Paladin.
Freaking paladin!
My brain races past the rest of my body. My feet press against the hard floor, but I feel nothing. Nothing but the jarring truth crashing against my mind.
I am a paladin.
My mother enters my thoughts, and I can’t help but smile at thinking about what she’d say.
Naxxorius flicks his wrist at Maldridge’s cell. Pop! The barrier dissipates.
Scythe’s body lies on the ground in a pool of dark, glistening blood.
“Ah,” Naxxorius glides over the corpse. “Such a shame, really. Tied up in all this mess.” He motions to Danny. “At least you got your brother back, yes?”
My brother. I feel a pang of selfishness clench my heart as I divert my attention from Scythe, and move into my brother’s cell. He’s lying on the cement slab, still in the same position I saw him when I first arrived in the Prison Ward, which now seems like centuries ago.
“Danny,” I whisper.
I run over to him, throw myself onto his warm body, and run my fingers through his messy brown hair. He remains asleep, a serene look spread across his face.
“He will come around,” Maldridge says, from behind. “Valkryn gave him something to sleep.” He turns to Naxxorius. “Speaking of…”
“She won’t be a problem. For now. But you know she doesn’t stay down long.”
“What about Scythe?” The words taste bitter on my tongue.
Maldridge glances at his body. “Genevieve.” His eyes crease as he smiles at me, a warm glow radiating from his aged face. “Do you know what a paladin is?”
The confusion at his question must be apparent on my face, because he doesn’t wait for a response.
“A holy warrior. Champion of light. Bringer of life. Genevieve, you are a paladin.” He looks at Scythe’s body. “You have the power to defeat death.”
“I…what?”
He grabs my hand and guides me to the outside of Danny’s cell. His touch is warm against my clammy skin.
“Kneel, Genevieve.”
I hesitate, my gazed fixed on Scythe, just inches from my feet.
“It’s okay.” He helps me to the ground. “Now place your hands on his chest.”
My hands tremble as I reach out and place my fingertips atop his bloodstained shirt. My heart races inside my throat as I push down against his chest. There is no warmth, no heartbeat. No life. His eyes are closed, and his face expressionless.
The thought flickers through my mind as to whether this serenity could be the most peace he has had in some time. With death, there is no pain, no suffering, no heartbreak. At its worst, there is nothing. And at its best?
“What am I doing?” I whisper.
“Your mother asked me the same question.” Maldridge’s words slice across my ears like a steel sword.
I feel my hands grow warm against Scythe’s chest. A golden glow radiates from my palms, spreading across Scythe’s body like a rippling wave. The dazzling sparks illuminate around us, and I squint as their intensity grows. The adrenaline rushes through my body. I feel my blood is on fire, coursing through my veins like gasoline.
“Come on,” I hiss, through gritted teeth, my eyes stinging, my arms numb. “Come on!”
An explosion of white light, followed by the steady motion of a chest rising beneath my hands.
I open my eyes and look down. Scythe is staring back at me, with a weak smirk.
“Hey, Genevieve.”
I open my mouth to speak, but can’t find the words.
And then Scythe’s lips are pressed against mine.
For the first time since we’ve met, the air around him is not chilled. His lips are not frostbitten. His skin not pale.
His warm kiss penetrates deep into my bones, as though I’m being caressed by sun-touched silk. I close my eyes, and I am surrounded by nothing but bliss.
“Truly an enchanting moment, yes?” Naxxorius coos, from nearby.
I open my eyes as Scythe pulls away.
“Are we finished now, ah?”
Scythe stands, pushing his hair back as he looks down at his bloodied shirt.
“What the hell happened?” He steps away from the pool of blood on the floor.
“I’m a paladin.” I can’t help but laugh. “And I just resurrected you.”
Pretty sure he thinks I’m joking.
“Wait…but Valkryn?”
“Preoccupied at the moment,” Naxxorius says. “And unless you’re willing to deal with her soon, I would recommend we get moving.”
“Genevieve!”
My heart stops when I hear Jensen’s voice.
Seconds later, I’m wrapped in his embrace. I shift as he holds me, a deep pit rising in my stomach.
Jensen pulls away and looks around.
He spots the blood on the floor. “Whoa! What’s going on?”
“Just asked the same thing,” Scythe says.
I become panic-stricken as I watch the two of them lock gazes.
“You look like you’ve been better.” Jensen points to Scythe’s shirt.
“I could say the same about you. You get choked out, or what?”
“It’s nothing.” Jensen rubs the purple bruise across his neck. “Who defeated the shadow mage?”
“That would be Naxxorius’s fine work,” Maldridge says.
“Magister!” Jensen bows. “I’m glad to see you’re okay.”
“Thank you, Mister Saint Clair.” Maldridge smiles back. “Let’s get you out of here so I can say the same.” He nods to Naxxorius, who conjures an access point.
“Jensen, go grab Genevieve’s brother.” Maldridge points to Scythe. “Please give the portal key to Genevieve. You’re going to come with me.”
“What? No way! I’m going back with Genevieve and—”
Maldridge holds up his hand. “There is no room for discussion here, Scythe. You are coming with me. Genevieve is in capable hands with Jensen. I’m sure you know this.”
Scythe growls under his breath, grasping the key. He hesitates before reaching out to me.
“Here,” he says.
My fingertips brush his warm hand as I grab the crystal.
“Thank you for your assistance, Naxxorius,” Maldridge says. “I appreciate your help.”
“You are one of the only people I charge no price for my services, Magister. But be warned, even I will have my limits eventually.”
“Duly noted.” Maldridge motions to Scythe. “Come along. We have a lot to do.”
“Where are we going?”
“To my hometown, Nottingwood. Naxxorius. If you will, please.”
“Wait!” Scythe says. “Genevieve.”
I hold my breath.
“Be good.”
With a flick of Naxxorius’s wrist, Maldridge and Scythe disappear.
“Ready?” Naxxorius turns towards us.
“Yeah.” Jensen returns from the cell, with Danny cradled in his arms. “Let’s go.”
I follow him over to the portal.
“Just pull the crystal apart,” he says, “twist it, and close it again.”
I hold my breath as I follow his instructions.
Naxxorius takes one final look around the Prison Ward before evaporating.
And then we’re gone.
a
The Dark Lady stares down at Valkryn’s crumpled body.
“They’re gone, Voidress,” an approaching guard says, in a defeated tone. “Mengurion Maldridge seems to have escaped as well.”
Kingston stands beside the Dark Lady, his arms crossed. Silence paints the air.
The Prison Ward’s door opens, and two more guards rush in.
“My Lady, it’s true. The Magician is dead. And we found this.”
Kingston becomes rigid as the guard hands the Dark Lady one of the Magician’s inventions. She grabs it from him, watching the device emit white light as it whirls in her grasp.
“What is it?” Kingston says.
“Blaine’s lantern,” she replies. “It’s supposed to tell you what kind of Formulist somebody is.”
“So why’s it spinning like that?”
“Because the last sample he put in here was from a paladin.” The Dark Lady’s voice scathes. “Get Valkryn out of this hole and clean up Fortrunner’s lab.” She pushes the lantern into Kingston’s arms before turning to leave. “And make sure you kill the guards who let them escape, if they aren’t already dead.”
Her presence cloaks the Prison Ward in a ghastly chill, even after the door shuts behind her.
a
The rattle resonates through my teeth and into my skull as my feet slam down on the metal platform. It takes a moment for my clouded vision to focus, the bright stars and black dots slowly fading from my view, allowing the church’s nave to morph into appearance.
Jensen stands next to me, with Danny still in his arms.
“Are you okay?” he says.
I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”
An eerie quiet drapes the old church in a dampened shroud. I realize I’m no longer the same person that I was when I last left this church just hours before.
“I feel like we have a lot to talk about.” I chuckle.
He sighs and stares down at the makeshift portal on the floor.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He shakes his head. “I don’t even know what happened tonight.”
“Yeah…”
“Let’s get you two home.” He nods down at Danny. “He’ll wake up in the morning and won’t remember anything.”
As we near the church’s exit, he turns around and outstretches his hand. A dazzling fireball illuminates the church’s walls as it launches towards the Magician’s portal. It explodes into a fiery inferno, the flames grasping at the nearby pews and licking across the aged wood.
“We can’t run the risk of letting any part of his magic here survive.” Jensen’s voice is dark.
And as the church’s shadows dance across his face, I see it washed in a forlorn expression.
After we lay Danny in the backseat of my car, and I get behind the wheel, I take one more look at the old church, engulfed in flames that burn against the midnight sky.
We just destroyed a church.
I’ve seen more fires and destruction in the last week than in my entire life.
What next?
I push the thought out of my mind and keep driving.
But really.
What next?