Cord stiffened. “Mine! He slaughtered too many people to walk free. You’ll let me have him, or I’ll come after you both!” She didn’t sound her usual cruel and calculating; she sounded almost drunk, her speech slurring.
Cordray’s heart seized in confusion. His lips parted to offer up a protest to the universe for messing with him so cruelly. Malaura died. She was on the ground when last I left. The current I hit her with had to have been strong enough.
“You’re in no position to make bargains. Let him go, or you die. Are you limping? Is the great Malaura actually displaying weakness to us common folk?”
Cordray rallied at the sound of Benjamin’s voice. Though he didn’t particularly care for the fact that the stoic guard came with Rory as part of the package deal, in that moment, he knew he would gladly build the man a spare bedroom on his cabin if only Benjamin could get him out of this mess unscathed.
“Wake up, Cord!”
Cordray opened his eyes, but the world swam at a sickening pace. The colors and shapes began to blur into dripping lumps of clay that all seemed to want something from him. He felt his heels skip over rocks, and realized he was being dragged. Sharp nails dug into his armpits, piercing his skin and rousing him faster than the strongest coffee. The evening sky greeted him with a hearty cheer of “Get up and run!” so he tried his best to comply. His legs felt weighted and his arms clumsy, but he had one thing going for him that didn’t require much effort on his part. Cord was heavy, and thick with muscle. It didn’t take much for him to heft his body out of her grip, landing himself perched on three limbs on the side of the freeway.
Remus and Benjamin ran forward, the latter with his knife drawn and murder glowing in his eyes. Cord didn’t understand how it was that she was upright, and well enough to drag him ten whole meters from the car he’d stolen fair and square. He’d electrocuted her with enough volts to make smoke billow from her parted crimson lips. There was no way he hadn’t killed her.
Fear lit him up from the inside when the thought crossed his mind that perhaps he wasn’t powerful enough to take down such a formidable foe. For all the interest Remus had shown in cultivating Cord’s magic, praising him for its strength, Malaura had survived his best attempt.
Malaura was livid and growing desperate. “We have as much right to magic as you do! I won’t stop until every Lethal knows the full extent of their power! My brother took my kingdom from me, but see? They flock to me, even when I have no crown!”
“Where are they now?” Remus countered, his chin raised in defiance.
Her drunkenness was painted with the brush of sweetness, as if she loved Remus without reservation, forgiving his betrayal. “Oh, my little lost boy. My favorite student. You ran away from me after everything I did to help you. Ran straight into your brother’s clutches. How they must worship you after all I’ve taught you. It’s not too late to come back. I forgive you, Remus.”
Remus’ chin lowered, and a cold snarl twisted his features. “You kept me in the dark. The light of day has no place for someone like you!”
Her syrupy disposition melted into a chilling sneer. Malaura held out her palms to the men and began chanting something that made Cordray’s blood run cold. He didn’t know much about curses, but recognized a few of the Latin words easily enough. Everything in him screamed to stop her, to shove the words back in her mouth and stop her wicked influence once and for all. If nothing else, he needed to make sure she never cursed anyone again.
He had a hard time focusing his gaze, and worried about the damage a spark sent in the wrong direction could do. He grunted as he tried his best to rise to the occasion, but his strength was failing him, as it had so many times in the bunker.
Only this time, he wasn’t alone.
Remus began chanting a different string of syllables with the same Latin, and as he stalked toward his prey, the snow began to melt. It was curse against curse, and the bursts of nature around them started to rebel. The ice-bedecked bushes that dotted the side of the freeway suddenly burst into flames, lighting Remus’ path to her with a fury that seemed to emanate from his eyes. She’d messed with his family one too many times.
Today it would come to an end.
Cordray could see the determination. He could see the familial loyalty that was set in deep. He could see years of Remus torturing himself that he hadn’t been able to completely undo Malaura’s curse, but only offer a counter to it – putting Rory’s life on hold instead of saving it completely. He’d sacrificed half a decade of his life expectancy for the chance that his niece might be saved. Malaura had cost him five years, and who knows how many sleepless nights. He was ready for her this time, unwilling to give her an inch of ground to stand yet another curse upon.
Benjamin wasn’t willing to stand back and see how it all played out. He charged Malaura, a crazed fervor painting his eyes as he clutched his knife.
Despite her concentration on the spellwork, Malaura stomped her foot on the back of Cordray’s head, and Cordray knew she wasn’t just trying to keep him pinned down. She was readying to rake in his Lethal ability, to use it against Benjamin when they collided.
“No!” Cord howled, knowing that this last struggle would be the one that mattered most. With his last ounce of strength, he pushed up from the ground, faltering on his broken wrist as he did his best to part from her. It wasn’t graceful, nor was it painless, but Cordray finally shirked away just in time for Benjamin to crash into her form.
It was a breath and a gasp when Benjamin sank the blade into Malaura’s belly. She’d tormented his charge for too long, and no matter what, the battle would end this very night.
Relief flooded through Cordray when Remus fell to his knees as the last words of the curse he’d stored up for her died on his lips.
Cordray’s world went from chaos and terror to suddenly still. The snow fell around him, tickling the tips of his ears as if to ask him what all the fuss was about.
Remus was thorough with his confirmation of Malaura’s death, his hands pink from the icy freeze. “It’s over,” he breathed. “It’s finally over.”
Cordray’s elbows shook as his body began to give up. He cried out for Remus, but that seemed to be all his body was capable of at the moment. He collapsed face-first into the snow, his last ounce of lucidity dedicated to hoping they would bring him home to Rory.