Zoey

The shock I felt when Kalona materialized above Stark was terrible. The sight of him brought back everything that had happened in that last moment on that last day, before my world exploded in death and despair and guilt. Fully formed, his amber gaze met mine, and I was frozen by the sadness I saw there, and by the memory of how I'd looked into his eyes before and believed I'd glimpsed humanity, kindness, even love.

I'd been so, so wrong.

Heath had died because of how wrong I'd been.

Then Kalona's gaze moved from me back to Stark, as my Warrior taunted him.

No! Oh, Goddess! Please make him be quiet. Please make him run back to me.

But Stark seemed to like taunting Kalona. He wouldn't shut up; he didn't run. Horror filled me as Kalona plucked the spear from the sky. His wings cut a hole in the ground and then he and Stark disappeared into its blackness.

It was then I realized that Stark was also going to die because of me.

"No! " The soundless scream tore from deep inside me, where everything felt empty and hopeless and restless. I needed to run - to keep moving - to escape from what was happening here.

I couldn't handle it. There wasn't enough of me left to handle it.

But if I didn't handle it, Stark would die.

"No." This time the word wasn't a ghostly, soundless scream. It was my voice -  my voice, and not that awful not-here crap that had been babbling out of my mouth.

"Stark. Can. Not. Die." I tasted the words and followed their form and familiarity, listening for myself, as I stepped from the grove and headed to the black hole in the ground inside of which my Warrior had disappeared.

When the hole opened at my feet, I looked down to see Stark and Kalona facing each other in the middle of it. Stark was holding a gleaming sword in both of his hands against Kalona's dark spear.

I realized then that it wasn't just a hole in the ground. It was an arena. Kalona had created an arena with high walls, unbroken and slick. Walls that couldn't be climbed.

Kalona had Stark trapped. Now he couldn't run, even if he would listen to me. He couldn't escape. He also couldn't possibly win. And Kalona wouldn't be happy with beating Stark up a little - or even a lot.

Kalona meant to kill Stark.

The restless numbness started to smother me again as Stark faced Kalona. I let my feet move but forced myself to stay where I could see the adversaries, walking the circumference of the arena as, unbelievably, Stark attacked the fallen immortal.

Laughing cruelly, Kalona deflected the sword with a flick of the spear, and with a movement so blindingly fast there was no way Stark could have seen it coming, Kalona smashed his open hand into Stark's face with ferocious, sneering disdain. Stark's forward momentum carried him awkwardly past the immortal, and he fell to the ground, holding his hands over his ears like he was trying to ease the pain in his head.

"A Guardian claymore - that's amusing. So you think you can stand with them?" Kalona spoke while Stark regained his balance and turned to face him again, his sword held up before him.

Blood trickled from Stark's ears, nose, and lips, making thin scarlet threads down his chin and neck. "I don't think I'm a Guardian. I am a Guardian."

"You can't be. I know your past, boy. I've seen you embrace Darkness. Tell the Guardians about that and then see if they still want you."

"The only other person who can make, or unmake, me a Guardian is my queen, and she knows about me and my past ."

I watched Stark lunge again. With a disdainful sneer, Kalona used the spear to brush aside the blade.

This time when he hit Stark, it was with his closed fist, and the force of it broke his nose and bloodied his cheekbones, knocking my Warrior to his back.

I held my breath, watching helplessly for what I knew would be Kalona's killing blow.

But the immortal didn't do anything except laugh while Stark struggled painfully to his feet. "Zoey isn't a queen. She isn't strong enough. She's just a weak girl who let herself be shattered by the death of one human boy," Kalona said.

"You're wrong. Zoey isn't weak; she cares! And about that human boy? That's part of the reason I'm here. I need to collect the life debt you owe for killing him."

"Fool! It's only Zoey who can collect that debt!"

With those words, it was as if Kalona had taken his spear and sliced through the fog of guilt that had been blanketing me since I'd watched him twist Heath's neck, allowing everything to become very clear to me.

I might not see myself as a queen - or as much of anything sometimes - but Stark believed in me. Heath believed in me. Stevie Rae believed in me. Even Aphrodite believed in me.

And, as Stevie Rae would have said, Kalona was as wrong as manboobs.

Caring about others didn't make me weak. It was the choices that I'd made because of that caring that defined me.

I'd let love shatter me once, and as I watched Kalona play with my Warrior, my Guardian, I chose to let honor heal me.

And that, finally, made my decision.

I turned my back on the arena and moved quickly to the edge of the Goddess's grove. Blocking out the sense of restlessness that threatened to pull me ever forward without really taking me anywhere, I made myself stand still. Spreading my arms wide I focused first on the last spirit who had spoken to me.

"Brighid! I need my strength back!"

The redhead materialized before me. She looked like a Goddess herself, all fiery and tall, full of power and confidence that I didn't have.

"No," I corrected myself out loud. "The power and confidence are mine. I just lost them for a while."

"Ready to accept them back?" she said, familiar eyes meeting mine.

"I am."

"Well, it's about time." She stepped forward and put her arms around me, pulling me close to her in an embrace that was as strong as it was intimate. My arms closed around her, and with that acceptance she dissolved against my skin, and I was filled with a surge of heat that was power - pure power.

"One down," I muttered. "Get your butt in gear, girl."

I spread my arms again. This time my feet stayed planted firmly on the earth and the desire to move, search, flee, flowed over and past me, harmless as spring rain.

"I need my joy back!"

My nine-year-old self didn't materialize. She bounded from the grove. Giggling, she hurled herself into my arms. I caught her, and, as she yelled, "Yippee!" she soaked into my soul.

Laughing, I spread my arms again. Joy and strength allowed me to accept the last of my missing soul - compassion.

"A-ya, I need you back, too," I called into the grove.

The Cherokee maid stepped gracefully from the tree line. "A-de-lv, sister, I am glad to hear you call my name.

"Yeah, well, I can honestly say I'm glad to have you as part of me. I accept you, A-ya. Totally. Will you come back?"

"I've been here all along. All you had to do was ask."

I met her halfway and hugged her hard, bringing her back to me, and in turn, bringing myself back.

"Now, let's see who's a weak little girl," I said, hurrying back to Kalona's arena.

I stepped to the edge and looked down. Stark was on his knees again. The sight of him squeezed my heart. My Guardian looked awful. His lips were swollen and split wide in a bunch of places. His nose had been smashed crooked and was oozing blood. His left shoulder was a shapeless, dislocated mess, leaving his arm dangling limply at his side. The beautiful sword was lying on the ground, just out of his reach. I could see that the bones of one foot and a kneecap had been shattered, but still Stark struggled along on the ground at Kalona's feet, hopelessly trying to move closer toward his claymore.

Kalona was hefting his spear as if he was testing the balance of it and studied Stark. "A broken Guardian for a shattered girl. It seems you two fit better together now," he said.

And that seriously pissed me off.

"You have no idea how tired I am of your crap, Kalona," I said.

Both of their heads snapped up. I didn't look away from Kalona, but I could feel Stark's grin.

"Go back to the grove, Zoey," Kalona said. "It is better for you there."

"You know what I really hate? Guys trying to tell me what to do."

"Yep, my queen, that's what Heath said." The grin was in Stark's voice now, and I had to look at him.

I met his battered gaze, and the pride in me I saw reflected there made my eyes fill with tears. "My Warrior . . ." I whispered to him.

That one instant - my one small mistake - was enough for Kalona. I heard him say, "You should have chosen to return to the grove." I saw Stark's eyes widen, and as my gaze flew back to the immortal, Kalona spun around, his right arm stretched back like an ancient warrior god. He released the spear with

a burst of strength and speed that I knew I couldn't -

"No!" I screamed. "Come to me, air!" I leaped into the arena, trusting the element to cushion me, but even as I felt the current catch me, I saw it was too late.

Kalona's spear struck Stark in the middle of his chest. It traveled through his body, the barbs in the spear shank catching his rib cage and hurling him backward with such momentum that he was impaled against the far wall of the arena with sickening force.

My feet touched the ground, and I was already running to Stark. I reached him, and his gaze met mine.

He was still alive!

"Don't die! Don't die! I can fix this. I have to be able to fix this."

Unbelievably, he smiled. "That's right. My queen won't let anything shatter her again. Collect your debt, and let's go home."

Stark closed his eyes and, with a smile on his broken lips, I watched his body convulse once. Bloody air bubbles foamed around the spear in his chest, and suddenly there was no movement, no sound from him at all. My Warrior was dead.

This time when I faced the being who had just killed someone I loved, I didn't give in to horror and pain.

This time I kept spirit close to me instead of hurling it away, and from it I drew the power of knowledge and let instincts, and not guilt and despair, guide me.

Kalona shook his head. "I wish this could have ended differently. Had you listened to me, accepted me, it would have," he said.

"Glad to hear you agree with me, 'cause this is going to end differently," I said. Before I started toward him I picked up Stark's sword. It was heavier than I thought it was going to be, but it was still warm from Stark's hand, and that warmth helped me find the strength to lift it.

Kalona's smile was almost kind. "I won't fight you. That is my gift to you." He unfurled his great wings.

"Goodbye, Zoey. I will miss you and think of you often."

"Air, don't let him leave." I flung the element at him. His fully spread wings were easily caught, and a mighty gust of wind pinned them against the wall of the arena, eerily mirroring Stark's final pose.

I walked up to him and, with no hesitation, drove the claymore through his chest.

"That's for Stark. I know this won't kill you, but it sure as hell feels good to do it," I said. "And I know he'll appreciate it."

Kalona's eyes glinted dangerously. "You cannot hold me here forever. And when you finally release me, I will make you pay for this."

"Okay, see, just like Stark said - you're wrong. Again. There are different rules in the Otherworld, so I probably could keep you here forever, if I wanted to stay and turn into Crazy Vengeance Girl, but here's the deal: I already almost turned into one kind of crazy girl. I'm not so much interested in doing that again. Plus, I want to go home. So, here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna pay me the life debt you owe me for killing my consort, Heath Luck, by bringing Stark back to me. Then Stark and me, we're

going home. Oh, and by the way, I don't care where you'll be going."

"You've gone mad. I cannot bring the dead back to life."

"In this case, I think you can. Stark's body is safe back in the real world, along with mine. We're in the Otherworld, and it's all about spirit here. You're an immortal, which means you're all about spirit. So you're gonna take some of your immortal spirit and share it with my Guardian. And bring him back to me. Now. Because you owe it to me. Do you get it? I claim the debt, and it's time you paid up."

"You don't have the power to make me," Kalona said.

She does not, but I do.

The disembodied words settled down into the arena. I recognized the sound of Nyx's voice immediately and looked around expectantly, trying to see her. It was Kalona who found her, though. He was staring over my shoulder with an expression that utterly changed his face. It took me a second to recognize it.

He'd looked at me with lust, with possessiveness, and even with what he'd called love. But he'd been wrong. He didn't love me. Kalona loved Nyx.

I followed his gaze and turned to see the Goddess standing beside Stark's body. One of her hands rested tenderly on his head.

"Nyx!" the immortal's voice sounded broken and surprisingly young. "My Goddess!"

Nyx's eyes lifted from Stark's body, but she didn't look at Kalona. The Goddess looked at me. She smiled, and everything within me was suffused in joy.

"Merry meet, Zoey."

I grinned, and bowed my head. "Merry meet, Nyx."

"You've done well, daughter. You've made me proud of you again."

"It took me too long," I said. "I'm sorry about that."

Her gaze was unwaveringly kind. "As always with you, as with many of my strongest daughters, it is yourselves you should be forgiving. There is no need to ask it of me."

"And what of me?" Kalona rasped. "Will you ever forgive me?"

The Goddess looked at him. Her eyes were sad, but the set of her mouth was grim, her words clipped and emotionless. "If you are ever worthy of forgiving, you may ask it of me. Not until then." Nyx lifted her hand from Stark's head and flicked her fingers at Kalona. The claymore disappeared from his chest.

Wind abated, and he dropped from the wall of the arena. "You will pay my daughter the debt you owe her, and then you will return to the world and the consequences awaiting you there, knowing this, my fallen Warrior, your spirit, as well as your body, is forbidden entrance to my realm." Without another glance at Kalona, Nyx turned her back to him. She bent to kiss Stark's bloody lips gently, and then the air around her rippled, glistened, and she faded away.

When Kalona got to his feet I backed away from him fast, lifting my hands and getting ready to throw air at him again. Then his eyes met mine, and I saw that he was weeping silently.

"I will do as she commands. Except for one time, one single time, I always did as she commanded," he said.

I followed him as he walked to Stark's body. "I return to you that last sweet breath of life. With it live again, and accept a small piece of my immortality for the human life I have taken." Then, totally shocking me, Kalona bent and, mimicking Nyx, he kissed Stark.

Stark's body jerked. He gasped and inhaled a long breath.

Before I could stop him, Kalona put one hand on Stark's shoulder, and with the other he wrenched the spear from his body. With an agonized cry, Stark collapsed.

"You jerk!" I ran to Stark and cradled his head on my lap. He was breathing hard, in panting gasps, but he was breathing. I looked up at Kalona. "No wonder she won't forgive you. You're cruel and heartless and just plain wrong."

"When you get back to the world, stay away from me. You'll be out of her realm then, and Nyx won't come running to save you," he said.

"The farther I am from you, the better."

Kalona stretched open his wings, but before he could take to the sky, tendrils of Darkness, sticky and sharp, oozed from the black sides of the arena and the pitch-colored dirt beneath his feet. While he stared at me, they wrapped around his body, slicing his flesh. Segment by segment they cut him, covered him, until he was nothing but writhing darkness, blood, and amber eyes. Then the tendrils reached his eyes, plunging into them. I cried out in horror as they ripped something that was so bright and shining from inside him that I had to close my eyes against its brilliance. When I opened them again Kalona's body had disappeared along with the arena, and Stark and I were inside the grove.