SEVEN

    As Mars had predicted, Keith and his guard made short, brutal work of the ghouls. Keith was a whirlwind of destruction, Ember trailing arcs of supernatural fire that turned the shadowy creatures to ash. In short time, the field was clear. They returned to the carriage to find it overturned, the horses spooked and scattered.

    Keith’s gaze swept the area, his expression thunderous. "Where is he?"

    The mayor stammered, "The strange boy! He ran off into the dunes, with ghouls chasing him! He had a… a dark object!"

    Without a word, Keith was a streak of motion, following the trail of disturbed sand and fading malevolent energy.

    Meanwhile Mars was struggling trying not to die at the hands of these ugly fiends.

    "Just hold on a little longer," Mars whispered to himself, crouched behind a large, wind-sculpted sandstone rock. The cube throbbed in his arms, a beacon calling the two remaining ghouls who circled his hiding spot, their smoky forms hissing.

    Suddenly, a woman’s scream pierced the air. "Ah!"

    Mars peeked out. Charlotte had arrived, tumbling theatrically from her horse, a thin trickle of blood artistically tracing a path from her hairline. He burst from his hiding place, drawing the ghouls’ attention away from her. He brandished a useless, gnarled stick, swatting at the incorporeal monsters.

    Charlotte rose, her hand flicking subtly. A ring on her finger, seemingly a simple silver band, glowed with a faint purple light. Mars, who knew to look for it, saw it clearly. As he saw Keith’s fiery hair in the distance, approaching fast, he made his move. As Charlotte shoved him aside to “heroically” grab the cube, his fingers deftly slipped the ring from her finger.

    She held the cube aloft, a triumphant look on her face, ready for her moment. But the cube, unbound from its controller, began to crack, violet light spewing from its seams. The ghouls shrieked, drawn to the unleashed power.

    Meanwhile, Mars fumbled with the ring, his mind racing. He had to suppress the beast, cut it off from the energy of the battle. He focused all his will, imagining a cage, a seal, a lid slamming shut. His head pounded, his vision spotting with stars from the strain.

    Keith leaped into the clearing, Ember blazing. With two swift, devastating strokes, he cleaved the ghouls apart and their forms dissolving into nothingness. At that exact moment, as the last source of Khaos was extinguished, the cube in Charlotte’s arms fell dark and inert, the beast within starved and stillborn before it could ever live.

    Mars let out a shuddering sigh of relief, and his legs gave way. He groaned, collapsing to the sand, utterly spent.

    Charlotte didn’t miss a beat. She rushed to Keith, throwing herself against his chest. "I came to help, but I was so scared! Luckily, you came and saved me!" she sobbed. When Keith tried to push her away, her cries intensified. "I overheard a servant talking with a strange man about harming you! I had to do something and so i rushed here!"

    The two guards who had followed arrived and rushed to the unconscious Mars, hauling him up roughly. Keith watched them, his expression unreadable, as Charlotte continued to weep against his chest.

    Back in the carriage, with Charlotte clinging to him, Keith’s fury was a palpable heat. "Why did you come?"

    "Like i said, I came because you were in danger!" she insisted, repeating her fabricated tale and 'accidentally' letting slip the name of a conveniently disposable servant. "And you think I wouldn't have taken care of it myself, no?" Keith snorted, the sound dripping with disdain.

    Charlotte pressed on, her voice a masterful blend of hurt and devotion. "It could have been so much worse! You don't understand. You could have gotten killed! I love you, I never want to see you hurt, but you don't even love me back! You won't even take me to the Grandmasters' event, not even after I saved your life!" She let the crocodile tears flow.

    Keith let out a short, irritated grunt. The entire situation was a farce, but her persistence was its own kind of weapon. "Fine," he bit out. "You can come."

    Finally! Charlotte thought, a surge of triumph cutting through her false tears. The plan had been mangled, but the primary objective was secured.