“You used sacrificial magic?” I questioned. I don’t know why I hadn’t presumed he would. How else could they cast such strong spells to cloak them from the nymph’s foresight?
“I forced the spellcasters to. I wouldn’t be so reckless.”
The corner of my lip twitched. “It doesn’t matter, because you will never be able to hurt anyone again.” I launched myself forward, and adrenaline surged through my body. I extended my arm, holding the dagger toward his chest. I was so close to his heart when I felt hands grip my wrist. He twisted my arms and pushed me.
I fell back, stumbling over my own feet, and dropped the dagger.
“You were going to kill me?” He laughed, mockingly. “I was wrong. You do have some backbone.” I saw his hand. On his index finger, a silver ring shone.
My jaw dropped. “You found it.”
“Never underestimate me. Where do you think you get your intelligence from? Your fight? I’m just stronger, faster, smarter.”
My gaze shifted to the dagger that lay between us. Mer venom stained the floor. I got to my feet. “Then kill me,” I spat. “You want me dead, go ahead. End my life like you did André’s.”
He stormed toward me. I flinched back, but he grabbed my shoulders, looking me dead in the eyes. “I did not want your brother to die. I admired my son. He was going to be a great king. I tried protecting him in battle, but they sent in immortals. The light fae were the solises’ secret weapon, and the fae prince was the one who ran a sword through your brother. If you want to blame anyone, blame them.”
Tears stung my eyes. My father was still accountable in my eyes. André would never had gone if my father hadn’t ordered it. “Then they will pay with their lives, as will you. If I don’t kill you, war will come to Magaelor. If you continue to live, you will become worst; growing into a monster who cannot be saved. While you still have some reminiscence of a soul, I’ll send you to the other side where you can’t hurt anyone.”
The crown fell from his head, tousling his silver hair, and landed with a clash on the ground. I pulled back, gripped his hand, and tore the ring from it. He winced, then stumbled. He didn’t look away as he crumpled to his knees. The ring dropped from my sweaty hand, tumbling to the ground. Shivers coursed through my veins as he took his final breath.
I walked over to the window. My father’s blue and stiff body was behind me, on the floor where I’d left him. Morgana was coming. I could sense her magic. I looked out at the dark sky and inhaled sharply. I’d murdered him−regicide−and I couldn’t get caught.
Painfully, I turned, grabbing everything I could which could aid me into getting away from here for a couple of weeks, at least until any suspicion of my involvement was erased. No one could know I was alive. I shoved it all into a drawstring bag, picked up the ring of immortalem, then walked to the door. Morgana rushed in. She grabbed my arm and pushed me out of the bedroom door. My hip cracked against a stone pillar. I hid behind it.
“Go! Run. Now.” She screamed as guards’ footsteps echoed up the steps. I left behind everything, my dearest friend, my crown, my kingdom, moving forward as the princess of nothing.
THE PRINCESS OF NOTHING
Book Two
By Rebecca L. Garcia
ONE
Distance was all that mattered against the rising sun. I ran down the winding, rain-soaked cobbled streets, hoping for an escape plan to materialize in the time it would take me to reach the docks.
Dark clouds beat heavy drops onto the slate roofs of the shops lining the road. Sweat dripped down my face and into my eyes, stinging them shut. I blew out a pained breath, then forced my eyes open and looked up at the gray horizon that merged with the rising waves at the port. Boats rocked side to side as rain lashed onto the decks and the waves licked the hulls. Seagulls whipped through the air like swashes of gray against the stormy canvas. My breath fogged in front of me as lightning flashed the sky blue and purple. I was certain the thunderstorm was an omen, marking the day I had become a murderer.
My chest tightened as I carried my new identity, charging toward freedom. Darting glances at the traders setting up their stalls, I felt as if everyone were judging me. As if they could somehow see through the girl and to the killer beneath. The morning’s events weighed heavily on my shoulders. I pushed forward, using the spike of energy to ignore the pain tearing through my soul. I couldn’t stop. Not yet.
The Ring of Immortalem, which I had torn from my father’s finger, was heavy in my pocket. Clanking against it was the rune Morgana had given me to protect me from the power of foresight. It cloaked my whereabouts from the forest nymph still at the castle.
Strands of hair stuck to my cheeks. I was shaking, from adrenaline, the cold, or both. I did my best to stop my teeth from chattering, but the truth was I wanted to break down in the middle of the street, to cry and wail, but I kept pushing forward.
I pulled the hood of my best traveling cloak forward, casting shadow and anonymity over my features. The princess who was believed dead could not be seen. One rumor could ruin everything. All that mattered was for me to right the wrongs my family had inflicted through their rule and take back Magaelor.
First, I would have to shed all suspicion. After all, the king had been found dead in my room, and we had publicly fallen out not long before, while in Niferum. I’d be suspect number one if anyone knew I was alive and in Magaelor when he was killed. I had to flee, as Morgana had insisted, then return before month’s end with yet another heroic tale of survival, ready to claim my throne.
I had to be strong, more so than ever before. My people needed me. I saw it more with the rising tide of homeless wandering the streets staffless, unable to use the magic that was their right. There was change coming, and I would bring it. No more would those with little coin not have access to their ancestral roots through magic. I had no idea, until Morgana had told me, that anyone even had to pay for their staffs. Mine was given to me when I turned seven, like everyone else at the academy. Granted, it was a school for nobles, which most likely had something to do with my ignorance.
My foot sank into a puddle, squashing a discarded newspaper. I took a moment to catch my breath. I’d stolen what I could carry without being detected: precious gems, gold coins, the key to the shadow market, and the dagger André had gifted me. The drawstring bag bounced over my shoulder when I broke into a run once again.
The road turned sandy. I sucked in a deep breath, then paused and placed my hands on my knees. How was I going to get out of Imperia without detection? Everyone thought me lost to the harsh winter in Niferum. No one but Aquarius and his crew knew I was back in Magaelor, except Morgana.
My heart sank.
Morgana. My only friend, now rotting in a dungeon.
She’d been locked away for treason after coming to where the king lay dead, to warn me the guards were on their way. She begged me to run before anyone saw me, and I did. I watched from behind a stone pillar, just making it out before they reached my room, as she was dragged to the dungeons. It took everything I had to turn away, knowing we’d both be dead if I didn’t. If I hadn’t left it would all have been in vain, but no matter how I justified it, a piece of my heart was left behind with her. I wanted to go back, to save Morgana, but what use would I be? I wondered if they’d execute her. Treason was punishable by death, but there had to be a trial first, which would take time. They knew she’d visited the king’s chamber to give him a message, then she was found by his body. What choice would they have but to presume her guilty? Perhaps I should have turned back. There was still time to save her, no matter the cost, my only real friend. The thought of her trapped in the dungeons, labeled a treasonist, made me choke on a cry.
“You there.”
I froze. My mind raced to a halt.
“What’s that?” a guard shouted. He had thick brown hair and held a sword in one hand and his staff in the other. He was pointing at my bag.
I didn’t dare look up. Keeping my face hidden beneat
h my thick hood, I let out a long exhale. My heart hammered. If I was caught, it would all be for nothing. Morgana’s capture, my father’s death... Trembling, I grabbed my staff, feeling the gentle pulse of magic beneath my fingers. I searched my mind quickly for the incantation of a sleeping spell. I recalled the words, letting them roll off my tongue, caressing the magic from my staff as they spilled into the distance between us. Silver and blue streaks of magic snaked toward the guard. My lip twitched and my knuckles tightened around the ash wood. The spell reached him, but he countered it using his own magic. I clenched my jaw, then closed my eyes for a moment. I had mere seconds to concentrate. Saying the words aloud packed more force into the delivery.
Other guards clamored behind him, uniformed in blues and silvers. Unlike the guards at the castle wearing red and gold, who were charged with protecting the royal family, these men defended the people and enforced the laws of the land.
Casting my eyes downward, praying they wouldn’t be able to see my face behind the rain and the shadows of my cloak, I bit my lip.
“Arrest her,” the first guard ordered.
On his command, they all rushed at me.
I ground my teeth, then cursed under my breath. The scuffle was drawing the attention of early morning traders and shoppers. A crowd swelled as the guards closed in around me. I flexed my fingers, the icy blade of the wind cutting all feeling from the tips.
This was my only chance. I couldn’t be recognized. They needed to be stopped.
The guards closed the distance between us. When they reached me, I uttered the words of an ancient spell I’d always been curious to use, but never had the right opportunity until now. I let the magic course through me, fueling my rage into a thunderous boom. Splints of gold waves exploded out the end of my staff, throwing the men backward. It looped around their necks and limbs as they stumbled over the wet cobbled stone. The magic weakened me temporarily. The spell would give them amnesia, making them forget what had happened once they awoke from a small bout of unconsciousness. However, some of their memories up until that point could be altered too. It was a magic I would only use sparingly, but they couldn’t be allowed to remember.
I mustered what energy I had left, then headed toward a narrow alleyway. I squeezed through centuries-old stone, down what had to be the narrowest street in the whole of Magaelor, then emerged out the other side. Darting to my left, I heard the bellowing of men who’d either just entered the nearby tavern or hadn’t yet left. I was at the harbor’s edge, standing in front of the shopfronts of supplies, eateries, and inns, the first stop for sailors and fishermen. My hands gripped the railings, and my eyes flitted to the grandest ship with tall sails and a mast that swayed against the blue backdrop. I let go of the railing and pressed my hands against my knees, leaning over to catch my breath. I had to leave, and I knew the best place to go. It was somewhere I could lay low and where I could get information that could save my kingdom, but it was risky.
I turned around. An eerie feeling of being watched washed over me. I squinted, craning my neck to see around the side of a taffy shop. A man with pointed ears wearing a blue silk cloak was staring at me. His head was poking out, but as soon as I blinked, he was gone. I could have sworn he was a faery, but it was impossible. The fae would never venture into our kingdom, aside from the court ambassadors, but they’d only head straight to the castle.
I shook my head, then puffed out my cheeks. “Get it together,” I urged myself. I’d been thinking about him again, even among all the fear and uncertainty. His presence was so strong in my mind, it made me hallucinate fae. Blaise. I was still so angry at him, and in a cruel twist of fate, he had become an enemy, a threat to my crown and throne, but a naïve part of me still clung to a curiosity, an idea of him, wondering if he would change his mind or even help me.
I shook my head. It was a ridiculous notion to believe I was ever more to him than the game piece he needed to rule two kingdoms. I reminded myself he wanted to take my kingdom from me and dismantle the Mortis family rule. My people would fall to ruin under the fae’s unorganized, pleasure-seeking monarchy. He couldn’t even keep the fae in his own kingdom under control. We were anointed by our ancestors and the energy that ruled them. It was my birthright, and no one was going to take it away from me. I had an opportunity, a chance to change things, and I owed it to my ancestors, to my people, and to my brother, André, who believed in so many things but was taken from the world before he could enact any of them.
I clenched my fists and looked around. I needed to be smart. I needed to get out. The longer I stayed there, the more the future of my crown slipped through my fingers and into Edgar’s. I couldn’t hide in my kingdom. I was without a friend in Magaelor. While the place that held everything that mattered to me was right here, my home, it was also where I was most alone.
I had no choice. The realization brought a new anxiety, stealing my next breath. I had to travel back to where this entire mess had begun, where everything had started to unravel in my life, and where the friends I had betrayed were possibly dead. I needed to lay low in a place I knew I could blend in, like I had done before.
Berovia.
I whipped my head back to look at the tavern. It looked to be the type of place where mercenaries would go, and I needed one, or several, if I was going to make it out and across the mer-filled ocean alive. I wished Aquarius and Bella hadn’t left, taking their ship with them. They knew the waters better than anyone else.
Pushing open the large, wood doors, I inhaled the frowsty air. The smell of cigar smoke and stale ale lingered as I pushed myself between burly men drinking to the first lights of morning. The polished chestnut bar was covered with drops of cider and ale. A hoard of empty wooden cups was stacked at the far end of the bar. Some were carved with different markings, personalized, perhaps made as a gift. I’d seen them before when my father traveled through the kingdom to address the people and I’d gone with him. Of course, there were glasses lying around too, but wood was still favored, especially among the lower classes.
I spotted an empty square table in a dimly lit corner, with stools lining either side. Men were eyeing me while I hurried to the unoccupied area. The landlord was peering over the bar, trying to get a better look at me. My traveling cloak was made of velvet with a fur trim, meaning I was too highborn to be drinking in an establishment like this. I should have dressed in something less conspicuous, but it was too late for that. I had taken a calculated risk coming inside. They would be drunk, therefore less likely to recognize me, not to mention, who would be looking for a princess in a place like this?
A barrel-chested man with pointed eyes and a small chin stomped to where I was standing. I white-knuckled my drawstring bag and cleared my throat. “I’m not here for any trouble,” I explained when he reached me. I took a step back, and the back of my heel hit a stool. “I’m looking for a mercenary.”
The room fell silent. I scanned the area, my eyes trailing from one wood-paneled wall to the next, pausing at each table for any sign of familiarity. There was none. It was wall-to-wall with bleary-eyed men. My heart thumped, then skipped a beat. They were all looking at me.
“Young girl like you shouldn’t be in a place like this.” He scratched his bald head.
A shaggy-faced man behind him chimed in. “Lots er strangers out ’ere in these parts. Where er ya hailing from, maid?”
I tilted my chin upward and rolled my shoulders back. I wanted to appear brave. I couldn’t show any sign of fear to these people. “Not far…” I hesitated. “Aurum,” I lied. It was the closest town to Imperia and the castle. Luckily for me, it seemed none of them knew who I was.
The beefy man cocked his eyebrow, then looked back at the other men and guffawed. “An Aurum lady.”
The shaggy-faced man looked at my hands. “Stop it, Don, poor maid is shaking, look.”
I swallowed thickly and looked down at my hands.
Don slapped his hand on my shoulder, making me jump back a foot. �
��Calm down, girl.” He put his hands in the air. “We’re not gonna hurt you here. What can we help ya with?”
Don’s rough, rugged fingers told me he worked in a labor job. The shaggy-faced man smelled like fish and wore a thick brown jacket and holey boots. I guessed he was a fisherman.
“She said she was after a mercenary.” A man’s voice rose above the rising chatter. His tone was eloquent. As he stood from the back of the tavern, pressed against the wall, the tall man’s dark eyes found mine. He had sharp features, only softened slightly by the warm yellow glow of a lamp flickering above his head. He appeared to be in his late forties and was dressed handsomely in a long blue jacket, with a white collar poking out from underneath. “That would be me.” He looked me up and down, his eyes pausing longer on my bag, then took out his pipe and puffed a circle of smoke into the air. He pushed past Don and the fisherman, shooing them away.
Five other men followed the tall man. “I’m Hawk.” He extended his hand. “So, Miss…”
I spluttered on my name. “Smith.”
He looked back, then cast his eyes down to my bag. A hint of a smile played on his thin lips. “Right,” he said, not sounding convinced. “What do you want a mercenary for?”
I could see Don and the other man still watching me. The corners of their eyes were wrinkled as they peered around Hawk and his men. Don spoke up. “If you need us, young lady, we’re right here.”
Hawk scowled in their direction. I nodded at Don, offering a small smile, and they looked away. “Thank you.” I shouldn’t have judged them. I hated that there was still a small part of me which did that. They seemed nice, slightly protective even. I’d been taught to fear the lower classes, but they were just making an honest living, and could be good or bad just like everyone else.
Hawk gestured for me to sit down. I took the stool closest to the wall and rested my bag on my lap. I tapped my fingers against the fabric, taking each breath deeper into my aching lungs. The smoky air was suffocating. “If you pay us enough, we can forget about your real name.”
The Fate of Crowns: The Complete Trilogy: A YA Epic Fantasy Boxset Page 27