I stood on a cliff, staring down at the world far below. My skirts whipped in the wind that shrieked along the heights. Below, the Corpse King’s army fought the Berserkers. Sword beat shield, axe cleaved bone. The wind carried the sound of battle and the stench of the undead.
“It’s over,” the Corpse King said. He stood at my back, black robes swathing his bony self. His mirage was slipping—he looked more like the undead he commanded than the human mage he’d once been. “You may as well give it to me.”
My hand closed over the jewel at my neck. Eldritch light escaped from between my fingers.
“It does not belong to him.” There was a third on the cliff, a woman with white gold hair. “Give it to your sisters, so we may all defeat him.”
I opened my hand, and the stone had disappeared. I still
