Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,154

He wept when he realized we couldn’t. He was bleeding to death, in a pool of his own blood, and he was crying because he thought he’d failed again.”

Her father had wept again, inside Maidenkeep. “But all those other people…”

“I don’t know if his attempts at redemption will ever outweigh his crimes. But I decided in the end that he should at least be given the chance to.” She smiled sadly at Tala. “I think everyone deserves that much.”

After an intricate musical fanfare that nearly destroyed Tala’s eardrums, two guards tugged the massive doors open. Colorful pinions and banners decorated the walls, marking the festiveness of the occasion. It had taken almost two weeks to remove all the remaining ice and replace the destroyed furnishings, but Lola Urduja had been just as efficient at housekeeping as she was at planning strategy.

The crowd was solemn. Tala ignored the stares and focused on not tripping over her own feet. In contrast, the firebird lifted its wings and drew its neck up proudly, daring anyone to protest its presence, which no one did. And for all his earlier reservations, Alex was all confidence, striding up the carpeted path and onward to his destiny.

Loki and Nya stood at the back of the room, the girl in a simple woolen gown and Loki in a white tunic and breeches. Nya waved happily at them, much to the annoyance of the others around her, but a faint smile touched Alex’s face at the sight.

Tala spotted Ken next, in a silver and blue doublet, grinning in encouragement. West stood beside him, in a yellow waistcoat still a size too big for his build. His hair, for once, was carefully combed, freshly scrubbed face beaming back. Zoe wore a long blue gown that matched the color of her eyes, which sparkled as she dipped into a low curtsy. Cole stood farther along the crowd, clothed heavily in black. General Luna, Tito Jose, and the Titas Baby, Chedeng, and Teejay, were all were dressed in military garb, for once looking like the soldiers they were. They lined the aisle with their swords raised over them as the group passed through, looking proud.

A small pedestal was placed at the very end of their walk, where a golden crown lay gleaming. Behind it was another, taller platform. Tala and the others stopped several feet away, allowing Alex to complete the last few yards on his own. The air around the higher podium warped briefly, a sphere made of darkness briefly materializing above it. When it cleared, a large cat with fur that was a patchwork of colors sat, surveying the room with considerable calm. The gasps arising from the audience were audible.

“Time is such a relative concept,” a voice began as the music ended. It came from everywhere and from nowhere all at once. “A dozen years to most can mean a lifetime for one. A dozen years is a dozen years too much for Avalon to have gone through what it has. But today is a sign of brighter things to come, of better futures. Today, we celebrate not what we’ve lost, but what we are ready to become.”

Lumina Makiling stepped forward, now balancing a long sword carefully with both hands, and Tala’s heart nearly stopped beating.

But it wasn’t the Nameless Sword. This was smaller and had none of the strange carvings of the other. In fact, it had no markings at all.

Her mother presented the sword to the cat, hilt extended. Tala had no idea how it was going to grasp it, until Lumina stepped back and the blade remained suspended in the air, hovering.

“The sword of the Tsarevich House,” the voice announced, and the hilt turned and floated toward Alex. “Wielded since the days of the first Ivan Tsarevich. Now we pass it on as tradition demands.” Alex took the sword, raising it slightly so it gleamed in the light.

Now it was the crown’s turn to rise from the platform on its own, crossing the distance to gently settle on Alex’s head.

“Clear minds, open hearts”—was it Tala’s imagination, or did the cat actually smile?—“Fighting hands. Ladies and gentlemen, the Firekeeper, and the new king of Avalon—Alexei of House Tsarevich!”

His name echoed throughout the room, and the answering roar of voices nearly drowned out the triumphant orchestra.

Things would have proceeded according to custom, had not the firebird, drunk on all the well-wishing and praise, decided to contribute further to the festivities. A celebratory fireball neatly scorched the ceiling, sending