Dante pushed the horse to its limits as they galloped up the twisting mountain trail, like wind given flesh. Delilah's head was ringing with the din of battle even as they left it behind - the sounds echoed through the mountains.
"Why are we going up here?" Delilah gasped as the air started to grow thin.
"There's another portal here - to the Spectral Realm."
"We're getting reinforcements?" Relief swamped her, making her feel dizzy.
"Of a sort."
Delilah's leg was burning, and she guessed it would soon become infected if the battle didn't end soon. She forced the pain to the back of her mind, but she knew that it would only grow.
The horse finally halted and reared in protest at what lay before them: another arch of stone.
Delilah and Dante dismounted. When her bad leg hit the floor she nearly crumpled, but Dante wrapped an arm around her.
They took a few unsteady steps towards it.
"Do you know what you're doing?" she breathed, as the war crown started to glow.
"No, of course not. Now touch the Opals. I need you to help me do this."
Delilah reached up and put her hands on the crown. Instantly, it was like she and Dante were connected, and she felt what he was trying to do: pull up all the Opals' power, drawing everything out into the open. He was fixated on the arch.
"Dante," she gasped.
"Trust me."
Then the wraiths began to emerge, like fog at first, circling around them. The rest of the valley had vanished beyond their hisses and malicious faces.
"The battle is already lost. You might as well give in."
"You will die. Your friends are already dead."
No. No - Delilah couldn't stop the images that burst in front of her eyes: Nell, broken and bloody in the mud. Kaya's neck snapping as she fell from her crow. Hawk, fighting to get to her but being overwhelmed, brought down by one mighty swing.
Was this real, or were the wraiths trying to trick them?
Then, most terrible of all: "Your feelings make you weak, Delilah. He is still using you, and yet you let him do it gladly."
Delilah trembled, praying Dante hadn't heard that last one. But Dante was shaking, his face bloodless as the wraiths climbed up their legs and stroked their hair.
This was hell. And they were trapped - there was no getting out.
Delilah let go of the Opals with one hand. She found Dante's and squeezed it tightly, trying to shock them both back into reality.
"We are worse than our demons," Delilah breathed. "We are more monstrous than them. We can do this."
"Now!" Dante rasped.
And they shot all of the Opals' raw elemental power at the portal.
A blast of light cleaved through the wraiths and into the portal - which lit up, as veins of lightning flashed through the rock arch. The light was blinding as the mountain shook around them.
Then there was a blast like a cannon and the arch exploded. Rocks flew everywhere and Delilah felt like crying - it hadn't worked - until a beam of sickly green light shot up, out of the portal, arcing into the sky.
The power it gave off made her knees weak. The portal had turned into some kind of beacon, its light burning their eyes, the thrum of its energy turning her bones to jelly.
Something dark and ancient flickered inside.
"It's real," Dante breathed.
"What -?"
Then everything happened at once.
Dante barked in pain and hit the ground on all fours. Delilah spotted an arrow protruding from his back as men raced onto the plateau.
And the Black Phoenix of Vale burst out of the portal in a flurry of black, smoke-like feathers. Each one was lit with blue flame. Its terrible dark eyes scanned the living world as it tore free of the Spectral Realm - which must have been its cage - and let out a piercing shriek that sent needles of fire stabbing into Delilah's skull.
"Dante!" she screamed as the bird unfurled its burning wings and flapped them, rising higher into the air. A wave of unbearable cold swept over the plateau, and the soldiers nearby were yelling.
Dante coughed up blood as Delilah dropped to his side. "Dante -"
He was pressing something small into her hand. "Take - this," he coughed.
"What - what is it?" Delilah saw everything as a blur. She'd never felt so much terror in her life.
A battered, tarnished silver ring lay in her palm.
She forgot about the soldiers. Forgot about the Black Phoenix.
"A promise, Delilah Coppin," Dante breathed.
She stared at him, stricken. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. It was a brief, fierce kiss with the metallic tang of blood, that melted her insides, sent fire and lightning racing through her veins, and she reached out to him –
But Dante was pulling back, staggering to his feet as the Opals flickered feebly.
"Your reign of terror has ended, Night Bringer!" a soldier roared, and fired the next arrow. This one struck Dante's forearm, sending him stumbling away from her.
"No!" Delilah screamed.
The soldiers converged on Dante just as a pulse of cold blasted the mountain again - the phoenix's coldfire. Her legs buckled and she tried to crawl towards the fight. Her bones pulsed with agony.
Dante was using Hergest, fighting against the men even with the two arrows sticking out of him. Blood streaked his face, but the struggle was a whirl of deadly speed despite Dante being hopelessly outnumbered.
He was keeping them away from her. He was using the remains of his strength to... to protect her.
Delilah forced herself to her feet as they neared the cliff edge. She realised what was about to happen and decided to damn fate.
She spun around and screamed at the Black Phoenix, "I released you from your Spectral prison! I command you now - I am your master! You answer to me, the Fire Princess!"
To her astonishment, the phoenix dropped to the plateau floor in front of her, cocking its head.
Delilah ran at it, at Death itself, and grabbed hold of its feathers. She scrambled onto its back as if it was a crow, her legs instantly turning numb from pain and the cold it gave off. She settled herself and grabbed the feathers on the back of its neck - just as Dante dragged the soldiers off the edge of the mountain.
They vanished into empty air but Delilah squeezed the phoenix.
It surged forwards, giving another piercing cry, and lifted into flight.
Delilah tried to scream, but words were frozen in her throat. Air billowed past them, warm compared to the cold flames that licked the phoenix's wings.
"Dive!" she commanded, and the phoenix tucked its wings in tight. They hurtled towards the valley far below, flying vertical, and if Delilah had any room in her left for fear then she'd be paralysed -
The Black Phoenix was an ancient monster with incredible speed. So they drew level with Dante as he fell - they overtook him - and Delilah pressed on the phoenix's neck, angling it towards him.
She twisted round just as Dante hit the phoenix's back behind her, and grabbed hold of his arm so he wouldn't slide off again.
The ground loomed up to meet them.
"Up! Up!" Delilah shrieked.
Oh, ancestors - the phoenix wasn't responding, they were going to plough straight into the battle and their necks would break from impact -
The phoenix's wings snapped out at the last moment and the bird levelled out just above the heads of the fighters, many of whom stopped and gaped at it as it soared above their heads.
Delilah was crying, although she hadn't realised until now. "Dante," she breathed, but he was lifeless.
As the phoenix reached the other side of the valley it twisted, and Delilah felt herself begin to slide. She clung on to Dante as they both fell from its back, landing hard on the frozen earth.
The phoenix gave another horrifying cry as it spun in the air and dived for the battle. Coldfire roared in a path ahead of it, eating through men who didn't even have time to scream.
What have we done?
"Dante," Delilah choked, shaking him. The war crown and the Opals were gone, they'd fallen from his head.
His eyes opened a crack, but his breathing rattled in his chest and blood coated his mouth. "Take... them down," he croaked.
"Not without you. Listen to me!" she snarled, shaking him again. "We're going to live through this – together. What kind of Night Bringer would you be if you died right now?"
His throat bobbed. "Leave me," he whispered. "Survive."
She shook her head.
Too late - too late, she realised there were Pelenan soldiers charging towards them. The phoenix had dropped them behind enemy lines.
Delilah stood and unsheathed Ifling as she slipped the metal ring onto her finger. Her leg threatened to give way beneath her but she took a step. Then another.
They reached her, and each blow the soldiers struck against her grew stronger while hers grew weaker. Her sword went spinning from her hands.
Men had already surged past her - one of them kicked Dante in the stomach. Two more grabbed his arms.
Delilah roared in rage and dived for them, but a boot swung out of nowhere and collided with her face.
Blood burst from her nose as she hit the ground, where more men converged on her.
"No," she spat, surging to her feet and punching one man in the face. She could barely see through the blood.
They were dragging her away from Dante. Delilah screamed and kicked, clawed and fought them every step of the way, and a few soldiers crumpled but more always took their place. She was a storm of violence... but it was not enough. Dante had been surrounded. Were they killing him, or would they torture him first?
Delilah glanced across the Valley of Mist and saw the ground stained red with blood. A wave of men from Pelenu, Terra and Anloch were pouring towards them, obviously realising where the enemy leaders were. Further away, the phoenix was still killing - crowds of men dropped at a touch from its talons.
They had lost, Delilah realised, as her heart twisted. They had lost the battle for dominion of The four nations. Of course - of course the brave and noble heroes had won, like they always did. Marko would be crowned, and Finias would be an honoured companion by his side. Kai would go on to rule in peace.
But Delilah would not give up her desire for the throne, not as long as she still had breath and blood and muscles that worked. She would not stop, no matter how long they kept her alive after this as they tried to break her.
She was made of steel and adamant, and she would not be broken.
And she would fight for Dante, too, because as long as that ring sat on her finger, she would believe he would live. She'd see him again one day, no matter what, this man that she hated and adored so much it hurt.
The world was darkening around the valley, and the wind cried a mournful note as if already lamenting those who had fallen.
Maybe Delilah would never be able to reclaim her throne through brute strength and armies. But if she lived, if her family remained benevolent and did not give in to the hatred that had consumed her so long ago... There were other ways to fight back. Cunning, scheming, treacherous ways. Maybe she would still be able to claw her way to the throne. Maybe she could shed tears, keep a knife hidden behind her back, grow stronger after this defeat.
Delilah grinned as the phoenix swept over the battle once more, before it turned and started to fly north. She liked it - they were one and the same, creatures that had been caged too long in darkness. Creatures of ice and fire.
Delilah pulled her arms free, wrenching herself away from the men that were trying to control her. She let them see her wild, predatory grin, and the ice that sparked in her eyes. She watched their expressions change to horror and that satisfied her. She turned towards the crowd of enemies pouring towards her and Dante.
And she held her arms out to the storm and embraced her destruction.