She stared at him. “That’s not what happened.”
“That’s what they wanted you to believe,” he countered. “They’re broken, your majesty. And not simply because they don’t have magic. They want to be part of a world they can never have, and each one of them is more than willing to lie, cheat, and manipulate their way into it, if necessary. I’m sure they made themselves sound like victims. They always do. The whole world is after them, to their mind, when in reality, all the world wants is for them to accept their place.” He scoffed at her enraged expression. “And yet you still want to defend them as innocent. But did they tell you how they murder our kind too? Or did they justify it to you, with their imaginary crimes and vigilante heroes? Did you actually meet Carter and his little–”
“The Hunters?” she snapped. “Yeah, I met them. Who do you think kept me alive this past month?”
Breathing hard, she stared around the table. “Do you all even know what’s going on out there? Ferals are butchering people in the streets – the very people who can see the Blood wizards and help you take them out. There’s a whole other war going on, and while you were writing it off as rumor and mocking the cripples for their ‘fantasies’, it went out and killed my family!”
Sebastian gave her a wry look. “No disrespect, your majesty,” he said, his voice twisting the last word perilously close to an insult. “But in your one entire month of suffering from this war, I don’t believe you’ve earned the right to speak to the years of loss we’ve had to endure. And before you let a bunch of defectives convince you how to see the world, perhaps you’ll heed the advice of wizards who’ve been leading their people since before you were in diapers, and who actually know what wielding magic means.”
She blinked, struck speechless. Around the table, council members shifted, their expressions lost in a gradient of meticulous impassivity and discomfited agreement.
“That,” Darius said, razors edging his tone. “Will be quite enough, Councilman Monroe.”
Disgustedly, Sebastian looked away.
“My apologies, your highness,” Darius continued, glancing at the rest of the council before returning to Sebastian with a look that could have pierced steel. “For the opinions of some of our members. I assure you they are not shared by all.”
For a moment longer, he pinned the other man with his gaze, and then turned back to her as though dismissing Sebastian from relevance. “Will the cripples listen to you?” he continued.
She paused and then nodded, still shaking with residual fury.
Darius echoed the motion thoughtfully, his eyes moving occasionally to the wizards nearby. “Then you have done better than us.”
Her brow drew down.
“It is true that eight years ago, Josiah tried to tell us the same information you’re passing along now. And it is true that, at the time, we refused to believe him. It could even be said that we were, as you put it, mocking. But that disagreement sent Josiah from our midst, and we have not seen him since that day. He gathered his people and fled to the far corners of the country, and if we heard of him at all, it was only from the bodies he and his ‘Hunters’ left behind.
“I apologize that remnants of the bad feelings left by those realities have come back to show you such unparalleled disrespect.”
She said nothing.
“And yet,” he continued, “regardless of what happened later, I cannot help but wonder what it would have cost us to simply have verified Josiah’s story. Perhaps it would have proved to be nothing. Or perhaps…” his jaw tightened briefly, “perhaps King Patrick, your sister, and who knows how many others would still be alive.”
He fell silent. From the corners of her eyes, she could see the rest of the council, their gazes on the table with clear expressions of unwillingness to speak.
Darius drew a breath. “So I propose we do as you suggest. We invite the cripples back. We form a joint task force comprised of carefully selected wizards who will be open to what we’re asking–” his gaze landed sharply on Sebastian, “–and who will work alongside the cripples. If these ‘Blood wizards’ you describe prove to be fantasy, so be it. But if not…”
He met her eyes across the length of the table. “You may be young,” he said solemnly, “and you may have lived a life till recently that would leave some jealous. But that does not give us the right to deride your information or assume that, because you have not had the same experiences as us, you must be wrong.” He paused, regret flickering over his face. “We’ve burned enough bridges in this war.”
Darius glanced to the council. “I would take this to a vote,” he said, a touch coldly. “But as sole remaining heir of Merlin and ruler by right of the laws we have dedicated our lives to uphold, Queen Ashe unquestionably has the final word. If she asks this of us, we will see it done.”
He looked back at her and raised an eyebrow.
Ashe’s heart quivered, the ludicrous authority Darius was handing her suddenly hitting her in full force. Everything Carter wanted, and with a single command, it would begin. Incredulity burbled up inside and she swallowed, trying to appear calm. “I do,” she managed.
He nodded. “Then I have only one thing to ask in return. If we do this, if we send out wizards to fight these invisible monsters you describe… you do not go with them.”
Her brow twitched downward.
“You are the last of the royal family, your highness,” he explained, a hint of gentleness in his tone. “You are all that stands between us and the loss of our magic to the Taliesin king, and you are quite literally our only hope of uncovering the spell to bind our enemies again. For you to be lost to us in a battle or even just an accident…” He shook his head. “It is unthinkable. We need you here as a symbol to our people, to give them hope and courage so they can go out and fight the enemies that have plagued us for so long. They need you here so they can know that, even if they die, hope for their families and loved ones remains.
“This does not mean you will be doing nothing,” he continued at the protests in her eyes. “Not remotely. Your father’s work is unfinished. We can train you in magic, teach you what we know, but only you can learn how to reinstate the spell to bind Taliesin.”
Darius paused. “Please do not see this as less important, your majesty,” he insisted. “I cannot understate what it will mean to end this war. We can negotiate with Taliesin as we have no chance of doing now. We can deliver war-criminals to justice, if the stories you bring from the cripples are true. And once there is peace, your Blood wizards will have infinitely more difficulty trying to hide. With the first one we capture, you will be able to extend the binding spell through them to all on their side, rendering them incapable of harming anyone ever again.
“That is the extent of your power, your highness, should the spell be reclaimed. And that is why you must remain safely here. So… do we have an agreement?”
With everything in her, she wanted to say no. A breath away from emerging, the word hovered on her lips. But her gaze tracked around the table, watching the unwilling expressions strengthen, and she could already hear the arguments that would follow if she disagreed. Everything would shatter. Carter’s plan and everything he’d asked her to do would just fall to pieces, because the only thing stopping them from dismissing every word she’d just said was the fact Darius was on her side.
But to stay here… to hide as others fought the ones who’d killed her family…
She swallowed, protests pushing so hard against her chest it hurt to breathe. But she’d come this far. She couldn’t back down now. Not when, with this one sacrifice, everything Carter wanted would be realized.
It killed her. But she couldn’t let that destroy Carter’s dream.
“Yes.”
Darius nodded gratefully. “Then we will gather wizards to assist us and, with your blessing, we will send them out to find the cripples. Given how they have hidden from us and the distrust they have for our kind, it may take time. But,” he added, “it is a
lso a royal order. And we have the good faith you built with their so-called Hunters to aid us. No matter what it takes, we will see it done.”
Air escaped her. “Thank you.”
He bowed his head in return.
She glanced around the table. Cornelius didn’t look up, and Sebastian seemed ready to explode. But the others were expressionless and no one said a word.
“Well, if there is nothing else,” Darius continued after a moment. “Then I suggest we adjourn.”
At his words, the others rose, disappearing from the room in near silence. Sebastian was the first out the door. Ashe watched him go, and when Cornelius circled the table to her side, it took a moment for her to turn around.
“If you would come with me, your majesty,” he said with rigid decorum.
She stood, her gaze slipping over the room again and catching on Darius.
Incrementally, he nodded, giving her a tiny smile.
Drawing a breath, she echoed the motion and then turned, following Cornelius from the conference room. On the factory floor, she could see Sebastian snapping at a few wizards as he marched past, and swiftly, they hurried after him. She grimaced darkly and kept walking.
Winding deeper into the building, Cornelius led her through corridors she’d had yet to see, and along walkways that stretched past areas easily as large as the one they’d left behind. Doors opened along the walls below her, admitting wizards toting boxes of produce and bread through abyssal portals that made her cringe. Rows of crates were arrayed in front of the doors, the stenciled names of various foods on their sides, while tangled piles of metal and plastic lay in a jumble at the far end of the room. Her brow furrowed at the mess, till she realized the scrap heap contained the remnants of whatever machinery had once filled the factory.
Ignoring the organized chaos, Cornelius continued onward, never looking back to see if she was still with him.
“Where are we going?” she called, speeding up to keep pace with his long legs.
“Library.”
Her brow drew down at his sharp tone. Reaching the far side of the walkway, he yanked open a door and then headed inside without pause. Grimacing, she broke into a jog, trying to catch the door before it slammed shut and she lost sight of him completely.
A panicked cry brought her up short.
With a bleeding wizard supported on his shoulder, a man rushed from a portal below her. Dropping their boxes of produce to the ground, the other wizards ran to help as more people came through the opening, some under their own power and others leaning heavily on their companions. From deeper in the building, she could hear shouts, along with the drum of footsteps running in her direction.
“Ashe.”
She flinched. Cornelius had reappeared behind her.
“Go back to your room,” he said, his gaze locked on the wizards coming through the portal.
“What–”
“Do it now.”
“Cornelius–”
He glanced over to her and she blanched at the look in his eyes. At a loss for what to do, she backed away and then started for the hall, still watching the factory floor. Behind her, Cornelius strode down the metal stairs and then grabbed the nearest wizard for information.
Guards rushed from the hallway and, startled, she stumbled back against the wall to stay out of their path. On the factory floor, more people were being carried in. Suspended between two wizards, a woman without an arm screamed, the bandages on her shoulder soaked and dripping red. Howling for his mother, a toddler flailed in the grip of a man whose head was wrapped in his own t-shirt and whose back bore viciously seeping burns.
And others didn’t move at all.
Trembling, her hands braced themselves against the wall.
“Your highness?”
Catching himself as he ran from the hall, Elias looked at her in alarm. Barely giving either of them a passing glance, Katherine kept going, a dozen wizards carrying bundles of medical supplies coming after her. “What’re you doing here?” he asked.
“C-Cornelius was…” she started, her gaze still on the wounded and the dying. She faltered, forgetting her response. “What happened?”
Elias grimaced, glancing to the factory floor. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“What happened?”
“We’re not sure yet. Ambush at another safe house, probably.”
Her brow drew down tremulously as a tiny body wrapped in a purple fleece blanket came through the portal in the arms of a larger wizard.
The look on the man’s face told her all she needed to know.
“Please go back to your room, your highness,” Elias said, gentleness struggling to cover the urgency in his tone. His gaze darted between her and the factory floor, and he reached over to guide her back toward the hallway. “There isn’t any need for you to see this.”
She shrugged off his hand, watching as the man set the little body down on a crate. A bloodied hand slipped from beneath the fleece. A pink bracelet dangled from the wrist and the glitter inside caught on the bright factory lights. Heavily, the man sank to the floor, and as he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders began to shake.
Ashe headed for the stairs.
“Your majesty!” Elias called, rushing to catch up with her. “Please, this isn’t–”
She ignored him, making a beeline for the man. Pulling his tearstained face from his hands, he looked up as she stopped by the body of the child.
Her fingers shaking, she pulled back the blanket. Confusion clouded the man’s face as he looked from her to Elias.
“Who…?” the man asked, his voice thick with pain.
“Her Royal Highness,” Elias explained quietly. “Queen Ashe.”
The man stared at her. She barely noticed.
With her dark lashes resting on her pale skin, the girl could have been sleeping, but for the blood staining her little green t-shirt above the blanket’s hem. Feathery strands of auburn hair lay across her face, above freckled cheeks still touched with pink.
Gently, Ashe brushed the hair from the child’s face and then looked down at the man.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Grief tugged at his expression. Wordlessly, he managed to nod.
Ashe turned. More people rushed down the steps to help, while others carried the injured farther away. Children wailed for their parents, the sobs mingling with the moans and cries of the wounded. Healers shouted for bandages as their magic flared, treating what could be quickly fixed and staunching the blood of what could not. The less injured leaned against crates at the edge of the chaos, their eyes glazed with residual horror. At the center of it all, Katherine stood, calling orders to her army of healers and pouring her magic into the worst of the injured brought her way.
Across the room, Ashe spotted Cornelius heading for a portal, a handful of guards at his back. She started toward them, only to come to a sharp stop as they disappeared through the opening and the shadows vanished in their wake, leaving only an empty doorway.
“You should go, your highness,” Elias insisted, stepping aside as two healers rushed past.
Ashe ignored him and took off toward Katherine. “What can I do to help?” she called, raising her voice over the din.
Katherine cut off in mid-command, irritation flashing across her face before she realized who had spoken.
“Your majesty, you shouldn’t–”
“What can I do to help!” Ashe yelled furiously.
The woman paused. “Ermengarde!” she shouted at a rotund woman bustling past with an enormous bundle of bandages in her arms. “Take her highness with you.”
Ermengarde’s eyes went wide as she looked from Katherine to Ashe. Swallowing, she nodded and then motioned with a nervous tilt of her head for Ashe to come with her.
“You don’t have to–” the round woman protested as Ashe reached her and immediately moved to take the bandages from her arms.
At the look in Ashe’s eyes, she fell silent and relinquished
the wrappings.
“Now what?”
Blinking rapidly, Ermengarde faltered at the question. Jerkily, she nodded toward a healer nearby and then obeyed her own direction and hurried his way.
Gripping the bandages, Ashe followed.
The healer barely glanced up from his wounded charge as they came closer. “One of you hold her and the other clean this up,” he ordered. “I can hardly see what I’m doing here.”
With an anxious glance to Ashe, Ermengarde dropped to her knees, ignoring the wet ground as she moved to hold the woman’s wound closed. Ashe set the bandages on a nearby crate and then grabbed two bundles before crouching down.
“Go on,” the healer snapped.
Biting her lip, she obeyed. Blood soaked the woman’s torso and dripped from the tatters of her shirt. In her abdomen, a ragged wound with blackened edges gaped and dark lines traced the veins radiating from the hole, as though the tiny capillaries had been burnt to charcoal. Magic raced around the perimeter of the wound, knitting the skin beneath the healer’s intent stare.
Swallowing hard, Ashe reached down and tried to wipe the blood from the edges of the wound.
“Hurry up, dammit,” the healer muttered at Ashe.
She worked faster. Skin knit beside her hands as she sopped the blood away and the woman gasped for air. His face tightening, the healer cursed and poured more magic into the wound.
Skin merged over the woman’s abdomen. The magic spread wider, covering her chest, her head, her arms and legs.
And then her breathing eased.
The healer sighed as the woman slipped into sleep. Without a word, he rose and headed for the next wounded person he could see.
Ermengarde took a breath and then gestured to two wizards watching from nearby. As they came to lift the woman between them, she gathered the clean bandages into her arms and then glanced over, catching sight of Ashe still crouched on the ground.
Taliesin Ascendant (The Children and the Blood) Page 7