As Titania came to her feet, another vine slid from the other side of the path and twirled around Lea's free leg. The other woman fought and kicked at the vines, trying to free herself, but she was unsuccessful. The vines wrapped up her legs and around her torso, pulling her to the ground. She tore at them and screamed as they squeezed her body.
Titania rose to her full height and walked toward her fallen opponent. “Leanansidhe, you were given a chance once. I let you run. I let you have your freedom and you betrayed me for it. I will not make the same mistake twice. You will pay for the crimes you have committed against the land and its people, against my family. You will regret your wickedness.”
Leanansidhe lay on her side, tangled in vines. Her forehead was pressed against the dirt and her shoulders shook with sobs.
“Show some remorse, Lealea. Ask for forgiveness and I shall grant it. For all those years we spent as children, I will make your end quick and painless.” Titania leaned over and placed her hand on her former friend's head.
The sobs continued for a second longer, until Titania realized they were not sobs, but stifled laughter.
“Oh, Tati,” Leanansidhe said as she spun and threw her hand out. The full force of her palm connected with Titania's breastbone at the same time Lea threw the whole weight of her magic behind it.
The air was knocked from the queen's lungs and she couldn't even scream as she soared into a thick tree trunk. Her back cracked against the wood and she sank to the ground in a heap.
Leanansidhe freed herself from the vines and stalked over to the fallen queen. “You always were so gullible.” She picked up a heavy branch and stood over her broken opponent.
“Lealea,” Titania whispered with what little breath she could manage.
“Don't 'Lealea' me, witch.” Leanansidhe swung the branch like a club and knocked the queen into oblivion.
*~*~*~*
Kane lay in the darkness of his bedroom, listening to the screams and sounds of battle outside his door. For the first fifteen minutes after they started, he had tried to free himself, to join the battle. Now he just lay there in the darkness, waiting for Leanansidhe to come kill him. He knew that's what was happening. She had attacked. No one else had the strength or insane desire to attempt a full-scale attack on Castle Eiri Greine.
The door opened and a figure was silhouetted very briefly in the light from the hall before the room was plunged into darkness once more.
“You've come to kill me?” he asked, already knowing the answer. He waited for the snide response.
“No.” The voice was unexpectedly male. “I've come to save you.”
A small light blossomed beside the bed, revealing the helmeted features of the captain of the guard, Fjorn. Blood dripped from a cut on his forehead and he looked pale in the dim light.
“Leanansidhe has taken the castle,” he whispered as he waved his hands over the chains binding Kane to the bed. “And your mother.”
Kane sat up as the chains fell away. “We have to save her. We can't let Leanansidhe take the castle.”
“It's too late,” Fjorn said as he removed the band from Kane's wrist. “It was a trap. All of it. You have to go to Castle Daor. You have to tell the king. He is our only hope.”
Fjorn slid a sword from his belt. “You will need this.” Kane took it with a nod.
“Follow me,” the guard said.
The two men slipped out into the hall. They followed the bloodied corridors toward the throne room. “There is a path near the Queen's room,” Fjorn said. “We must get there.”
When they reached the throne room, they slipped inside. Trees and flowers lined the walls, giving them ample cover.
“It's along the far wall. We must be quiet.”
Leanansidhe and many of her followers had taken up residence on the dais. Screams echoed across the cavernous room as Leanansidhe executed one of the guards.
“Please, stop.” The soft voice carried to them through the leaves and Kane froze.
“Mother...” He moved toward the sound with his sword drawn.
“No, Kane. Stop.” Fjorn grabbed his arm, but it was too late.
As Kane stepped into the bushes, the view of the horrors happening near the dais became overwhelmingly clear. The woman who had loved him from the time of his conception, despite all his mistakes and betrayals, sagged between two wooden posts in front of the throne. Her arms were pulled as wide as they could go and the tips of her bare toes barely brushed the ground. Her bright yellow dress was torn and stained and blood pooled beneath her from some wound he couldn't see.
Leanansidhe was draped across the throne his mother normally occupied, using a pile of dead bodies beside her to hold a goblet filled with red liquid.
As he watched, Lea reached over and picked up her glass. While she took a sip, she raised her free hand and sent sparks dancing across Titania's body. The queen's scream was faint and hoarse.
Kane surged forward, but Fjorn caught him and dragged him back. “We'll lose and she will be dead,” he hissed. “We need reinforcements.”
Kane struggled feebly against Fjorn's grip, but even he saw the futility in his plan. He sagged and nodded. Fjorn let him go and led him through the underbrush to the wall near the queen's chambers.
“Here,” he said. “This will lead you to Castle Daor.”
“Not if we have anything to say about it.”
A trio of guards formerly loyal to Queen Titania stood behind them with their swords drawn and pointed at the pair. The one in the middle grinned at Kane. “I have wanted to do this for a very long time, your highness.” He spat the last word at the former prince like it was a weapon.
Kane lifted his own sword and prepared himself for battle.
“No,” Fjorn whispered beside him. “Go. I will hold them off.”
Kane gave him a short shake of the head. “You will die.”
“Please, your highness. Just go.”
Kane stared at him a moment before fleeing into the tunnel. The sounds of battle followed him until the path closed in behind him.
*~*~*
ELEVEN
*~*~*
“This is so weird,” Lancelot said for the third time as he swung his sword through a non-existent faery. The redcap growled at him and lunged at his leg. He ignored the creature and kept walking. He and Arthur waded through the section of field they had been assigned, poking at each faery as the passed, looking for any real members of Leanansidhe's attacking army that might be hidden amid the fake faeries. “Did Zela and Percival find any sorcerers in the wood?”
“No. Their team searched for an hour, but they came up with nothing.” Arthur prodded a pixie laying face-down on the ground with the toe of his boot. A small squeak escaped its lips and it attempted to jump to its feet. He raised his sword, but an arrow pierced it between its shoulder blades and it toppled forward. He glanced toward the wall and Eden raised her bow in a salute. With a wave of the hand, he gave her a nod and poked a banewolf standing idly nearby. The sword slid through without resistance and the creature turned. It gave him a look and went back to standing idly. All around the pair, the faery mirages were losing their fight, choosing to stand and stare into oblivion over attacking creatures they could not touch.
“So, about Guin...” Lancelot began as he ran a hand through the head of a pixie. He glanced sideways at Arthur to judge the king's reaction.
“No,” Arthur said. “I cannot do this right now. I refuse to discuss her when I have a battle to tend to.”
Lance laughed and kicked a non-existent nymph. “I think the battle is over, don't you?”
Arthur gritted his teeth together and glared at his friend. “There are still matters to be seen to.”
“There always will be.” Lancelot stopped walking and placed the tip of his sword on the ground. “Arthur, we really must talk. There are some things you have to know. Some things about the past, about her.”
“Really, Lance, I'd rather not discuss it now. Especially
not here.” He turned and placed a hand on Lancelot's shoulder. “As my friend, please, just give me time.”
Lancelot nodded. “As you wish, my king.” He gave Arthur a half bow and walked away, putting several feet of distance and half a dozen fake faeries between them.
“They're starting to fade,” Tristan called to them from his spot further down the field. He waved his hand through a dark-haired faery to prove his point.
Arthur and Lancelot looked at the faeries immediately around them. Sure enough, several of them were starting to dim and become see-through. “I think we're about done here. Let's head back in.”
The two men met the generals and the other knights at the gates. The guardians had closed them and they began to jerk the giant wooden doors open again.
“What does this all mean?” Arthur asked as Etain and Deklen walked over to them.
Etain shook his auburn-haired head and let his gaze rove around the field. “I do not know. I have not seen magic of this magnitude in all my days as leader of the dragon scouts. This is unfathomable, and yet, here we stand. And we found no trace of a sorcerer anywhere. If they are dead, the magic should have faded immediately. But now, it appears the spell has run its course. They are beginning to disappear, and the culprit has disappeared as well.”
“Keep looking. I want to know everything about this. I want to know what exactly happened, and I want to know how to counter it.”
Etain nodded once and walked away as Arthur turned to Deklen. “Assign groups to finish clearing the fields. We need to head back into the council room and discuss this. We need to figure this out. We need to know her plan.”
“I agree fully. This is beyond even what Leanansidhe should be capable of. We cannot allow magic of this level to persist. It is too dangerous.”
“It is, and if it's allowed to grow, we won't be able to contain it.” He called to his knights and trotted off to dispatch teams.
The rest of the group gathered just outside the gates. Arthur glanced up and to the right where Aiofe stood with her bow. As he watched, she nocked an arrow and sank it into a kneeling sprite halfway across the field. It squealed and keeled over.
“She should learn to ride a dragon.”
Arthur hid the twitch in his shoulders by turning to Tristan. “Why do you say that?”
“Imagine her riding with Etain's flight, destroying enemies from the air as we take them on the ground. We would be unstoppable.”
Arthur looked back up at Aiofe and watched her a few seconds longer. “She would be a force to be reckoned with,” he said with half a smile on his face.
“She already is.”
Arthur fumbled for a response, but he was saved by Deklen's return. “The rest of the army has been assigned to squads, King Arthur. We are ready.”
“Thank you. Let's head inside.”
The stone giants stood to either side of the doorway and glared down at the group as they passed through the gates. Arthur waited until they were all through and followed. The gates ground behind him as they began to close.
“Wait!“
The cry was faint and far away and at first, Arthur wasn't sure he heard it at all.
“Stop, please!“
Arthur spun. The gates were nearly closed when a blond head came into view near the forest line. A man was running full speed through the fading horde of faeries.
“Kane?” Zela stood beside Arthur and squinted her eyes, but the gates slammed shut. She turned and raced up the stairs nearby. Arthur was right on her heels.
“What is he doing here?” Aiofe demanded as she nocked an arrow onto her bow and pointed it at her father.
“Aiofe, wait.” Arthur put his hand on her bow and pushed it down.
“He's supposed to be in prison. Why is he here?” she demanded as she struggled to free the bow from his grip.
“He should be in prison,” Zela said beside her. Her voice was quiet and edged with fear. “There is no way he could escape Fjorn's guard.” She turned to look at Arthur and dread sat heavy on her face. “Not without Fjorn's consent.”
“What does that mean?” Aiofe snapped at her aunt.
“Open the gates,” Arthur called to the stone guardians as they jumped up onto their spots on the wall.
The closest giant glared at him a moment before growling and jumping back down. The gates began to open once more.
“What are you doing? Stop! You can't trust him.” Aiofe jerked her bow from his hand and raised it again.
Zela reached over and yanked the arrow from the string. “Get over yourself, Aiofe. Kane should not be here. And yet he is. We need to know why.”
She bounded down the stairs three at a time, with Arthur and Aiofe dead on her heels. They waited at the gates just inside the wall until he arrived, surrounded by a group of knights of the North.
“Balan, Balin, put him under guard,” Arthur commanded as the winded faery approached. The two non-twins pulled their swords and ran out to greet the group. They returned with Kane between them. He sank to one knee, breathing heavily.
“Zela,” he breathed. A wracking cough overtook him when he tried to speak. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. “Mother,” he tried again.
“Mother?” Zela's already concerned face paled even further. She dropped to her knees in front of her older brother. “What happened, Kane? What happened to Mother?”
He gasped, struggling to pull air into lungs that had been strained for much too long. He tried speaking and only succeeded on the third try. He managed to speak one word before another fit took him. “Leanansidhe,” he said and doubled over again.
“Get him up,” Zela cried. “Get him into the castle.”
The knights looked to Arthur for instruction. “Do as she says. Hurry.” As Balin and Balan wrapped their arms under Kane's and helped him toward the castle, Arthur beckoned to Bors. “Find a servant. Have them bring water to the council chamber. Quickly now.”
Bors nodded and trotted off. Arthur made to follow when a small hand wrapped around his thick chain-mailed arm. He stopped and turned to look in the face of the young woman who had appeared in his life so suddenly.
“You can't trust him, Arthur. Just like you can't trust Guinevere.”
He stared down at her for a moment. Part of him wanted to do whatever she said, heed her every word. “We'll hear what he has to say.”
She began to protest, but he turned his back on her.
“Arthur!“ She tried to call him back, but he ignored her and walked into the castle.
He found the others inside the council room. Kane was in a chair near the door. Zela had a hand sitting tenderly on the back of his neck and was helping him drink from a cup. He coughed again, but his breathing had slowed to a more manageable pace and his flushed color was returning to normal.
Arthur walked over to them and pulled a chair up. He settled himself in front of Kane and crossed his arms as he leaned back in the chair.
“Why are you here?”
The former prince inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. When he opened the again, they were glistening with unshed tears. “Mother,” he said, speaking to Zela instead of Arthur. “Leanansidhe took her, Zee. She took Castle Eiri Greine. It was a trick. Her main army attacked the stronghold of the South while all our--your--forces were engaged here. She fooled everyone. Her magic is much stronger than any of us knew. She overpowered the remaining guards. Fjorn came into my room and freed me. I only just escaped.”
“Where is Fjorn?” Arthur leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees.
Kane's jaw worked as he gritted his teeth together. “He stayed at Castle Eiri Greine. Three of Mother's knights turned against her. They tried to stop us. I don't know if he's alive.” His voice trailed off and his face fell. No one had any question whether Fjorn survived or not.
“And Mother?” Zela knelt beside Kane. Her hands were on his forearm and she was gripping him so tight that his skin was turning a bright white. He didn't seem to
notice.
He stared straight ahead into the middle distance, watching the scene replay in his mind. This skin on his face matched the skin on his arm. “The last I saw her, she was tied in front of Leanansidhe. The witch held the throne. She was using bodies as furniture. Mother... she was crying for mercy. Not for herself, but for her people. She was begging Leanansidhe to spare those around her. Leanansidhe just laughed. She laughed. She thought it was funny. And then she... she shocked her. Mother was twitching.” Kane looked up at Zela. Tears streamed down his face, leaving streaks in the dirt that covered his cheeks. “There was nothing I could do, Zee. I wanted to. I wanted to die to help her. I would have fought Leanansidhe to my last breath, but Mother would have died, too. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't fail her again“
He collapsed and buried his face in his hands. “It's hopeless, Zee. We've lost our home, our parents, everything. And it's all my fault. It's all my fault.”
Zela wrapped her arm around Kane's shoulder and rested her head against his. “It is all your fault,” she said. Her tone held pity, not hatred. “But all is not lost. We're still here. We have Arthur and Aiofe, and the full power of the North, East, and West. The South is not gone. We will not give up. We will get Mother back.”
Kane buried his head in her neck and didn't care who watched him cry.
*~*~*
TWELVE
*~*~*
“And Sarah, well she was just so snide. Do you know that she once borrowed a broach of mine without even asking? It was an ugly broach some noble or other gave me and I never would have worn it in a million years, but still, she just took it like she had permission. She thought she would be able to put it back without me ever noticing, but I always noticed. Always.”
A single guard walked beside Guinevere. He closed his eyes and sighed. “And then what?” he asked dutifully in a voice that was so deadpan it could kill a mountain troll.
Queen of Hearts (The Risen King) Page 7