The Prophecy

by Erin Rhew

  She nodded encouragingly. He smiled, though she still read concern on his face.

  “You take my sword then.” He sounded less like the Wil she had begun to know and more like the commander of an army. “Defend yourself until I have their minds under control. I’ll try not to Alter yours, but I can’t promise you won’t be caught up in what I do. If you still have possession of your own mind once I’ve started the Alteration, run as far as you can from here.” She nodded. “You’re under my protection now. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Nothing will happen to me.”

  Wil glanced toward Layla once more. She gave him a confident nod. His eyes narrowed, centering on the approaching soldiers. An unexpected bolt of fear shot through Layla. She had never seen an Alteration before.

  The first rider threw himself off his horse as soon as he crossed the river, landing right on top of Layla. She grunted angrily as the breath flew out of her lungs.

  “Layla!” The splashing Vanguard horses muffled Wil’s cry. She fought while noting how many soldiers made landfall.

  “Focus on the Alteration. I’m fine!” She yelled back at him, hoping he heard her. Layla blocked her attackers attempt to grab hold of her throat.

  She struggled to get out from underneath the man’s weight. Layla’s injured arm hurt more than she cared to admit, but she refused to let it be the death of her. With all her might, she kicked out her legs. The man flew off of her. She jumped up, placing a sword through his stomach.

  A second soldier on horseback grabbed her by the hair. She bellowed in pain. Careful not to drop the sword, she reached up to dislodge her hair from his grasp. Layla ran along beside the horse so she didn’t dangle, but her feet barely touched the ground. Pain exploded from the tips of each individual strand of hair. Panicked, she wiggled violently and considered slicing off that portion of her hair with her sword. Only sheer vanity belayed her hand.

  Layla heard another horse approaching. Terror ran through her. She could easily be gutted in this position, but lifting the sword proved challenging. She attempted to turn her head to see who charged her way, but it refused to budge. Panic seized her.

  Suddenly, the soldier holding Layla released her. She fell to the ground, landing on top of her injured arm while her good arm flailed to the side to prevent the sword she held from stabbing her.

  “Layla!”

  “Nash?” She looked up to find him riding horseback, sword in hand. He’d just struck down her assailant, now lying in a bloody heap a few feet away.

  “Swing up.” Nash held out his hand.

  She gripped the sword using the hand of her hurt arm. Ignoring the pain, she grabbed onto Nash with her good one. Those strange yet familiar vibrations passed from her body to his. Once settled, Layla clutched his waist to let him know she was ready, and he spurred the horse forward. As they passed by, she saw Wil, with Vespa beside him. When had Vespa entered the fray? Wil’s ripped clothing and bloody face drew her attention, flooding her with fear.

  “Wil’s hurt.” Layla called into Nash’s ear. He didn’t respond.

  “Wilhelm?” Nash’s question hung between the brothers despite the battle raging around them.

  “Get Layla out of here! You know where to take her.” Wil shouted as Nash’s horse passed by. The future king’s eyes never left the Vanguard soldiers.

  “What about Wil and Vespa?” She squeezed Nash’s waist, willing him to answer.

  “They’ll be fine,” Nash added over his shoulder. “She can assist him with the Alteration; they’re stronger together. If you worry about anyone, worry about your Vanguard soldiers. They don’t know what horror is about to hit them with the combined minds of those two.”

  She shuddered. Fighting in hand to hand combat or with swords, she understood, but the mind games, she did not.

  As Nash’s horse leapt over the bushes, Layla heard ear-piercing screams. Her blood chilled with the terrified wails...the sounds of sheer horror. She pressed her face against Nash’s back to shut out the distressing melody.

  * * * *

  Layla gripped Nash’s waist even tighter as they galloped alongside the castle wall. Images of Wil, bloodied and torn, refused to leave her mind. The very idea of Vespa, so young and sweet, battling seasoned warriors turned her stomach.

  “We have to go back.”

  “We can’t,” Nash said. “You don’t know how to put up a mind guard, and you might accidently get caught up in the Alteration. Wil told me to get you to safety. He’d Alter my mind if I brought you back.”

  Layla recoiled at the thought of being trapped in the Alteration she’d just heard. Those men’s screams continued to reverberate around in her mind. Wil had waited, fought off a superior power at his own risk, to avoid unintentionally involving her in the Alteration.

  She choked back unexpected tears.

  “They could die.”

  “They won’t.” Nash’s body had remained alert and rigid the whole ride. Though he appeared confident, she knew he worried about Wil and Vespa too.

  Anger, a much more suitable Vanguard emotion, forced its way to the surface, knocking the worry and tears back. “I’m a strong fighter. You didn’t have to haul me away, Nash.”

  “I have no doubt you could have single-handedly fought off that Vanguard attack.” She couldn’t see his face to determine whether or not he meant those words. Was he teasing her or being serious? Layla gritted her teeth.

  “I would have gotten free of the horseman without your help. I was just about to cut off my hair.”

  “Now that would have been a shame.” She heard his grin. He took a deep breath and said, “Layla, I have no doubt you could have freed yourself.” His hand covered hers, his thumb tracing the edges of hers. She knew he spoke the truth, and his sincerity touched her. “Look, whether we want to be or not, we’re all caught up in this mess together. We have to work together, so you have to let me…” He hesitated. “Let us fight with you, for you.”

  Layla slumped back in shock, her grip loosening a bit around his waist, though their hands remained together. “Thank you, Nash.”

  Buzzing trailed up her arm. Dismissing this electricity between them grew harder and harder. After a moment, he dropped her hand. Her fingers still pulsed with phantom aftershocks.

  Atop the wall, a group of soldiers shouted down at them. Layla’s back stiffened. Did those soldiers mean to fight their own prince? A small whine split the air as they started the defensive horns. When Nash looked up, the soldiers reared back.

  “Prince Nash?” One man leaned over the side, his face white. He whirled around to face his comrades. “Stop the horns!”

  Nash waved his arms to again garner their attention. “Get to the West Wall. A group of Vanguards are attacking the prince and princess. One of you stay behind to open Holden’s gate.”

  “Right away, Prince.” The soldiers shuffled into action, bumping into one another in their haste.

  Nash yanked on the reigns and the horse skidded to a stop. A small gate opened. Spurring the horse forward, Nash propelled them on. Layla looked around. Though Vespa had taken her on a tour earlier, she didn’t recognize this particular part of the castle.

  “So, where are we going?”

  “The palace has a series of underground tunnels. Wil, Vespa, and I discovered them when we were children. Several of the tunnels had been abandoned for decades, so we claimed them for ourselves. I’m taking you there. No one but Wil, Vespa, or Volton Mars will be able to find us.”

  “Do you trust the Volton?”

  Nash didn’t hesitate. “With my life.”

  A tingling started at her bellybutton, traveled up her chest, and spread to the top of her head, stinging her ears. They would be alone together in abandoned tunnels, hidden. The notion both terrified and elated her. A moment later, guilt, her constant companion, resurfaced and knocked the other two emotions away. Wil and Vespa fought out there, for her. Wil—her future husband if the Elder got his way.

&nb
sp; “We’re here.” Nash pulled the horse to stop. “Slide down quickly.”

  Once she rolled off into Nash’s waiting arms, he slapped the back of his steed. The horse sped away. Nash grabbed Layla’s uninjured arm and led her along. When they reached the castle wall, she saw no entrance. Nash groped along the stones. They appeared solid, yet when he touched the eighth one, the wall opened. Layla gasped in surprise.

  Nash motioned toward the opening. “Get in.”

  She stepped inside while he pulled the heavy stone door closed, plunging them in darkness. He fumbled for her hand. When their fingers met, she saw an actual spark.

  “Follow me.”

  He led her through a series of dizzying twists and turns. Layla clutched his hand tightly, afraid to be left behind. She would certainly never find her way out of this place alone. A few mind boggling turns later, Nash stopped so abruptly that she bumped into him. When she pitched forward, Nash caught her. He sucked in a sharp breath as his lips brushed against her forehead. Her cheeks grew warm, and she suddenly appreciated the darkness. Nash cleared his throat and stepped back. His absence affected her just as profoundly as his presence.

  “We’re here. Stay put. I’ll find some light.”

  The door creaked. He let out a curse as he stumbled over something on the floor. Layla suppressed a nervous laugh. She heard him strike a match and then brilliant light flooded out from the room. Squinting, she struggled to adjust to the sudden influx of light.

  “Come in.”

  Layla shivered with an anticipation she couldn’t pinpoint as she stepped through the doorway. She found an unexpectedly cozy little room hidden away in the underbelly of the castle. As she scanned the room, she noted a small table with four chairs, a large stash of food sitting on top of a drawer, and…a bed. Layla averted her gaze. A familiar burning started at her neck and rose all the way to the top of her head until warmth consumed her entire face.

  She moved toward the table and sat in one of the chairs. Nash did the same. For a while, they avoided eye contact in awkward silence. Layla fought the urge to close the space between them, to complete the kiss they’d started in the forest. She didn’t understand her unusual, almost unnatural, connection to Nash. As much as she wanted to surrender, she resisted.

  Layla tried not to think about Wil and Vespa fighting down by the river, but the image invaded her mind anyway. She ground her teeth. Turning to Nash, Layla came up with something to take her mind off the fighting…and off his inviting lips.

  “Why did you abdicate the throne?”

  Nash shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t.”

  “But Wil said—”

  “That’s the official story. I’m not even sure Wil knows the truth, but I didn’t give up the throne. My father took it from me. He said I had a choice: I could surrender the throne to Wil or be banished forever.”

  She gasped. “But why?”

  “My father hates me. He always has.” Pain flooded his eyes.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know for sure. I mean, I know he’s disappointed that I’m not blond like most Ethereals. He hates that I can’t perform an Alteration like Wil and Vespa, and he resents my unexplainable strength. My whole life, my father has been suspicious and uneasy around me. It’s almost like he thinks my mother pulled me out of the River Lars and passed me off as their child.” He laughed bitterly. “Who knows…maybe she did.”

  Without thinking, she reached across the table and placed her hand over his. Energy flowed between them, creating an audible hum in the air. Nash drew in a quick breath. Seeing the effect she’d had, Layla pulled back, but he closed his hand around hers. She stared at their clasped hands.

  Her heart broke for him. “I’m sorry about your father. If he can’t see how special you are, then he’s a fool.” Nash may have been a renegade, but she’d also seen how fierce, caring, and loyal he could be, no matter how hard he attempted to hide it. If she had noticed those traits in their short time together, how had his own father, who’d had a lifetime with Nash, missed it?

  He lifted his eyes to hers, a smile playing on his lips. “Thank you.” He dropped his gaze to the table as the smile slid off his face. “I fear my father has reason to doubt me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think I may have led those soldiers to the West Wall today. I put all of you in danger with my reckless behavior.” His voice broke on the words. “I had to get away from the palace. They must have spotted me then followed me back. I’m usually so careful. I’m not sure how I missed them—”

  “Stop.” He lifted his head at her sharp command. When their eyes connected, she let her gaze drop to the table, embarrassed by the strong emotion permeating from within her. “There must be another reason. Don’t blame yourself, Nash.” She spoke to him, though her words hit the table.

  “Why do you see the good in me when I’ve given you no reason to do so?”

  Layla looked up to find him examining her. His imploring green gaze bore into her, almost like he could see straight into her core if she let him. When he stood, the breath rushed out of her lungs. Nash came around the table and lifted her gently out of her seat. She didn’t fight him. Layla looked down, conflicted, but he lifted her chin. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his lips to hers.

  Instantly, her body reacted. She melded into him, pulling him closer. When he moaned, her whole body blazed to life in a way it never had. She couldn’t seem to get close enough to him. He must have felt the same way because he wrapped his arms around her and pressed their bodies together, as close as they could get. All thoughts left her mind, leaving only Nash, all consuming.

  Abruptly, he stepped back, creating distance between them, until he stood a full arm’s length away. He focused on the ground for a heartbeat. When he finally looked up, his green eyes burned with regret.

  “I’m sorry, Layla.” His words sounded strangled.

  She stared at him, too dazed to respond. He clawed his fingers through his hair in agitation.

  “I never should have kissed you. When I tried earlier, in the woods, I didn’t know who you were, but now I do. It’s inexcusable. I won’t do it again.”

  Nash’s face swirled with a mixture of desire, self-loathing, and frustration. Layla wanted to reach out to him, but she didn’t, afraid of what might happen between them if she did. Though their attraction made no sense, she couldn’t deny its power. She stepped back to create even more space between them. Behind her, the door flew open. Vespa fell through the entrance, an injured Wil weighing her down.

  Chapter Eleven

  Layla

  After ushering Nash and Vespa out at Wil’s behest, Layla closed the door. The hustle and bustle of moving Wil from the tunnels to his bedroom had left her little time to dwell on what happened with Nash, but now, those stolen moments flooded back with vividness. Layla turned to face her betrothed, pressing the palms of her hands against her warm cheeks. Was her indiscretion written upon her face? The truth burned like a brand within her.

  The whole way to Wil’s room, Nash wouldn’t even meet her eyes. Did he feel as bad as she did? While they sat protected in the tunnels, giving into their passions, Wil fought to protect them, performing an Alteration despite the huge stab wound in his side. Shame reared up inside her. She had to quit thinking about Nash. He’d been right in the tunnels; they had to stop regardless of their feelings.

  “How are you?” She pushed Nash from her mind with great difficulty, focusing instead on her duty, on Wil.

  “I wish everyone would stop coddling me.” Her eyes widened. Wil grinned sheepishly. “I’m fine. Really, Layla, it’s just a scratch.”

  “A scratch.” She gestured to the open wound under his right rib. “You have a huge gash in your side. I can’t believe we left you and Vespa there to fight alone.”

  “I told Nash to take you away.”

  “I know you worried I would succumb to the Alteration, but you never should have left yourself that vulnerable
. I could have helped you.”

  Wil searched her face, though she couldn’t be sure just what he sought. “I know you could have, Layla. You should know that I think you are a very competent and capable warrior, but I sent you away for two reasons. The first reason, of course, had to do with the Alterations. What I made those men see…” Wil faltered, taking a deep shuddering breath. “I would never wish that on anyone—least of all you. But the second reason…” A pink flush tinted his cheeks. “The second reason has to do with my own weakness, Layla. Watching you out there compromised me. I couldn’t focus for fear that someone would hurt you, and when I saw that soldier grab you by the hair and drag you toward the river, my heart stopped. I tried to reach you, but I couldn’t.”

  “Wil, I…” Layla backed up a few steps, shaking her head.

  “Please let me finish, or I might never have the courage to get it all out.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve felt like such a failure, watching you dangle there by your hair while I remained helpless to stop it. You’re supposed to be under my protection.” He paused, staring directly into her eyes. “More than that though, I’ve come to care about you and don’t want to see you hurt.”

  She smiled at him. Their new bond of friendship, forged last night in the library, coursed within her. While she and Wil did not have the same charged connection Layla experienced with Nash, she cared about the prince and would never want to see him hurt.

  “You risked your life for me today. I won’t forget it.”

  Clearly embarrassed by her praise, Wil broke eye contact. “Would you mind sending Nash in to see me? I’d get him myself, but…” He gestured to the wound at his side.

  “Of course.” Layla stood. “Aren’t you going to get that checked?”

  “I’m sure Vespa ran off to find Volton Mars the moment she left. Mars has tended to far more dramatic injuries than this one. I’ll be fine.”

  They stared at one another for a moment longer. As she stood to leave, the door swung open, and King Jesper stormed in. His blue eyes flared with pure rage.