“I will destroy you!” Aldrik proclaimed, suddenly looking behind him. “Za, Sehra!”

An arrow with Za’s fletching pierced Victor’s barrier. Runes like Vhalla had seen in the North spread out from the arrowhead and fractured the crystal-magic infused ice. Aldrik’s flame burst through behind it, shattering what had kept him out.

Vhalla rolled away as Aldrik lunged, an inferno. She clenched her fists, feeling for scraps of her magic. She was still exhausted, and the abuse of opening the barrier was raw, but she wasn’t letting herself sit helpless.

“You damn the world for a throne!” Aldrik shouted.

“Not for a throne.” Victor dodged a flaming fist and shifted the air around him, the illusion hiding his movement as he got the upper hand on Aldrik’s next attack. “For the world, for our world. It will be a new order; the Commons will finally see that we are not ones to be put beneath their feet to lift them higher in status. Never will a sorcerer be mocked or feel the need to hide. No, our magic comes from the Gods themselves! Commons will kneel before us and cower at our wrath.”

Vhalla’s eyes fell on the axe. She scrambled to her feet and reached out a hand, summoning the wind to bring it to her.

Another arrow pierced the air and sunk into her shoulder. Vhalla stumbled and fell, her magic faltering in the shock of pain. Vhalla turned to see Za notching another arrow from farther back in the caverns. The woman was shooting to kill.

“Traitor!” Aldrik turned his fire to the Northern woman.

Sehra held up a hand and blocked the flame with a glittering of sigils in the air.

Victor capitalized on the confusion, grabbing the axe for himself. Vhalla struggled to her feet, ripping the arrow from her shoulder with a cry. Victor moved before Aldrik, Sehra, or Za could turn their attention back to their real enemy.

The axe cut effortlessly through her, severing Vhalla from shoulder to sternum. She coughed up blood, spitting it onto Victor. The axe shone brilliantly, as if satisfied its purpose was finally being fulfilled.

The crystals that Victor had carefully placed on the floor sparked to life, and the minister gripped her, holding her impaled on the weapon. Vhalla blinked blearily, blood pouring from the mortal wound. Aldrik had said she would die.

Magic lit up Victor’s arm, arcing from axe to crown. It was the same feeling as the barrier, a leeching, a pull. But this time, it was on her magic itself. Victor drained her of the well of power that existed within her. He siphoned it off, storing it into the crown that shone brightly on his head.

By the time the axe finally dimmed, Vhalla was one shade away from death, and he dropped her husk to the floor. The crystal weapon turned dark, like obsidian, and fractured under its own weight. The room was alight, every crystal shining brightly in the same hum as Victor’s crown.

“It is done,” Victor spoke in the aftermath, his words echoing through her fading consciousness. “It is done!”

Aldrik raced to her side, scooping her up into his arms. Vhalla’s head rolled against his shoulder, unable to support it any longer.

“Flee, flee!” Victor laughed, picking up a crystal. He crushed it in his fist, the magic coursing through his flesh with a flash of light. The caverns yielded themselves to him. “But there’s nowhere you can hide!”

The large stone doors began to close, and Aldrik slipped through them, leaving Victor behind. Vhalla blinked blearily, the world racing around her.

“Sehra.” Za supported the magically exhausted princess, calling her name.

Aldrik ignored them and continued for the exit.

A loud explosion burst from behind them as Victor emerged from the doors without effort. Aldrik stumbled and slid behind a crystal, holding her to him.

“Aldrik, I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . .” she sputtered.

“Quiet,” he begged with terror-filled eyes.

Vhalla watched as he grimaced and gripped the crystal next to him. His eyes flashed an unnerving red as Aldrik used crystal magic to build a stone cocoon around them. Vhalla closed her eyes, leaning against her prince for what she expected to be the last time.

The crystal shone as Victor departed, the magic fleeing as if being drawn into its master. A deep rumbling began to echo up from the depths of the caverns. The crystals’ brilliance began to fade, spiderweb fractures overcoming their pristine surfaces.

“Vhalla, don’t do this.” Aldrik pleaded, ignoring the world ending around them. “I need you. Don’t leave me, my lady, my love.”

She didn’t respond, and the prince opened his mouth to let out the sound of his heart breaking.

THICK FURS WERE piled atop Vhalla, and bandages were wound tight around her chest and shoulder. There was pain, but none too great, and sleep sat heavy upon the tops of her closed eyelids. She stirred in the hazy dawn she should not have been able to greet, pulled from sleep by the long fingers weaving themselves gently through her hair.

Aldrik stared down at her. A silent, relieved breath huffed across her face as a disbelieving smile crossed his mouth. His warm fingers stroked down to hold her cheek. He leaned forward.

It was a dream. She had died and walked in the faraway lands.

His lips pressed firmly upon her forehead. They were hot and soft, and his breath ruffled her hair as his body shifted closer to hers beneath the blankets. It was too wonderful a feeling to be real.

She forced together her last memories. The crystal caverns, the fruition of Victor’s plans, Aldrik’s rush to her side. Vhalla inhaled sharply and felt an aching in her ribs. The wound that severed her from shoulder to chest, the wound he had foretold would kill her. Vhalla remembered the warmth of his body holding her as she slipped away from the land of the living.