Dreamless

by Jenniffer Wardell

  “Oh, I would have done my best to make the toad bleed. But my first instinct would have been magic, so I would have wasted any chance at catching him by surprise. When you add a flash grenade to that, and everything else he’s got in that bag—”

  He went cold. “Hold him.” Staying close only long enough for Elena to finish casting her freezing spell, Cam went over to the discarded bag and started looking for himself. He didn’t recognize half the bottles rolling around inside, but there was one he knew immediately—they’d seized it off more than a few people trying to cross the border, generally before arresting them on outstanding warrants of some kind. It was a special, wildly illegal type of knockout tonic, preferred by professional kidnappers because it didn’t use a shred of magic.

  Cam tried to remind himself that he slept with his door open, and even if he’d been the one sleeping in his room he still would have heard Elena fighting. Together, they could take out anyone. She would have been fine. He wouldn’t have been too late.

  At least this time. Sneaking into the palace suggested a level of crazy that would only get more dangerous to Elena. He’d go straight to jail after this, but apparently he’d managed to slip through two dozen different guards to get here in the first place. For all he knew, Nigel would be able to get out of the jail cell just as easily.

  Cam’s hand tightened on the bottle.

  Carefully setting it back in the bag, he walked back over and knelt down next to Nigel’s head. “I have about fifteen more seconds, right?” he asked quietly.

  “Maybe a little more than that.”“It’ll be enough to get me started.” Putting his hand back over Nigel’s throat, he put all of his weight into pushing down.

  It took her a second to realize what he was doing. “Cam, no.” She moved towards him. “He’s not worth it.”

  “He waltzed right into the middle of the palace, thinking he could kidnap you and get away with it.” A rage was burning inside him, but it did nothing to push away the chill. “From what you told me about his home life, no one will even miss him.”

  “You’re right, they won’t.” Elena’s voice was soft but urgent as she knelt down next to him, her light still illuminating the scene. “But I don’t want to think about what this will do to you.”

  The rage didn’t care. It kept pushing. “I’ll say it was self-defense.” His parents would never know. Even if they did, they’d have to understand. He was protecting Elena.

  She put her arm acround his back, as if she was about to pull him close. “The only time I have ever heard you say you’ll lie was with Mrs. Feeney, and even then you couldn’t go through with it.” She wrapped her other hand around his wrist, and it was only then that he realized she was trembling a little. “Don’t have me be the reason you do something you’ll regret. Please.”

  Somehow, that was enough to make it through the cold. Cam relaxed his grip just as the freezing spell ended, leaving Nigel coughing violently. Now the idiot’s crazy eyes were being directed only at him, which Cam found infinitely preferable to the other alternative. “You would have killed me,” he rasped, sounding shocked.

  “Yes,” Cam said simply, sitting on him again to keep him pinned. “Now, tell me how you got in here before I decide to go back to that plan.”

  “I bought a great deal of food and pretended I was a delivery boy hired by one of the palace guards.” He sounded terrified, which was useful. “I gave some to everyone I passed, and they were too busy eating to ask me who I was delivering to.”

  Cam looked up at Elena. “Can I kill the guards?”

  “Yes,” she said, mirror in hand. She brushed her fingers against his hair as she left the room. “But don’t do it until I get back. I want to help.”

  “So will Dad. Before we take care of that, though—” He turned his attention back to Nigel. “How did you get up here? The castle is a maze—you should have been lost after the first turn.” If he had someone in the castle helping him out . . .

  Nigel swallowed. “I did get lost. But then someone directed me to the kitchens without my asking, and after I stole a page’s uniform I simply kept asking for directions until I found my way up here.”

  Cam felt a little more of the rage draining away at the sheer ridiculousness of the security loophole. “Fantastic.” The one small comfort in all this was that it was definitely enough to give his dad leverage to overhaul the castle’s entire security protocols. Not that an eight-year-old with a shovel couldn’t manage to improve things at least a little.

  Elena stepped back into the room. “The captain keeps swearing that they’ve heightened security like my mother ordered them to, but even if they did bring in new people they’re just as incompetent as the old ones. Since it’s clear the castle guard can’t be trusted with anything more complicated than standing in place, I called the city guard to come collect our prisoner. They should be here in a few minutes.”

  “We’ll give them the bag, too. They’ll need it as evidence.” He gestured towards Nigel. “Any questions you want to ask him?”

  She gave him a long look, then shook her head. “Not any that I’d get a satisfactory answer to.”

  Cam lifted his hand, making Nigel start struggling again. “You can’t kill me just because she didn’t have any more questions! I’ve answered everything you asked, and you don’t—”

  The pleading cut off when Cam gave him a solid crack against the jaw, knocking him unconscious. “There.” He moved off his temporary prisoner, sitting down hard on the floor next to him. “That’ll give everyone a break from having to hear his whining.”

  “I knew you were clever.” Voice gentle now, Elena walked over and sat down across from him. “I’m sorry, Cam.” She squeezed his hand. “I didn’t consider something like this happening when we switched rooms.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” He didn’t think as he pulled her into his lap, instinctively wrapping his arms around her in a hard, tight hug that held everything that was left of his adrenaline and fear. He’d half-expected her to go stiff—he knew her family wasn’t as physically affectionate as his was, but she settled against him like this was exactly where she wanted to be.“If I could, I’d have everyone who wanted to hurt you come after me instead. Then you could swoop in and talk all condescending to them.”

  She slid arms around him. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “What? You mean ‘condescending?’” Cam’s voice was light. The hug had chased away the rest of the rage, and the sheer relief was almost enough to make him cheerful. “I try not to use big words, but I’m pretty sure I got that one right.”

  “You know what I mean.” Elena pulled back enough to glare at him. “It doesn’t help me if you get hurt because someone was coming after me.”

  “That’s kind of my job, Princess,” he said softly, brushing her hair back from her face. “It’s just convenient that it’s also the best thing for my blood pressure.”

  She opened her mouth, ready to say something else, when they heard the sound of the door to the common area opening. The lights in the room turned on, making Elena’s spell unnecessary, and Cam and Elena hurriedly helped each other to their feet as one of the castle guards stepped into view. “Your Highness, there’s a group of city guardsmen at the gate, and they insist—” He choked on the rest of the sentence as he caught sight of the man on the floor. “What—”

  And there went any chance at Cam’s good mood. “That, you moron, is the man who waltzed right by all of you and tried to kidnap the princess,” he snarled, blood in his eyes. The guard, who was a full six inches taller than Cam, took a few healthy steps back. “If the queen doesn’t execute you as soon as she finds out, you should thank whatever gods you believe in.”

  “Oh, there are more creative options than execution,” Elena said darkly, stepping forward. “If my mother doesn’t want to take them, I’m sure Commander Merrick will. I’m requesting that he a
nd his wife take immediate command of your entire unit.”

  “Captain Merrick?” The man’s eyes widened even further at the mention of Cam’s mother. Apparently, the city guard trainees had been telling stories. “But—”

  Elena advanced on him. “So you’d prefer execution?” She was more than a foot shorter than the guardsman, but he scrambled away from her even faster than he had from Cam. “No? That’s what I thought. Now send up the city guardsmen immediately. I need to talk to someone with a functioning brain.”

  As he ran off, Cam was surprised to feel the corners of his mouth turning upward. Apparently, he could be cheerful if he didn’t have to talk to anybody but Elena for awhile. “See? You’re excellent at being condescending. Why waste that kind of talent?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “You’re an idiot.”

  His smile widened. “Like I said, pure talent.”

  Chapter 15

  Less than Sanguine

  Her aunt was scheduled to arrive that afternoon.

  Elena and her mother had talked about how the initial meeting should go, at least as far as the elements they could control in advance. Would be better to sit formally in the throne room and make an early, dramatic show of power? Or would it be better to choose an out-of-the-way meeting room in order to maintain some semblance of secrecy? Should Elena do the talking so her mother wouldn’t have to, or would that rob the queen of necessary power? They would take every magical precaution, but would it be wise to also have physical security present? There were advantages and disadvantages to every possibility, and the two women weighed and measured every option as carefully and thoroughly as possible.

  The planning didn’t stop either the fear or the hope that raged through them both, emotions that they each fought so valiantly to hide. But it also kept them from having enough time to think about either emotion, which was almost the same thing in the end.

  ~

  “You look terrifying,” Elena said approvingly, watching her mother make microscopic adjustments to her hair in the mirror. It was swept up in a much more complicated version of her usual severe knot, a set of sleek and sturdy metal hair sticks helping to hold everything in place. Alan had long ago sharpened the tips to razor points, capable of puncturing the skin to a depth of six inches.

  The queen’s eye makeup offered a far simpler intimidation, changing their color into the cold, intimidating gray of a sky in the bleakest winter. When combined with her mother’s iciest glare, the one that Elena had seen reduce even the bravest men to quivering wrecks, it could be as powerful as a weapon.

  Her mother smiled, eyes warming enough to ruin the effect of the makeup. “Flatterer.” She brushed her fingertips against her daughter’s cheek. They were alone in the queen’s rooms, sitting before her dressing mirror as if they were primping for a party.

  For a few precious seconds, Elena let herself cherish the odd intimacy. Their attempts to protect one another usually pushed them apart, but when they had a common enemy it only brought them closer together. “You taught me well.”

  The queen made an amused sound. “You look quite intimi­dating yourself, my love. You’d be a wonderful—” She seemed to catch herself, stopping what she’d been about to say. Her smile lost a little of its sincerity, and she pulled her hand away. “Never mind. I’m being fanciful.”

  Elena caught her mother’s hand, giving it a brief squeeze. “Can you imagine the two of us together at meetings?” she asked lightly, pretty sure she knew what her mother had been about to say. “Any poor fool who caught a glare from both of us would melt on the spot.”

  The queen’s expression warmed again. “We would be quite the duo, wouldn’t we?” Then she took a steadying breath, blinking hard against the sudden wetness in her eyes. “And if I keep this up, I’ll have to let Renae be the one to reapply my makeup. She was so disappointed I didn’t let her help with it the first time.”

  “It’s for the best. I don’t think she quite understands the concept of war paint.” Elena made herself turn away, checking her own hair and makeup in the mirror. The effect wasn’t nearly as striking as it was with her mother, but she flatly refused to be the weak point in the equation. “Are you sure you want me to be the first one to speak to Aunt Ariadne?”

  Her mother met her gaze in the mirror. “Would you prefer not to?” Elena could hear the protectiveness in her voice, quieter but no less solid than what she’d heard so often from Alan and Marie. She wondered how she could have missed it before.

  Shaking off the regret, Elena took a deep breath. “I’m fine with it. I stopped being terrified by the thought of her years ago.” She turned her head, meeting her mother’s eyes again as she let some of her uncertainty emerge in her voice. “But I’m afraid it won’t make as much of an impact coming from me. She’s never even seen me, and I’m certain she’ll be able to sense that you’re a more powerful sorceress than I am. She has no reason to fear me.”

  Her mother pressed her lips together, not able to say anything. “I can’t trust myself enough to be the first one to speak,” she said finally, voice quiet. “I’m not certain enough of what would come out.”

  Elena knew how much such an admission cost. They were both trying so hard. “Do you have any suggestions for what I should say? I’m tempted to actually try and write out a speech, but those are never good for more than a few seconds into the actual situation.” She smoothed a hand down the edge of her sleeve, straightening it. “No matter how much effort I put into the preparation, I’m sure it will sound worse than useless the moment it leaves my mouth.”

  “Trust your instincts.” The queen laid her hand over Elena’s. “You had wonderful ideas during our discussions.”

  Despite the tension thrumming through her, Elena felt the corners of her mouth curve upward. It seemed to happen more and more often, these days. “They were easier to come up with when I thought you would be the one who had to say them.”

  Her mother stood, smiling as well. “You’ve discovered the secret of government.” Holding her daughter’s face in her hands, she pressed a kiss against her forehead. “We should go. We’ll want to get into position before Cam’s siblings arrive.”

  Elena took a deep breath, then pushed herself to her feet. “Is Bishop there already, or will he meet us?”

  The queen’s eyes flickered away briefly. “He’s preparing the room for us.”

  Watching this, Elena hesitated. Her mother didn’t seem upset, but this felt like too serious an issue to simply accept the silence. “Does he know he needs to stay?”

  A faint flush colored the queen’s cheeks. Seeing it, Elena felt immensely better. “He knows.”

  “Cam will meet the team bringing in Ariadne and guide them here. He’ll send a page ahead to let us know that they’re coming.”

  Her mother squared her shoulders. “Ready?”

  Far from it. Still, she lifted her chin. “I’m ready.”

  ~

  Bishop had modified a meeting room into a more discreet version of the throne room, with the long table serving as a rough shield between the chairs and Ariadne. Bishop insisted on remaining standing, positioning himself at her mother’s right hand.

  A small eternity later, a page alerted them that the group was on their way. Elena had long ago locked down her emotions, making absolutely certain nothing would slip and lead to an unexpected crack in their armor. Now she focused on her personal shields, sealing and strengthening them against any unexpected attack.

  They were ready when Cam opened the door. He stepped into the room first, followed by the rest of the team. She recognized Laurel, bringing in Ariadne by her magic-deadening cuffs. “Your Majesty.” He nodded to the queen. “Your Highness.” He nodded to Elena, then stepped to one side and unsheathed his sword. “Ariadne Coppin.”

  “Thank you.” The queen motioned to Laurel. “You have fulfilled your contract well, b
ut we have enough here to deal with her. You may go.”

  Laurel hesitated, then looked over at her brother. When he tilted his head toward the door, she and the rest of her team left the room.

  Elena’s first startled thought was that this stranger looked so much like her mother. Ariadne’s hair was lighter, almost white, and the crow’s feet around her eyes were deeper. But the shape of her face was nearly identical to the one who had sung Elena to sleep at night, her eyes the same shifting gray. It was foolish, but Elena hadn’t been prepared for it.

  A similar surprise was reflected in the woman’s eyes, and for just a second her expression went raw. “You look just like—” Ariadne stopped herself with an almost physical effort, wrestling her features back into the composed blankness she’d worn when she first stepped into the room. That, too, struck Elena as painfully familiar.

  Rather than acknowledge what had just happened, Ariadne bowed low. “Your Highness. Your Majesty.” Her voice caught, briefly, on the second honorific. “I am your servant.”

  Elena glanced over at her mother. The queen’s jaw was like stone, her hands gripping the arms of her chair painfully tight. She looked like she wanted to close her eyes, but didn’t quite dare.

  Every protective instinct Elena possessed wanted to make certain all of her aunt’s attention was on her. “Ms. Coppin,” she announced, putting all the frost she possessed into the words. “Tell us why you’re here.”

  Ariadne’s eyes flickered upward briefly to take in Cam’s presence, then met Elena’s gaze with a look that seemed to ask if the younger woman was being entirely serious. When the only response was stony silence, the sorceress bowed her head again. “I am here to repair a grievous injustice I have committed, Your Highness.”

  It was exactly what they’d hoped she’d say. But they had no reason to trust the words. “Why now? Your injustice was committed nearly two decades ago. Did you perhaps get lost in the forest finding your way back to our door?”