It floated above the pedestal behind the throne, a sphere of crystallized light the size of a man’s head, pulsing with a rhythm that matched Kaelen’s own heartbeat. Tendrils of dark energy snaked from it into the walls, the floor, the very air—the roots of her power, sunk deep into the world.
The corridor beyond was vast, lined with statues of the queen in her various forms—beautiful, terrible, serene, enraged. Each statue had eyes that seemed to follow the intruders. Sera avoided looking at them directly. Kaelen counted his steps. The hooded figure kept one hand on the God-Killer.
But the Heartstone was not.
And the queen…
The three infiltrators moved through the cisterns like ghosts, knee-deep in water that reeked of rot and old magic. Sera led the way, her small hands finding purchase on slime-slicked stones, her ears tuned to the distant rhythm of guards’ boots overhead. Kaelen followed, his limp more pronounced in the confined space, each step a negotiation with pain. The hooded figure brought up the rear, silent as a held breath, the God-Killer wrapped in cloth and strapped to their chest. Overthrow- The Demon Queen 1
Her name was Malachar, and she had conquered the five kingdoms not with armies, but with silence. One by one, the kings had knelt. One by one, the temples had been sealed. And one by one, the people had learned that hope was just another word for disobedience.
She spread her arms wide. “Congratulations. You’ve earned my full attention.” It floated above the pedestal behind the throne,
“Then pay attention,” he said, and charged.