Roane's uncle returns on the second day. I scramble to my feet, rush to meet him, and reach a hand to help him step over the rubble. Addamack appears beside me and does the same, but Ulrec refuses us both.

"I can't stay. The Swelling begins shortly. When the noise upstairs subsides, you can come through this entrance. I've piled soiled robes just here," he says motioning inside of the entrance. I peek past him. In the dim light, I see the pile of dirty and torn robes on a long wooden table.

"They are of dead brothers. The scent should help ward off any suspicion, human or otherwise," he says, gazing to the Faerie troops along the room. "The front of the hoods are sheer enough to see, but not enough to be seen. Still, keep your head down. Templars are meek and rarely raise their heads. When you leave here, go straight up the stairs in a line. The streets are chaos and you can disband then. Follow the crowd to the Palace courtyard. The ceremony will take place there." He runs his gaze along all of us. "Best of luck to all of you."

He makes to turn, but I grab his arm and stay him. "How is Roane?"

His lips press to a tight line. "He's coping, but please," he says to all of us, "I took on the burden of this darkness because I didn't have a choice. Roane may not have a choice, but he has a chance at something better. Free him, free our people."

"We are prepared to lay down our lives to honor our king's wishes," Addamack says with a certainty that chills my bones. I only hope Finvarra's wishes are truly the same as mine, to save Roane and not destroy him. He hates the trolls, but I pray with every fiber of me he's willing to put aside past differences and uphold his word to help us contain the darkness and end this vicious imprisonment of the trolls.

Urlec nods, and with a faint smile at both of us, goes back into the tunnel and through the room. He lowers a thick rug and shields the opening.

The minutes feel like hours. The hours feel like days. When silence finally stretches upstairs and the footsteps subside, we assemble before Addamack in front of the opening in the wall

"We stay together," he says, his voice a whisper. "And stay vigilant. Magics from the human realm intend to ambush the ceremony and once Roane is king, whoever kills him will inherit the darkness. The Magics cannot win, or else they'll be able to take the darkness out of the Nether. Our best hope is for Roane to resist the darkness. If the new bond is never established, we can free them from this horrible place."

Placing a hand on a soldier's shoulder, the rest follow suit and we form a web between us. "We pray our Father. We pray our Mother. Bless our spirits and our journey home."

My breath catches, remembering Roane praying the same. It hits me then. This is real, and everything comes down to this day. My eyes tear. But as the sentries lower their hands from my shoulders and I lower mine from theirs, I realize that yes, this is real. An entire race is close to freedom. Everything the Great Mistress worked for, fought for, died for is real. And we're close to finally achieving it, a world where magic isn't divided, where there is a place for us all.

I repeat the prayer because scared as I am, this is real and I'm ready.

One of Addamack's men pushes the heavy rug aside and we cross into the small room. Dusty, empty crates line the walls, and stacks of books are pushed against them.

One of Fae trails a hand along a dusty volume. Rubbing his fingers together, he opens the hardcover. A cloud of dust blows before his eyes, but as he waves it away, a small smile tips his lips. It's the first bit of emotion I've seen on their stoic faces.

"They are fairy tales from Forever," Addamack says, sliding on his dingy robe. "I wonder what they're doing abandoned down here."

"Roane said someone had tried to bring literature into the Nether, but they were killed." I look to the twisted symbols. Though not understanding them, sadness still finds my heart. "The king doesn't want hope for his people."

He holds out one of the soiled robes, the dirtiest one of the pile, and gives me a small smile. "Then I say it's time for a new king."

I nod, fully in agreement.

His face turns serious then. "Give me your blade."

I call Arrow to my hand and give it to him, handle first. He brings it to his lips and prays a Fae blessing over it, the words mournful and sad, yet with a touch of hope. White magic wraps around the blade like a thin mist that's then absorbed into the metal. 

He hands it to me and nods once. "Your weapon is blessed now; so long as you carry it with you, the darkness cannot harm you."

I take Arrow back, breathless at the gold carvings now engraved on the blade.

"You won't be able to call it back into your being, however, so be sure not to drop it. While convenient, the magic used to bind it to you is black magic and no longer compatible with the blade. But at least you will be protected against the darkness."

Addamack assigns two sentries to guard me, one in front of me and the other behind. He stands at the front of the line Urlec told us to form. Opening the door, he holds a hand up at this side while listening for movement in the hall. I gather deep breaths, hoping to tame my heart that pounds so hard, I'm sure it'll give us away.

He closes his fingers to a fist and in lowering it, steps out into the dim hall. We follow. Since we're supposed to keep our eyes down, I let his footsteps guide me as we climb the stone stairs three flights. The higher we ascended, the stronger the cheers and chants grow. They knot around my stomach, but with thoughts of Roane present in my mind, I push forward. I have to.

We exit the temple, and in blending with the crowd, go our separate ways. I stay with Addamack and another guard. Together, we move toward the open gates and into the courtyard. We find a spot right at the center, where hopefully Roane will see us.

The palace is a rugged structure, built into the mountain. Large columns flank the opening where stairs lead up to the black marble portico where the ceremony will take place, and beyond it, two massive doors. Black mist loops around the dingy marble, like a snake weaving its poison on the throne. The poison that will destroy Roane.

The large doors open and robed priests exit. Dead silence settles over the crowd of both hulking trolls and more delicate looking beings, like Roane who have yet to take on the ugliness that is the Darkness. The priest in front carries a staff upon which is a metal orb, while the others walk behind him and line the temple porch.

Sentries exit next, their eyes focused ahead. They stop at the foot of the stairs and face the crowd, their tattoos a warning of what awaits anyone who tries to dare pass them.

I gaze around, trying to make out Magics from the gathered crowd. Caleb was certain his uncle would infiltrate the Swelling, and I'm sure they've used some magic to shield their appearances. 

A low chant begins, baritones exhaling in one even note that charges the air with foreshadowing darkness. I turn my eyes to the stage and time feels to still. Roane emerges from the double doors, dressed in black pants and a billowing cape. His chest is bare, his tattoos visible. His map of shame spread across his body for everyone to see. What pains me most is the crown of thorns on his head.  

Accompanied by his brother Thyre and Ulrec at his sides, he keeps his brown eyes focused forward, cold and indifferent. The iciness cuts me to where it feels as though if he were to stand right in front of me, he wouldn't remember me at all. I try a breath, but it simply doesn't come. Fisting my hands at my sides, I force one anyway, the desire to run to him burning at the edges of my composure.

Roane stops beside the priest with the metal staff. Thyre and Ulrec stand at the end of the lined priests, joining their deep hums. Though Roane's gaze is still undisturbed, part of me seeks his eyes, wishing he would just look up for a second where he might see me and know that I'm here.

The chants die to a low, simmering hum. From the darkness within the palace, a hulking troll emerges, robed in crimson and golden robes. His beard is threaded with diamonds, rocks as bright as his seedy eyes that glow. His crown towers above Roanes, made of bones, black stones, and thorns. Age hunches him over, and he's not as lithe as Roane, but still, his confidence chokes me as he walks toward his son.

At center stage, the priest holding the staff speaks words in the broken language of the trolls and I don't understand. But with Roane standing on one side holding the staff and his father holding the other, I know it's a transfer of power. The priest quiets. Roane kneels down, and my pulse quickens. The priest removes Roane's crown and sets it on the empty pillow. He then removes the king's crown from his head and holds it over Roane's head.

Swirls of darkness materialize from thin air, twining around the dead branches and black leaves begin to grow. A wild wind tears through the crowd; as it passes, black smoke emanates from everybody around me, joining the collective black cloud that forms over the crown. It's what Vale said would happen. All of the bonds with their previous king were now broken, ready to be remade with Roane.

The fingers of evil scratch at my robe, but nothing leaves me. Thankfully, everyone is too rapt by the ceremony to notice. But I do, just as I note no darkness leaves Addamack, or another robed figure standing a few feet away...only they're not wearing the same robes me and the Fae are. Surely those are the troops Caleb's uncle smuggled down here in an attempt to overtake the Nether. I elbow Addamack and nod once in the direction of the hooded figure.  Addamack stiffens beside me, then trails his gaze along the crowd. We know how to tell them apart now and they become evident in the crowd.  There are so many more than us.

A screeching sound pierces the howls of the wind, all the darkness now collected above the crown. A priest holds a knife out to the king. He wraps his meaty fingers around it and takes hold of the blade. Instinct pushes me forward, but Addamack holds me back.

The king lifts his blade into the air, presenting it to the gathered dark. He lowers his head and in one swift descent, stabs himself in the chest. I bite back a gasp, but flinch as he digs it deeper. Everyone around us remains entranced by the black cloud, except for Roane. His face is hard, but his eyes betray him.

The King drops to his knees, the dagger falling at his side. Wisps of black smoke seep from the stab wound and the winds scream all around us. The dark smoke from his pores loops around Roane's body. He gazes down at the vines that twist along his arms, his neck, framing his face. The darkness grows deeper and the last of Roane's goodness grows bright. In this white light, I see fear brim in his eyes and tears of ash spill onto his cheeks.

The priests roar thick words that stir the darkness. The crowd lifts their heads, eyes closed. Roane exhales and does the same. This is it, I realize. There's no going back after this.

The priest lowers the crown. I look to the Magics in the crowd; they shift slightly.

"Addamack," I whisper, my body shaking.

On the stage, Thyre takes a step forward and nods sharply.

Whiteness blinds me instantly and I turn my face away just as the Magics tear off their robes.

The surrounding trolls shriek, the frosted lights of the Magics piercing their eyes. My eyes recover quickly, and I look to a Magic as he aims an arrow at the sentries. Instincts propel me forward, toward Roane, toward the Sentries that charge in my direction. Thankfully in my robe, I look like a temple servant.

Violent screams echo around us and the ground shakes. Orbs of white magic dash all around me, toward the stage where Roane is weakened, still held fixed by the darkness that envelopes his body.

The line of sentries dissolve. They lunge and land in different points in the crowd. I push through those trying to get out of harm's way, but bodies are being trampled and slain, Magics killing with little mercy as they fight to get to Roane.

I freeze. A group of sentries move along the outer grounds of the battle, up the stairs, and toward Thyre who waits by the temple doors. In their midst, I notice Caleb's uncle, Made Edwards. At once, everything pieces together. He not only sold non-magics to the trolls, he worked with Thyre towards bringing the Darkness out of the Nether by giving it a human vessel. And now, they're one step closer to their plan.

Four more sentries lift Roane to his feet and drag him inside, Mage Edward close behind them. 

"Get to him Aramin!" Addamack says, dashing before me. "I will keep you covered. Go!" He's fast and slays down anyone who crosses our path. I make to move after him when an arrow of light dashes past my eyes. I gasp. Someone else gasps behind me. I turn to see a Magic there; his sword is held up to strike me, but now an arrow pierces his chest. He falls to his knees and down in front of me.

I look to who shot the arrow and my heart stops. "Caleb?"

He pushes through the crowd to get to me and gripping my hand, he drags me back behind the saftey of a column. "Listen to me, Ro. We don't have much time. I descended with my uncle. He thinks I'm on his side—"

Caleb spins, his sword clashing against Addamack's.

"No, he's safe!" I say, my hand at Addamack's arms. His frame is tense and it takes him a second to realize what I'm saying. The core of his eyes rage with white flames, and in the darkness he glows like an angel.

He lowers his sword, and Caleb bolts to his feet, just as two of the Fae come around us.

"We're running out of time," Addamack says. "He's nearly consumed the darkness. My men have gotten closer, but we need to get through the last wall of defense inside."

"We won't get too far if we're fighting against each other," Caleb says quickly. "We need to attack as a united front. It's the only way."

A fireball shoots past us and blasts at the twined column. I flinch into Caleb as he whirls me away from the cloud of smoke and falling rubble.

"We have to move!" Addamack calls. "My men and I will clear the way of sentries. You handle the Magics." He spins and his cloak billows behind him, streaking the darkness in white. With a call to his men, they thrust themselves into battle.

"You get to Roane, Aramina," Caleb tells me. Whirling me behind him, Caleb motions with a hand to the Magics hiding behind the other pillar. At an angle, I notice we have a narrow path, if we keep tight to the stone walls of the courtyard behind the row of dead trees that frame the wall. Bodies amass there, but they're the least of our worries.

"I think we can get to him faster if we go this way. We can hide behind the statue, and then it's only the stairs to the portico and inside."

Caleb follows my line of sight and motions the direction to his men. I hold onto the back of his robe as he gives the silent order to attack. The line of Magics burst out from behind their columns, forming a wall of protection. They thrust orbs of magic before them, balls of fire, air, water, and earth, whichever element is their strongest. Caleb holds a wall of flames before us.

"It'll drain your magic faster, Caleb!"

He looks to me. "I'll do anything for you. Go!"

Hearts pounding, we run down the narrow path, over bodies, weapons, and blood. Lots of blood. Caleb clears the way, while behind us, a Magic protects the rear. Sheltered by the flames, we make it behind the first statue. I duck behind it, pressed close to its stone foundation.

On a count, we dash up the stairs and through the black doors. Dead sentries lie at our feet, and before us Addamack stabs his sword through the last sentry guarding the hall.

"This way!" he whispers, motioning forward toward two open doors that I know are the throne room. Darkness moves above us like a wave, headed in the same direction. I swallow and hold tight to Caleb, hoping we aren't too late.

We file into the room behind Addamack and the Magics and hide behind a pillar. I follow the wave of darkness with my eyes; it gathers at the throne where Roane is. The last of his light is leaving his body as wisps of white smoke that seem to grow thinner by the second. His uncle stands before him, protecting him against Mage Edwards, Thyre, and the sentries that encircle them.  

"You cannot have the crown!" he yells futilely, a small dagger held before him, but one of the sentries whirls behind him and rams a jagged blade into Ulrec's back. I stifle a gasp, my heart breaking at the look of pain on his face and defeat in his eyes. At knowing the last thing he'll see before death is darkness.

"Now!" Thyre says and nods to Mage Edwards. Mage Edwards moves toward Roane, a long, thin sword in his hands. And once he kills Roane, he will possess the Darkness and will be able to bring it out of the Nether.

He lifts the sword over Roane, but sucks in a gasp and arches forward. Splatters of blood spray up to his face. Beside me, Caleb lowers his bow slowly, watching his uncle fall to the ground with an arrow piercing his chest. Guilt already shades Caleb's stare at killing his uncle, but before another breath, he trains his next arrow on Thyre, who snatches the sword from Mage Edwards, prepared to kill Roane and take on the darkness himself.

"Wait!" I scream at Caleb. "You can't kill him yet!"

Thyre's eyes widen and he looks to me emerge from behind the pillar with Caleb at my side.

"We don't have much time!" Caleb tells me.

He's right and yet, I can't move. Roane had said he preferred death over inheriting the darkness and it looks like he isn't strong enough to resist it. Should I let Thyre kill him and inherit, to finally give Roane peace?

With Arrow in hand, I shift a little closer. Roane is just there, writhing under the vines of black magic that want to consume him. He arches back with a soul-wrenching cry, his arms outstretched.  The temple shakes underfoot as darkness rushes into his eyes, his nose, his mouth, possessing him inside and out.

I consider the scene before me and our options. Killing Thyre means Roane is king and owner of this evil that will continue to imprison him and his people in the Nether. If Thyre kills Roane and inherits the crown, then Roane will be free, but the trolls will once again be bound to the Darkness.

"Ro..." Caleb warns me. "What do you want me to do?"

Before a breath, I thrust Arrow and pray I've made the right choice. In the second it takes Thyre to realize the dagger isn't for him, it's already plunged into Roane's shoulder.

What have I done?

Beside me Caleb asks the same thing, but his voice sounds far away as slowly the vines of darkness release Roane to the ground, slither toward me, and twine about my legs.

"What did you do? Why did you do it? Why did you...?" Caleb's voice breaks, tears glinting in his eyes.

Thyre screams as he watches the darkness approach me. He would kill me if he could, but with Caleb's arrow fixed on him, he can only watch everything he's ever wanted slip away.

Coolness shoots down my spine and I can't speak. All I can do is stand and stare at Caleb glowing in the gathering cloud as he screams to Addamack's men, telling them to stand down. I look to Roane who collapses forward onto the ground, free from the darkness that now imprisons me.

With Addamack's men guarding Thyre, Caleb turns his arrow to me. "What do you want me to do?"

"You have to let me go," I plead with him, gasping as darkness winds about my waist, my stomach, my throat. "I know what I'm doing. "

Before a breath, I open my arms and welcome the darkness. Sharp pain concentrates at my core and I scream as my skin feels to burn off my bones. A thick cloud of black snaps between us and shields me from the outside world. The dark whirls around me, folding and unfolding, but it isn't just a cloud. It's an ocean of shadowmen fighting to break free from the cloud to get to me, to suck away my little bit of magic and life.

A figure materializes in their midst, but unlike them, she steps out into the open.  Moving forward, she stops just outside my dim ring of light. It's then I understand that Darkness has a face, and she is beautiful. Eyes bright as diamonds meet mine, and her lips curl to a lazy smile as she paces before me. Her black gown drags behind her; the train is made of bones.

She sways past me, trailing a finger along my chin. I scream at the fire that trails her touch. At once, a vision comes upon me.  I see stars fall from the sky and crash down on the icy towers of Forever. The ocean swells from its borders and devours the human realm. A black cloud sweeps over golden gates of the Otherworld, devouring the souls within its sacred land. Devastation is all that remains, and me alone, watching over the suffering and destruction that darkness worked through me. Once a non-magic become the most powerful magician of all. 

The vision leaves me to stare at Darkness. She tilts her head, a pleading look in her eyes. She needs me to accept her offer, to let her consume me and together, we will rule the world. But I can't let her. I think beyond the pain slicing the underside of my skin and reinforce my thoughts with memories, all the good and light I can remember. We have one chance, and I'm not sure if this will work, but I can't doubt. We've come too far to doubt.

She places a hand over my chest. The fringes of her figure grow hazy as she becomes more smoke than person. The wisps of her being reach out and hook onto my skin. I bite my nails into my palms, fortifying my strength with memories of Aunt Sabana. I think of us foraging in the woods, or curling up beside her as she told me tales of magic.

Pressure mounts in my head, but I think of the Great Mistress. I remember her eyes glinting as she told me she believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself.

Darkness funnels above me and the ground shakes beneath. I gag as my stomach swells and pushes bile into my throat. But as I choke and watch darkness twists down into me, I think about Caleb. Every kiss he ever gave me, every confession of love made with words and our bodies. Every laugh. every tear, every instance of him saying, "I love you, Ro."

Crying voices scream in my ears and tug at my skin as if to steal away the memories, but then I think of Roane. I envision us fighting together, hurting together, Sharing, and facing the greatest unknowns together.

I remember his words...

Darkness will take away everything if you let it. Don't let it...

Fingers come around my neck and squeeze. My head feels light, but Darkness squeezes harder. It tugs at my thoughts and my memories feel to fade, until... I no longer know where I am. I'm floating in nothingness, and I don't know why I struggle. Why do I struggle?

I don't and weak, I watch my white strands of life wisp away from me.

I feel nothing.

I hear nothing...

But the sound of my heartbeat.

The sound of my life.

As though a hammer knocking on the walls of the darkness, one memory breaks through. It's a memory of me. I stand in my room, alone. Robed in white, I stare at myself in the mirror. It's the morning of my Crossing. In the memory, I approach the glass and smile at my reflection. Adjusting my hood, I meet my reflection's eyes, and suddenly within the black cloud, I remember the words I spoke.

"Whatever happens today, we got this," I had told myself that day, so proud of all I'd accomplished. And here I was again. With or without magic, I made it all the way here and fulfilled my task. I saved Roane and convinced Finvarra to reunite the realms. And above all, that's one thing Darkness can't ever take away from me.

The tear falls like a star to my feet. It touches the black cloud and causes it to splinter, each crevice filled with light like the spells I powered through Roane's magic, only this power is my own.

The shadowmen moan, and though there is nothing tangible in this darkness, everything around me shakes, pulsates and vibrates with each beat of my heart. Fingers come around my neck and squeeze, but opening my eyes and coming face to face with Darkness's beautiful diamond eyes, I know that when everything else is gone and every memory is taken from me, I am all that remains. Whether a magic or a non-magic, whether with or without Caleb's or Roane's love, whether with a dagger or my bare hands,  in light or in darkness, I am enough and magic would not have trusted me with this task otherwise.

I clutch my hand around Darkness's wrist and force her to release me. I will not fear her; I don't. Her brows knit together, her face contorting and flashing through various appearances--that of all the men and women that have fallen under her spell for eons before my existence. Her face settles back to beauty, but now her eyes are of flames.

The blackness swells around me, but I hold my ground. Darkness will take everything away if I let it.

"I won't let you," I scream into her cloud. "I won't let you have anything."

Violent wind gusts past, and the blackness once again takes to a violent spin around me. The Shadowmen shriek and reach for me as they spin powerlessly in this vortex, crying for freedom, crying for life.

"Not my body."

With each spin, my light advances and the cloud thins.

"Not my love."

Darkness screams and thrust her hand out before her. Black vines shoot out toward me, but I stand still as they enter my light and wither to ash.

I shake my head. "Not my life."

Tears of ash fall from her black eyes as she looks to the thinning cloud realizing she has no power here. Eyes wide, she grips her face, digging her nails into her skin.

In a flash of black, the dark cloud waves over me, unable to reach me in my light. It plummets on top of her, tangled limbs folding upon another in the smoke. She screams, but Shadowmen twine about her, like children refusing to let their mother go. In her agony, she's dragged into their midst. Her arms reach for me, but she can't have me.

The darkness folds and vanishes with an echoing hiss.

Thank you so much for reading! The next chapter is the last one. I really appreciate everyone who has read and commented. It really means the world to me!