CHAPTER 11. Kiyo turned to me, giving me the same assessment I’d just given him

“Cute,” I said.

Kiyo turned to me, giving me the same assessment I’d just given him. “You okay?”

“A little venom and probably some bruising tomorrow.”

He nodded, relieved, and then did a double take. “You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” I asked, almost as surprised as he was.

He hurried over to me. “Your shoulder.”

“Oh, shit,” I said, craning my neck to look back. “That’s the table injury.”

“Take off your shirt. And don’t even start with some ridiculous modesty spiel,” he added, seeing me start to protest. I knew he was right and gingerly lifted off the Mötley Crüe shirt. He helped me part of the way, saving me from raising my arms too far. Examining the shirt, I saw blood soaked in it.

“Bad?” I asked.

“I’ll know once I take the bandages off. Please tell me you have more and that we don’t have to reuse these.”

“I’ve got more. I told you I brought supplies.”

Carefully, he peeled off the gash’s cloth coverings and tossed them to the ground. In the firelight and dim glow of sunrise, I could see the fabric was completely red with blood.

“You broke some stitches,” he said wearily. “I don’t have the tools to fix it.” I’d once been kind of freaked out that he used his veterinarian skills to patch battle wounds, but now I kind of took it in stride.

“Pain aside, is that going to matter?” I asked.

“You’ll bleed more, though I’ll wrap it as much as I can. You’ll risk a scar too if you don’t get it stitched again. Once we finish this craziness up, I can do it for you back in Tucson if you don’t want to explain it to your doctor.”

“My regular one’s kind of used to this,” I said.

He snorted. “I imagine so.”

I fetched my pack, and we both sat on the ground. The light was increasing, making it easier for him to work as he tidied up my back. The old bandages were tossed away, and I winced as he swabbed everything with antiseptic wipes.

“I thought the danger didn’t start until we were in the crown’s cave,” I muttered.

“As often happens, mistress, you’ve made an incorrect assumption,” said Volusian. “The legends say the path to the crown is perilous. We are on the path. Your testing has begun.”

“Fantastic. Ow!”

“I’m saving you from infection,” chastised Kiyo. That seemed to be the last of the sanitizing, thankfully, and from there he began layering gauze and tape. What he did was far from erotic, but it amazed me how gentle and steady his hands could be after seeing him savagely fight and rip things apart.

I glanced over at Deanna, who had simply observed the fight. She’d said nothing, but I thought I caught a glimpse of relief on her face. My death would have put a serious hitch in our bargain.

“How long until the entrance? When we lose you guys?” I asked. Annoying or not, Volusian would be missed—especially if these snakes were just the warm-up act.

“A few hours,” said Deanna.

I frowned, unsure if I should dread it or not. We’d lose our backup but be that much closer to finishing this anti-vacation.

“I suppose it’d be too much to hope you’ve brought any painkillers?” asked Kiyo, still layering me up. I felt like I had a quilt on my back.

“Vicodin probably isn’t the best asset for impending battle.”

“I was thinking more like aspirin.”

“Nope.” But it did remind me I was due for another antibiotic dose. I’d arrogantly thought I didn’t need them but now was glad for my mom’s vigilance. Not that I wanted to admit any of this to Kiyo. The thing about dating a doctor was that he’d always been on me about taking better care of myself. I didn’t want to hear any I-told-you-so’s now. And unsurprisingly, there was more advice to come.

He finished the last of the tape and helped me put on the clean shirt I’d packed. “Eugenie, wrapping this is a nuisance, but any gentry healer could have fixed this up in their sleep. Dorian’s got great healers. Why didn’t he have one of them take care of this? He should know better.”

I shifted around so I faced him. “How on earth did this suddenly become Dorian’s fault? Why is he responsible for everything evil? Of course he offered to get a healer. I refused because I figured other people needed it more.” I’d also totally forgotten to ask Shaya.

Kiyo’s expression relaxed and actually grew apologetic. He looked away. “Of course you did. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for accusing Dorian or for forgetting I’d be foolishly altruistic?”

Kiyo turned back, a small smile on his lips. “What do you think? There’s very little I feel apologetic for when it comes to Dorian, especially when I’m still convinced he wants to father Storm King’s heir.”

I smiled back. “I’m sure he does too. But it’s a moot point. I’ve still got birth control pills. I still don’t want any kids. My life’s stressful enough.” Belatedly, I recalled his adoration of Luisa. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he said, still smiling. “Really … I should be better about trusting you. I just keep thinking …” The smile dimmed a little.

“Thinking what?”

“I don’t know. That one day this will all get to you. And I don’t mean about Storm King. I mean just … everything. You’ll totally give yourself over to this world. I’ll lose the Eugenie I know.”

I grabbed his hand without thinking and squeezed it. “Hey, stop that. You said it yourself: trust me. I’m the same Eugenie. Still split between identities … but nothing can change that.”

“I know.” He continued holding my hand. The touch of his fingers, which had been so objectively medical minutes ago, now took on another feel … something warmer. Something that made my body feel strange, as those dark eyes stayed fixed on me. I found myself falling into them like I used to, into those sexy, smoky depths….

I abruptly stood up, breaking that dangerous touch. “Well,” I said awkwardly, “seeing as it’s already light out and we’re up, we might as well get going. Breakfast in the saddle?”

Kiyo rose too, looking troubled. “Sure. The sooner we’re moving, the sooner we’re past any snake threats.”

As we packed up and got back on the horses, I wondered if we were riding toward something much worse than snakes. Don’t get me wrong: they’d been bad. But I fought supernatural creatures all the time. There’d been so much hype about the crown. Was it simply going to involve a monster buffet?

I kept those thoughts to myself as we traveled, having plenty of other things to preoccupy me. My meager breakfast. Kiyo’s presence. The pain in my back. The meaning behind the scattered holes in the terrain.

On the road went, just as it would through any part of the Otherworld. I wondered how far it went. To infinity? Or would a traveler simply fall off the edge, like on those maps made back when people believed the world was flat?

“This is it.”

Deanna’s voice, though soft, seemed harsh in the emptiness around us. We came to a halt, and I glanced around, searching for what she’d found. At last, I spotted a small, dark opening tucked in one of the iron mountains.

“That’s it? It seems so … small.”

“Out here it does,” said Kiyo. “We don’t know what’s inside … except that it’s going to completely enclose us in iron. Remember—that’d kill most gentry. It’s a test you’re lucky enough to skip. Hopefully.”

“True,” I murmured. I still felt no ostensible effects from this land, but what would happen inside the mountain?

“I can’t go inside,” said Deanna. “I’ll just wait here for you to come out.”

“I too shall wait,” said Volusian, “in the hopes that you meet your death and that it is your spirit that emerges, so that I may torment it for all eternity.”

I pushed away the desire to order him away. Even if he couldn’t follow us, I’d feel better having him right here for defense when we came out. And we would come out, I decided fiercely. There was no if here.

I left my bag and gun outside, seeing as I had no ammunition left. Fucking snakes. Surveying the rest of my arsenal, I left the iron athame in my belt, putting the silver athame in my right hand and the wand in my left. I glanced at Kiyo.

“Ready?”

He nodded. “I’ll go first.”

It was a very manly thing to do. I let him lead and faintly heard Deanna wishing us luck. The cave we entered was pitch black and cramped. I could just barely get through without ducking and knew Kiyo had to walk slightly hunched. We followed the twists and turns, scraping against the close, rough walls. We spoke occasionally to check location, and I’d sometimes touch his back as well. The deeper we went, the more I could feel the iron around us. Again, I had no indications of weakness … just an awareness.

“Light,” said Kiyo suddenly.

I blinked. He was right. I saw no light source, but something farther ahead was casting light down the tunnel. It started as only faint illumination, just giving me a glimpse of his silhouette. Soon, the light increased … as did the heat. A roaring sound came to my ears.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I said.

We rounded a corner, and my jaw nearly dropped. The path ahead was blocked by fire. To be precise, it was blocked by sheets of very neatly contained fire, giving the impression of giant blades—particularly since they swung from the ceiling. Magically flattened into sheets or not, the flames burned intensely, and the heat radiating through the corridor left no doubt that these bastards would incinerate us.

“I think I saw this in a video game,” I muttered.

Kiyo’s gaze was fixed unwaveringly on the fire blades. There were five of them. His face was blank, but the concentration in his eyes told me what he was doing. He was timing them, studying their patterns.

“They’re staggered in a way that would let us get through,” he said. “We just have to watch the timing.”

“You can get through. I don’t know about me.” I wasn’t being defeatist; I was just stating the truth. Kiyo possessed reflexes I didn’t have. I could sit here for hours and probably not learn their patterns like he could.

He frowned. “Maybe I can just hold your hand. Or put you on my back.”

“What? No. That’s ridiculous. It’d affect your speed—throw you off.” I studied the flames, hypnotized by the swinging patterns. There were spaces between each sheet. “Maybe I can wing it, take them one at a time.”

“Now that’s a ridiculous idea.” Frustration lined his brow.

“And to think, I would have given anything for heat last night. We should have camped in here….” My joke trailed off as an idea came to me. “I’ll just walk through.”

The look he gave me required no words to convey his opinion.

“Seriously,” I said. I put my weapons away and drew on the magic within me. The iron wasn’t affecting me. I toyed with the elements of air and water, testing and weaving them like a scarf. Kiyo could feel the shift in temperature near us.

“What are you thinking?”

“I can protect myself,” I said. “The cave’s damp enough—aside from here—for me to draw water. I’ll make a shield for me and use air to blow out against the fire.”

“The air could feed the flames.”

“Not if I do it right.”

Our eyes met. He didn’t like this idea, not at all. “This’ll work,” I told him. “I know for a fact it will.”

“For a fact, huh? I still think I should carry you.”

“And I still think that’s idiotic. You’ve gotta trust me, Kiyo. I can do this. I can feel it.”

He didn’t answer immediately, but I knew I had him. “If I watch you get burned alive, I’m not going to be happy.”

“Volusian’ll be happy,” I said. “At least someone comes out on top.”

“Eugenie!”

“Sorry.” I gave Kiyo what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “This’ll work. You go first.”

He hesitated a few moments more and then transformed into a fox. For fighting, he often chose a powerful, larger than life one. Now, he was small and quick like any ordinary red fox. He turned toward the flames, the human part—and probably animal too—again gauging timing. Then—he sprang forward.

I’d piled assurances on him, but it was my own breath that caught while watching him. He ran without stopping, stride smooth and consistent as he flawlessly ran through empty space caused by the flames’ swinging to the opposite side of the cave. In seconds, he reached the end, on the other side of the fifth sheet. I exhaled. He transformed back to Kiyo and peered at me through the sporadic gaps, worry all over him.

I gave him another confident smile, hoping my earlier argument would hold true. I stared at the flames, not to time them but simply to muster my own courage. Magic welled up within me as I pulled moisture around my body, creating a spinning, almost cyclone-like cocoon—that instantly soaked me. That was the least of my worries. Then, I called on the air, drawing it to me and forcing it to blast away from my body.

As I stepped forward, my mind suddenly ran through a hundred other scenarios. Maybe I could have just sucked out the oxygen here and killed the fire. Of course, that’d likely render me unconscious. And would ordinary physics even work against magic fire? That question came to me too late, along with the realization that magic fire might similarly be immune to air and water.

Woosh!

I lacked Kiyo’s timing. The first fiery sheet flew at me—and went around me. My fan-effect blew it away and the scalding heat that would have still reached me was mitigated by the water. I picked up my pace, walking through the second one in a similar way. Lucky timing made me miss the third altogether. The fourth nailed me—or would have—and then I just barely sidestepped the fifth.

I reached Kiyo’s side and dropped the magic. “Three out of five ain’t bad,” I said cheerfully. To my surprise he hugged me, in spite of my dripping clothes and hair.

“Jesus Christ that was scary, Eug. When I saw you walk through that first wall …”

“… you thought it was pretty cool?”

He pulled back and shook his head, watching as I wrung water from my shirt. “You sure are making an awful lot of jokes about some pretty serious stuff.”

“Hey, you’re the one who made the Dune reference.” I sighed and let my hands fall to my sides. “Besides, if I wasn’t making jokes, I’d probably come to my senses and be running straight back to the Thorn Land.” I drew air to me, taking along some of the heat, to sort of blow-dry me off. I stopped when I was semi-dry, not wanting to use up the magic.

“I understand,” he said. He gently touched my arm, smiled weakly, and then tilted his head toward the darkness ahead. “Ready for more?”

I nodded, following him once again. We walked farther and farther from the flames, losing the light as we did. A strange flashback came to me, a trip to the Underworld where I’d walked through similar caves and faced tests to bring back Kiyo’s soul. How could I have nearly forgotten about that? I’d loved him so much, I’d faced Death herself. How did love like that change?

More tunnel crawling followed, and I wondered if perhaps this was a test for claustrophobic gentry. Gradually, though, the tunnel began to expand and expand until it suddenly dead-ended into a large cavernous room. Much like the tunnel, everything here was simply rough rock with occasional glimpses of iron. A few torches lit the chamber, revealing its centerpiece: an elegant marble pedestal with an iron crown sitting on it.

“Seriously?” I said.

Kiyo and I hovered near the room’s opening, wary of entering. Yet, as I stared at the crown, it wasn’t any potential trap that sent a chill down my spine. Another test in my trip to the Underworld replayed in my mind: I’d been forced to wear my father’s crown, despite my protests. That crown had been platinum, but it and the one before me both had a similar silvery sheen. Both were adorned with purple jewels. Both had a harsh, martial feel to them. The one in the vision had been a little more delicate, though, with a bit more artistic flair. Designer planning had also clearly gone into this one, with its circle of jeweled spikes alternating in size, but my feel was that it was meant to be impressive, not pretty.

“It’s an illusion,” I said to Kiyo. “We can’t have reached it already. We’ve hardly done anything.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the crown as he spoke. “Snakes and walking through fire are nothing?”

“Well, no. But I expected more, considering all the hype.”

“The iron,” Kiyo reminded me. “You used magic to get through the fire. Most gentry would too—but imagine what it would be like for them in all this iron. If they even got this far. You’re … not cheating, exactly, but you’re bypassing a lot of the challenges here.”

“If it’s meant to be for gentry, then maybe the crown is too. Maybe I’m too human and won’t be able to claim it.” Man, that would suck.

“One way to find out.”

I stared at the crown, noticing how little light reflected off it. Was this it? Did I really just go up and claim it? Time to find out. I took a few steps forward … and the room abruptly became cold. A dark feeling, a feeling of power and pure evil filled the small space. What does evil feel like? You just know. I hastily returned to Kiyo’s side, but it was too late.

A male figure materialized before us, clad in beautiful purple velvet robes, embroidered and tailored in a way Dorian might have envied. This guy’s hair was nearly as beautiful, a pale white blond that shone in the torchlight and grazed his shoulders. Yes, definitely an impressively attired figure. The only thing that really detracted from it all was that he was a skeleton.

“Oh, fuck,” I said.

“What is it?” asked Kiyo, moving close to me.

“A lich. Like a … I don’t know. An undead necromancer or magic user.” My mind was frantically spinning. Liches used magic before their deaths to purposely keep themselves from the Underworld. It made them very hard to banish, according to Roland. I’d only ever heard of them in stories.

“Like a zombie?”

“No. Smarter. And they can also do—duck!”

Kiyo, always a hair faster than me, had already dropped down and taken me with him as the lich hurled a ball of blue fire at us. It hit the wall above us, dispersing and blasting us with heat but otherwise doing no harm. More of that fire was already forming in its skeletal hand, and I knew it would aim low.

Kiyo transformed to his largest fox form and leapt at the lich, attacking the best way he knew how. His jaws started to close around the lich’s robe-encased leg, but a small gesture from the lich sent Kiyo flying. He hit a wall, shook it off, and growled, pacing and planning what to do next in light of this new development.

During their split-second encounter, I had just enough time to send my senses out through the wand. I touched the Underworld and attempted to form a connection. The butterfly on my arm burned like the snake’s venom, but I couldn’t open the way. It was like beating on a heavy locked door. More effort might have helped me break through, but I had no chance to try before another fireball came toward me. I dodged and rolled away. Seeing the lich deflect Kiyo again made me think an athame attack wasn’t going to be much help either.

The lich seemed to recognize my problems and laughed, a low, guttural sound that echoed unnaturally in the chamber. “You will not wear the Iron Crown. You do not possess the power to wear the Iron Crown.”

I was ready to evade another fireball, but a flick of the lich’s hand threw me back against the wall. I didn’t even have time to process the agony that caused to my wounds because the unseen force that pinned me there hurt too much. It was like a million invisible needles were piercing my skin, going straight through me, and lodging in the stone to hold me in place. I screamed at the pain, and Kiyo instantly raced toward the lich again. The larger the fox form, the more animal he was, and I had a feeling this was just a gut reaction at seeing me attacked.

The lich threw him off again with that invisible force—only harder this time. Kiyo slammed against the wall, slumping down to the cave’s floor. Weakly, he tried to stand up on all four legs but was too disoriented and injured. The lich turned back to me, and I saw death in his eyes. Had I really joked about this being easy? The only one this had been easy for was the lich. He’d taken us out with just a few spells, and now I would die. This was why those who wore the Iron Crown were feared. If you could survive this, you could survive anything.

“You will not wear the Iron Crown,” he repeated, lifting his hands for the final spell. “You are not worthy.”

I summoned my magic, despite the pain. A gale force wind blasted into him, making him stagger back. So. He wasn’t totally impervious to physical force. Calling the magic was difficult, but when Dorian had first trained me, we’d practiced casting spells in a number of uncomfortable positions. I increased the force of the wind, pushing the lich back a couple more steps. The Iron Crown didn’t budge, but the wind had pinned Kiyo up against the wall, almost making him go flat. I nearly hesitated, fearing I’d hurt him. He was still alive from the last hit. Surely he could handle this.

And that added force was a good call. It distracted the lich so that when I mentally pushed back against his spell, he couldn’t hold it. The invisible pins vanished, and I slid to the floor, landing shakily but upright. I still hurt and already felt worn out but held strong to my magic. It kept the lich away, but it also didn’t knock him into the walls the way he could us. His skull-face wore a perpetual grin, making this all that much more annoying.

“You don’t have the power,” he said, seeing I couldn’t do much more with the wind. “You are not worthy of the crown.”

White light began glowing between his hands. No fireballs this time. It was lightning. It flew from his hands with incredible speed—say, like, the speed of light—but I evaded it, with almost no thought. Lightning was in my skill set. My body was attuned to it, able to anticipate and avoid it even with its speed.

Nonetheless, the lightning blasted away half of the cave wall and the thunder that accompanied the bolt nearly left me deaf. Rocks and debris from the shattered stone were swept up in my windstorm, flying around the room like shrapnel. A few of them hit me. One cut my arm. In spite of it all, I laughed, sounding slightly crazy even to myself.

“You’re going to fight me with lightning?” I yelled above the raging wind, which I had managed to kick up a notch after all. “Do you know who I am?”

“I know you will never have the crown,” the lich replied, summoning more lightning.

His words dug into me, and not just because my life was on the line here. It was the meaning behind them. You are not worthy. A dismissal of me. Of my power. He really didn’t know who he was dealing with, though. He had no idea of the power I could wield, even in this iron dungeon. No one would say it directly, but I was beginning to suspect I was the most powerful magic user since my father. This bastard lich was about to find that out. He’d see my power. I’d destroy him and take his fucking crown.

“You call that lightning?” I yelled, after dodging the next bolt. My magical senses touched the molecules in the room, the positive and negative charges. The scent of ozone was everywhere. “This is lightning.”

I didn’t need my hands. I could create lightning from the air. It blasted into the lich and should have disintegrated him. He stayed intact, unfortunately, but the way he wobbled and didn’t instantly go for another bolt told me I’d made progress.

The magic burned within me, filling every ounce of my being as I held onto the surrounding air. The wind still blew, the ions stayed readied. In the center of it all was the crown, the crown I was going to walk out of here with. I would stop this war and show Katrice and everyone else not to screw with me.

But first, I needed to finish this. I considered continually blasting the lich with bolts, but another idea came to mind. It would bring all of this to an end quickly. Scientists have long debated the existence of ball lightning, but I knew it was real. I’d never really used it in a serious way but had experimented. Some of the principles of its formation were like those of “regular” lightning, but a few quirks were what made it unique—and so hard to study.

I knew how to summon it. I knew what it could do in here. Whereas the magically created bolts the lich and I had wielded had been shaped and controlled, ball lightning was huge and radiating. It would fill this cave, incinerating the lich. I wouldn’t be surprised if it melted the walls. And the crown? The crown would survive—as would I, being the magic’s mistress.

The power blasted out of me, lightning forming an orb in the cave that exploded outward, blinding even my eyes. The walls shook, heat washed over me, and a roaring filled my ears. I heard the lich scream, a horrible, raspy sound. I didn’t let go of the spell until his cry faded to silence. The ball lightning disappeared instantly, almost startlingly so. My own control of such power surprised me a little.

My ears rang in the silence. The crown stood unharmed, as expected. The pile of bones I’d expected was not there, however. Instead, a small, wizened man stood before me, dressed in the same purple robes. I reached out and readied my magic for this new threat. He didn’t move, though. To my astonishment, he smiled and gave me a small bow.

“Congratulations,” he said. He gestured to the crown. “You are worthy—if you can wear it, of course. And something tells me you can, if you’ve survived this much iron.”

I glanced back and forth between him and the crown, unbelieving. “I did it…. I won through. Won the crown. I defeated the lich … er, you … or whatever.”

“Certainly the lich was part of the test. It takes great magic to defeat one. But the test was about more than your power,” said the old man slyly. “It was about your determination. Your will. Your ruthlessness to get to the crown, no matter the cost.”

He stepped aside, waving his hand over at the cave’s side. I gasped. Kiyo—in human form—lay against the wall. His dark eyes were open, and I saw no obvious injuries. He was simply watching the interaction. I flew to his side, kneeling down.

“Oh my God. Are you okay?” I asked, helping him sit up. His breathing was even, though he looked a little addled. “Please … talk to me. Kiyo. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah …” He lightly touched his forehead and winced. “Hell of a headache.”

I could scarcely breathe. I felt numb all over. “You shouldn’t be alive,” I whispered. “You should have died.”

That ball lightning had eradiated the room. That had been my plan, after all. Destroy everything except me and the crown—and everything would have included Kiyo. In the moment, I had forgotten. I had forgotten all about him. I’d been too fixated on the crown, on proving to the lich who the real badass around here was. Kiyo hadn’t mattered in that moment, and it had nothing to do with our rocky relationship. I had the horrible, terrifying feeling that it wouldn’t have mattered who was in the room.

“Oh, God,” I said again, pulling his head against my chest. Tears stung my eyes. “Oh God oh God. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what … I don’t know what I was thinking….” A nasty voice spoke inside my head. Didn’t you?

“Hey, Eug, calm down,” said Kiyo, patting the back of my head. “I’m okay, don’t worry. You did it. You defeated it.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t get what I’d done—or nearly done. Clearly, whatever crazy, powerful magic was involved here had protected him for the sake of the test. But if it hadn’t …

“Seriously,” said Kiyo, still not understanding my distress. “I’m fine. Just got tossed around too much. Now go get the crown. He said it’s yours.” I pulled away and looked into Kiyo’s eyes, eyes full of fondness and pride. I didn’t deserve that look, but we needed the crown, and we needed to get out of here.

I rose unsteadily and walked over to the pedestal. The crown sat there ominously, and I glanced at the old man. He nodded encouragingly. If you can wear it. I supposed there was one more test, one I might fail. When my fingers touched the crown, I felt nothing, only cold metal. I lifted it gingerly, almost afraid of what I did. It was heavy—far heavier than my crown of state or fashionable ones. Yet, it fit my head perfectly, which was weird. When I’d first seen it, I’d been overwhelmed by its size. I’d been certain it would fall right off.

The old man beamed and bowed again. “And now it is yours. Its powers are yours. You can make armies tremble. You can rip away lands and subdue them. The world can be yours.”

Hoping I’d proven myself, I removed the crown. “I just hope I can end a war.”

Kiyo rose shakily to his feet. He no longer smiled. “What do you mean she can rip away lands?”

The old man spread his hands out wide. “That is the crown’s power.”

“The crown has no power,” I said, frowning. “It’s a prize, a status symbol for enduring all this.”

“A prize?” The old man’s eyebrows rose, and he gave a great belly laugh. “Do you believe all of that was just for a prize? For some bauble?”

Kiyo and I exchanged uneasy looks. “Then what does it do?” I asked.

“The Iron Crown allows you to break the bond between a monarch and his or her kingdom, thus freeing it. If you have the strength, you can then claim it.” The old man shrugged. “Why, with enough power, you could control half the kingdoms in this world.”

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