by Elena Lawson
I couldn’t help the shiver. Or how my breath shuddered on the way out.
I knew now why they called him the Mad King. It was written in every inch of him. In every tensed, twitching muscle.
“Welcome!” he said in a raspy, low bellow, shooting from his seat into a bow. His thin arms spread wide on either side of him. His cloak giving him the illusion of wings. “I was doubting I’d ever see this glorious day.”
He licked his lips.
My own mouth was locked up tight. I had been so ready. I had planned what I’d say to him, but the words were lost in the face of what lie before me.
“You’re a monster,” I finally said, the words coming out weaker than I’d meant them. I swallowed back the bile fighting to rise in my throat.
The Mad King chuckled, the sound morphing into something higher pitched. A strangled cackling. “You sound just like her,” he said between fits of laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “You know, you look like her too.”
Morgana. I looked like Morgana. His daughter. The reminder that me and this—this creature shared a bloodline made my skin crawl.
“And now finally—finally I can extinguish the last remaining trace of my foolish daughter.”
A shimmer caught my eye, and I saw the hilt of the blade. Belted to the Mad King’s waist. So, he’d gotten it back. I bit my cheek, stopping myself from looking at the ring I still wore on my finger. Trying not to wonder if Thana had lived. If he’d killed her himself, or if she had truly died by my own hand.
Never take it off, Morgana had said. But would I have a choice? When I was dead, he would have it. And we still didn’t even know its purpose.
A male entered from behind us, knocking hard into my shoulder as he passed.
“You called for me, majesty,” he said. The Draconian cleared the space between where we stood and the throne. And when he turned, I recognized his face—burned almost beyond recognition. It was the one who’d tried to rape me. He was a horror to behold. Like his face was formed of clay and someone had smashed it on both sides.
Ricon nodded, “I did,” he said, and turned his attention to the male holding Aisling behind me. I had all but forgotten she was there. “Bring me the girl,” he ordered his soldier, who dutifully shoved Aisling forward. She pushed against him and he knocked her to the ground.
“Don’t touch her,” I yelled, pulling against Valin and the other male. They held me steady. I could barely move. I pulled and pulled—yanked at that place in my core where my Graces lived, but nothing answered my call.
I knew what would happen—what he would do to her. He pulled the Blessed Blade from his side.
He was after he Grace. And he would test it on the Draconian I burned after… after he killed her.
“Come now. It will only hurt for a moment,” The Mad King crooned, beckoning Aisling forward like a father would beckon his child.
Aisling rose from the ground, whimpering. She stood straight, her spine erect. “What—what are you doing to me?” she asked between shaking, quick breaths.
She stepped forward. And stepped again. Walking to the dais and the Mad King as though walking towards a friend. Ricon’s eyes glittered, an open-mouthed smile on his face. He never took his eyes from Aisling.
“Stop,” she shouted at him, “Please,” and yet she kept walking, with no prodding from the soldier following her.
And I knew right then what was happening, and it made my stomach turn. Finn had said it, but I hadn’t truly thought about what it could mean. Our Graces develop over time. His words repeated in my mind, imagine Alaric’s Grace developed—evolved—over the course of a thousand years.
No one knew what that would look like. The Grace was rare, and those blessed with it tended to die young. Whether by their own hands, or by the hands of those who don’t trust them to use their power wisely. It was a dangerous Grace to begin with.
But this—this was something else entirely. He needed no contact with the person, and could put not only an emotion, but something more like a command into their minds.
I could hardly breathe. Powerless to do anything but stare wide-eyed as Aisling gave herself over for slaughter.
But wait… my ring—the stone. Didn’t he need the fifth stone for the blade to do its duty? Tiernan’s look of confusion at my mention of the fifth stone’s setting made me doubt it. He had said it was an addition, and not part of the original blade.
Never take it off. If only I knew what it was for, perhaps I could use it against him.
“Please,” I called to the Mad King, “Don’t hurt her. Take me, just let her go.”
“Oh, my dear, you’ll have your turn. Patience,” he said, never removing his eyes from Aisling as she stepped up one, two stone steps and onto the dais. She was sobbing, her shoulders shaking.
My own eyes filled with hot, angry tears. I was going to watch her die. And there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
Ricon caressed her face, brushed her long hair back. Tilted her chin up to look him in the eyes.
It was a miracle I didn’t wretch.
He hushed her, “Don’t fret,” he said, looking down upon her, “A part of you will live on—within me.” Then he plunged the dagger into her chest.
A bloodcurdling scream tore through the throne room, echoing its agony up into the skies. Pleading. Broken.
It took me a moment to realize the sound had come from my own lips.
And it was too much. It was all too much. She couldn’t be dead. I hadn’t just watched her die. No. It didn’t happen.
Couldn’t have.
Ricon’s eyes rolled back into his head, his pupils glowing violet before his gaze settled on me. It was done. The transfer of Aisling’s Grace to the Mad King was complete. With an indifferent shove, he removed the blade from her chest and she fell. Her lifeless body slumped to the ground in a heap of beaded satin and tangled mahogany hair.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Finn
My arms screamed in burning protest as we reached the top, climbing the last few yards to the base of the palace where there’s an opening in the stone wall. It was nearly full dark, thank the gods. If there were too many of them in there, at least they could use the cover of darkness to escape.
Ahead of me, Alaric lifted his head to see inside. He held his hand in a fist—telling us to hold back. He climbed over the ledge quick and quiet as a spider over earth. A few seconds later, a feint grunt and he’s leaned back over, waving us to come up.
I lunged over the opening—stretching out the tension in my arms and thighs. A soldier lay dead at my feet. His neck snapped. We waited for the others to climb inside before we set off down the corridor, without even so much as torchlight to see by. Good, then they wouldn’t see us coming.
We picked off four more soldiers before the corridor ended at a fork. We could continue straight, go left, or right. It was deadly quiet. I listened with the others but heard no movement. No shuffle of boots on stone. Not even the sounds of breathing. If there were any more of the Mad Kings soldiers to be found in the palace, there weren’t many more.
There were three with Liana and Aisling including Valin. The two Dracs circling on the outside. And the Mad King. I didn’t know what to expect of the male in terms of power. But with Kade’s fire and my ice and our combined skill in combat, our odds weren’t awful. And it went unspoken that this was a mission some of us may not return from.
Liana was the goal. Save her. Whatever it takes. Now we just needed to figure out which way to go. I bent, looking for small boot tracks in the dusty floor, “I don’t see—”
A long, horrified scream pierced a hole in the placid night, ramming me right in the chest. It was Liana. There was no doubting it.
As one, we ran down the passageway to the right, Alaric in the lead—sword out. Us on his heels—Kade lighting the way with fists coated in flame.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Liana
The male to my right jerked, his hand releasing
its grip on my arm. A sword, coated in crimson, protruded from his belly. A split second and Valin has released me, too. I nearly fell, catching myself, whirling to the clashing of steel against steel. Alaric drove his sword down against Valin’s, a fury in his eyes like I’d never seen in him before.
The others crashed into the throne room behind him—panting, ready for action. Relief flooding their expressions for an instant when their gazes met my own before they rushed into action.
My heart soared, then I remembered, and it sputtered. My lungs near collapse.
“What’s this?” Ricon said, and I spun to find him, arms raised, his sights fixed on my males.
No. “Run,” I shouted at them, but it was too late. Valin sheathed his sword, and Alaric just stood there. They all just stood there. I lunged for Finn, he was the closest, shoving my shoulders into his chest, trying to force him back.
“Liana,” he said, his hand frozen on the hilt of his sword. “Go,” he begged, his eyes widening. Finn. I knew he had planned for everything, but he didn’t plan for this.
The Mad King had them all in his clutches. Their minds were his.
And Tiernan, his jaw set, as though he’d already accepted his fate whispered, “It’s alright.”
Kade’s fists burned, but as I watched, the flames waned, until they were snuffed out entirely. “Coward!” he seethed, his teeth bared, “You’re no king. There’s no honor is this.”
The Mad King clasped his hands together. Cocked his head at the mountain of male who’d spoken, “But this is so much more fun, don’t you think?”
Alaric. I almost couldn’t bring myself to look at him, but then I did. His stormy eyes fixated on me. I could tell he was trying to keep composure—but not for his own pride. He held back for me. He was being strong for me.
And my heart broke at the sight of him.
Rough hands grabbed me by the shoulders, wrenching me from Finn.
“Bastard,” my Draconian warrior shouted, spitting at Valin. “You’re no hero.”
Valin clucked his tongue, dragging me away from them. I fought against him with every ounce of strength I had. Pulling and twisting, shouting every manner of obscenity. But Valin’s Grace of strength wouldn’t be beat. Without my Graces and with my arms tied behind my back, I could do nothing.
I was nothing. Useless.
Powerless to stop whatever horrors he would inflict on my males. A chasm formed in my core. A deep, black place. Every bit of hope I had left flung itself inside, plummeting into the dark.
It hurt to breathe. I cried silently, the tears slipping down my face—falling to the floor without end.
“How sweet.” The raspy voice broke me free of the torment, “You really are my daughter’s kin, aren’t you,” The Mad King said, a note of disgust in his tone. “I can feel it—all your emotions. And theirs.” He jabbed a thin finger at my guard.
“I told you,” Valin said smugly from behind me, the places where he held my arms bruising from the pressure of his squeezing fingers.
The Mad King shook his head, pulling Alaric forward.
He lurched into step, stopping ten paces in front of me. He couldn’t hide it anymore, I could see the fear in his eyes. The male who had the power to control the emotions of others was now the one being controlled. If anyone understood what Ricon could do with his heightened Grace—it was Alaric.
“It’s never too late to learn a valuable lesson, so this one will be your last. Something to remember in the afterlife, Liana. There is no room for love while you wear the crown.”
Kade gasped, and I watched him jolt forward, meeting Alaric face to face in front of me.
“Please,” I heard myself rasp between fevered breaths, “Please, don’t.”
But the Mad King didn’t deign to give me a response. Kade unsheathed his blade, bewildered as he watched his own movements. He fought against Ricon’s compulsion. His hand shaking. The veins in his arms and neck near bursting.
I was going to watch Kade kill Alaric. Kade would watch himself kill his own captain—his friend.
Alaric’s sword clattered to the stone at his feet. His gaze fixed on Kade. Resolute. “It’s alright,” he said to his comrade, “It isn’t you, Kade.”
“Alaric,” Kade gasped, “I can’t—I can’t fight it.”
The sword raised higher, and I knew. I knew the moment Kade couldn’t hold back any longer that that sword would find flesh. My pulse pounded in my ears. I yanked at my arms, throwing myself forward, I couldn’t let him do it.
I couldn’t watch this happen.
“Alaric,” I called, and he turned. His expression was peaceful. He smiled—and in that smile was every word he didn’t say. It was I love you, it was It’s alright. It was Goodbye.
I hauled in a strong, heavy breath and threw my body backward instead. My fisted hands met Valin’s groin and the top of my skull smashed into his jaw. His grip loosened, and I yanked myself free. I sprinted forward, stumbling. Watched Kade loose his held breath and his sword shoot forward.
No! I lunged, and the cold bite of steel punched into my abdomen. Through flesh, muscle, and sinew. A blow so hard the air was knocked from my lungs and I struggled to force it back down. As though something was blocking my airway. It throbbed in time with my pulse and I looked down to see the blade seated inside me up to the hilt.
A wetness dripped, running down my stomach. It was hot. And cold. And heavy. And light as a feather. It was both all consuming, and nothing at all.
Kade’s gaping mouth wavered in and out of focus.
Strong, gentle arms curved around my back, and a mighty, broken, roar reverberated in my chest. The sound like agony embodied in the form of sound.
There were running footsteps. A hot, blinding blaze of light. The chain around my neck was ripped away. My body lifted into the air.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Alaric
The power holding my body in place vanished like a cut thread. And all at once I came back to myself. Liana fell into my waiting arms. Broken and bleeding. I screamed at the feeling of her pain, using all the air I had in my lungs. I pushed out the anguish. Shoved back the fear. Accepted the ugly truth.
Kade ignited. His Grace freed from its tomb. A blaze unlike any I’d ever seen him wield shot from his palms—filling the entire space—the entire world with its blinding light and scorching warmth.
Valin was reduced to cinder, scattered to the wind.
This was our chance. I tore the necklace from Liana’s neck. Hoping—praying to whatever gods could hear me that she be able to heal. But there was so much blood. Seeping from her stomach, soaking through her gown. Pooling on the pockmarked stones.
Kade could only keep the Mad King at bay for so long. We had seconds before he regained focus and wiped us all out.
“Take her!” I ordered Finn as he approached.
I kissed Liana swiftly on the forehead. “I made you a promise. And if you go, I will follow you.” And then I wrenched the sword from her body.
Finn lifted her, cradling her in his arms. Tears fell freely against his cheeks. “Get Tiernan and get out of here. Get her home.”
The Draconian nodded once and spun, hunting for Tiernan in the melee that ensured. I saw him, the blond warrior, with two dead soldiers at his feet. And a third, falling from the edge of his sword. “Go!” I shouted, and he sprinted for Finn, the three shooting into the air.
“The stone!” Someone bellowed, and I remembered the ring on her finger. It was why he’d brought her here. He wouldn’t stop until he got what he was after.
“Kade,” I hollered, unable to get near him—a wall of roaring flame blocking my path. A winged male shot down from the sky, barrelling into Kade. A mistake. He squealed, and I cringed inwardly as he burned. “Kade,” I hollered again, and two glowing yellow eyes fell on me. I nodded to the sky, and he looked up. Saw his brother with Liana under one arm, and Tiernan under the other. He saw other Draconian flying straight for them.
Kade clen
ched his teeth and charged for me, extinguishing the flames on one hand. I caught that hand in mine as he took off from the ground.
We wouldn’t make it.
“Finn,” I called, and he spun, his eyes widening when he saw the other Draconian speeding towards him.
A flash of brown and white. It was Arrow, loosing a hair-raising screech before the falcon dug his talons into the Drac’s face—scratching at his eyes, giving Finn the chance to get away.
The Mad King’s winged soldier didn’t stand a chance. Arrow left him blinded and Kade sped up, grabbing hold of the Drac’s flailing arm when Arrow was done. Burned him to cinder and ash that fell like morbid snow over the throne room below.
Ricon was down, and another Drac tried to rouse him. The force of Kade’s blast must’ve knocked him unconscious.
I doubted we were lucky enough for him to be dead.
We needed only seconds more to be out of the reach of his Grace. Not even he could control a mind from miles away. It simply wasn’t possible. Though, what I’d seen and experienced was thought to be impossible too—before he’d done it.
No one followed, so, I had to assume they were all dead save for the last remaining Drac and the creature he bowed to. His followers’ bodies would rot away with what remained of the ancient palace.
Finn flew in close, “Here, take Tiernan,” he said to his brother, and a lance went through my stomach at the sight of her. Pale—her skin almost gray.
I shifted out of the way so Kade could take Tiernan under his other arm, “She won’t wake,” the blond warrior said, his voice strained. He grimaced when he tried to raise his head. A long slice ran from his shoulder blade up the side of his neck. But he would live. Though it bled, it wasn’t deep.
“Faster, we have to get her to Loris. She’s too weak to heal herself.”
Finn beat his wings harder and Kade—even with the extra weight, matched his brothers speed. I didn’t dare look up at the Draconian, at my fire-Graced comrade. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but I still couldn’t make sense of what happened. I watched him run her through with his own blade. I saw in his eyes the moment he gave in to the compelling force of the Mad King’s Grace. If he had held on, just a little longer—