No words existed to describe the horror of the taste. Copper, iron, wine, poison, and death twined together to form something inscrutably putrid. The potion swirled around my teeth and over my tongue as if it had come alive, and I tried to block it from going down my throat.
Daeg put a knee on my chest and forced me back against the chaise. “Swallow it, Evelyn. Quit fighting and swallow it!”
Before he could force me again, I drew a deep breath through my nose and spit the bloody concoction directly into Daeg’s face. He roared and backhanded me across my cheek, sending stars exploding before my eyes. I screamed at him, howling like a wild animal. The slap cleared some of the confusion swirling in my thoughts, and I slid off the chaise onto my knees, panting and spitting.
With the contents of the chalice still dripping down his face, staining his white collar, Daeg grasped my upper arm and slammed me back onto the seat. He brought out another knife from a pocket in his cloak and pressed it into my neck until it pricked my skin. “Dammit girl,” he hissed. “You will do as I say, or you will die, here, tonight.”
I opened my mouth to curse him, but another voice cut me off. “Stop, Daeg. No one has to die here tonight. But only if you let her go.”
Gideon?
A brief spark of joy flared in my chest but quickly died. If he had come to aid me now, his efforts were too little, too late. He should have tried saving me days ago. He should have never brought me here in the first place.
Daeg didn’t remove the blade from my throat, but he pulled away enough for me to see the young man standing behind him. “Gideon, what is this?”
Gideon aimed Sephonie with one hand, at the center of Diodorus’s back, and held a knife poised at Aodan’s throat in a mirror image of Daeg’s pose with me. Daeg’s blood-spattered face broke into a crazed smile.
The entire audience had frozen in place, obviously uncertain about how to react to the turn of events. Terrill started forward, but Gideon shoved his knife against Aodan’s throat and the boy squealed. Terrill stopped and flashed a nasty grin at Gideon.
“The castle is surrounded by my personal security,” Daeg said. “Some are Trevelyan’s old Crown of Men. In this room, there are many who would die fighting for me. You are outnumbered. How far do you think you would get?”
“I don’t need to get far.” Gideon dropped a meaningful look to the tip of the knife resting at Aodan’s throat. “Just a few centimeters.”
“You’ll never get the girl.” Daeg spat the words through gritted teeth.
“And you’ll never get the birthright.”
“Then we’ve found ourselves at an impasse.”
They hovered, Daeg over me, Gideon over Aodan, and I thought we would be fixed in that moment forever, but then a crash of lightning streaked across the sky and shattered the window beside us. The crowd shrieked and drew back.
Gideon didn’t waste the moment. He threw himself onto Daeg, knocking him free from me. The two men fell to the floor, pummeling each other with ferocious blows.
Daeg bellowed before Gideon’s fist connected with his mouth. “Finish it, Diodorus!”
The Magician approached me with the chalice again. Aodan assisted him, holding me down and forcing my mouth open. Enraged, I struggled against them. Fury empowered me and I shoved my knee into Aodan’s crotch. He howled and fell to the floor. Diodorus tried to strike me in the throat again, but I slid away.
I took a deep breath of the fresh air pouring in from the broken window and focused my intent on the storm brewing outside. There was another lightning bolt out there somewhere; I could feel it. If I could only wrap my will around it....
Aodan rolled miserably on the floor while Diodorus struggled to tug me back on the chaise, but I was still attached to Aodan, and the old Magician’s hands were full, trying not to spill the contents of the chalice. Where was Terrill, and the crowd? Why hadn’t they interfered? Before I could answer that question, another streak of electricity called to me.
I grasped it with my thoughts and hurtled it through the broken window into the middle of the room, right in the midst of the crowd. It exploded against the floor, and the lightning’s light seared across my vision and my ears rang from the cannonade of noise.
“Evie. Get out of here,” Gideon said as Daeg tackled him back to the floor.
I had thought the same thing, but the Magical golden rope still bound me to Aodan. Diodorus had dropped the chalice. Its bloody contents spilled across the floor in a vile puddle. The Magician stood in place, locked by indecision. He had also dropped his dagger. It lay just inches away from Aodan, who had rolled into a ball. He had closed his eyes and pressed his hands against his ears, and he never saw me leap.
I snatched the blade and sawed through the rope binding us together, leaving Aodan and me with a pair of matching golden bracelets. Most of the crowd, the ones who were able, had fled after my lightning blast, but some of the men, including Terrill, were inching back into the room, their eyes glued on Daeg and Gideon, eager to leap to their Lord’s assistance when he called for it.
Gideon clenched his hands around Daeg’s throat, but the older man pummeled Gideon anywhere he could land a blow. “Evie, run!” Gideon said.
I took a step forward, ready to follow my earlier path through the kitchen and out to the stables, but paused. Resolution filled me and urged me to hold my place. “No more running,” I said, quietly to myself. I turned on my heel and strode to the center of the room. Daeg’s men watched me warily, holding their weapons ready. “No. More. Running!”
Thunder rattled the windows and several broke. The floor shook. It reminded me of the morning I woke to Fallstaff’s destruction. Good. Let Daeg have a little of his own medicine.
Another lightning bolt jolted into my consciousness. Despite his eagerness to rid me of my birthright, Daeg’s belief in me, and the belief of his people, empowered me. He had prepared for so many contingencies, but his own faith was something he couldn’t evade.
I grabbed the bolt and slung it into the room, at the feet of Daeg’s men. They fell like stalks of corn in a hailstorm. The acrid stink of singed hair and burnt skin stung my nose. I refused to let myself care whether any of them had survived. If there would be guilt for my actions, I would suffer it at a time when my survival was not so much at risk.
I turned my attention to the Magician. He looked at me, squeaked like a mouse, and dashed from the room. I thought of Ruelle Thibodaux’s Magic and laughed. Diodorus wouldn’t stand a chance against Le Poing Fermé. His exit left me with only Daeg, Aodan, and Gideon to manage.
I considered hurtling another lightning spear directly into their quarrel, but I recognized Gideon’s sacrifice. Maybe he deserved a chance to get away. Still holding Diodorus’s black knife, I brought it to Daeg’s throat, and he paused in mid strike to Gideon.
“Let him go.” I pressed the knife tip against his skin until it pricked him, the same as he had done to me. “Gideon, move out of the way.”
He rolled away from Daeg and crouched on the balls of his feet.
“Thank you for your hospitality, m’lord, but I’m afraid I’ve overstayed my welcome. Give your wife my condolences, and tell her I said she has a lovely home.” I stepped away as another crack of thunder shook the house. Daeg winced but stayed where he was. “Gideon, get Sephonie and train it on him. If he moves, shoot him.”
He grinned and nodded, leaping forward to recover his weapon. Daeg’s eyes bored into mine. He bared his teeth and growled. “This is not over, Stormbourne.”
“Oh, yes, it is. In a few more hours it will be too late, and I don’t plan to stay around long enough to give you another try.”
Gideon crossed the room while I spoke, keeping Sephonie aimed at his odious uncle as he moved. Several of the Lord’s men, who had survived my lightning blast, moaned and cursed as they righted themselves. Gideon glanced at me before setting his sights back on Aodan. “Get to the stables, Evie. I’ll meet you there.”
I didn’t argue
since his instructions matched my own intentions, but he was wrong if he thought I planned to wait for him, or include him in my escape. With one last look at the defeated Daeg and his whimpering son, I turned and ran, still clutching the dark knife in case I encountered any more of Daeg’s guards.
Chapter 38
In Daeg’s stables, I found the gray mare that had helped me make my earlier escape. Her reins held ready for me in the hands of Gideon’s silent sister.
“What are you doing here, Marlis?”
She offered me the leads, and I took them after quickly inspecting the stirrups and girth strap. She disappeared to the back of the barn while I fiddled with the stirrups but returned a moment later with a brown mare and Gideon’s horse, Wallah, both fully prepared for riding.
“Oh no,” I said, understanding her intentions. “Gideon’s on his own, and so am I.”
Marlis narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. She pulled herself into her horse’s saddle and crossed her hands over the pommel in silent argument.
I hauled myself up into my own saddle. “You think you’re coming, too, do you?”
“I can’t leave her here,” Gideon said behind me. He stepped into the barn and loomed as a dark obstacle in the doorway. “We have to move out. Daeg’s men are regrouping. They’ll be after us shortly.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I gave my horse a swift kick in her side. She leaped forward and charged the doorway. Gideon stared me down as I approached. I reined her aside and squeezed past him. Then I nudged my mount again and clicked my tongue. “Come on girl. Let’s fly.”
The mare rolled into a graceful canter. This time, I fled toward the main gate and the road leading to Steinerland, with no one standing in my way. I didn’t know where I was going, but it felt so good to leave.
The wind tugged at my hair and swept past my cheeks in a current that ignited a wave of memories. Flashes of my father’s broken body melded into images of my broken home the day Daeg’s men came to demolish it. Memories of Gideon competing in Father’s archery contest transitioned into images of him shooting at Terrill and his men on the road to Thropshire. The beastly scent of the horse under me reminded me so much of Nonnie. I glimpsed a vision of an innocent girl who looked like me, wandering her father’s estate with no other care than to worry about whether Gerda would fuss over her dirty clothes.
“Evie!” Gideon called behind me, his voice bringing up another slew of memories—ones I wanted to forget—but my mind insisted on berating me with nostalgia. The soft light on his broken body at The Silver Goose.... The way he held me while I mourned for Nonnie on the outskirts of Braddock.... The look on his face when I woke next to him on board the Tippany’s airship.... The taste of him when he kissed me in the Omeg foothills.
I growled, shook my head, and leaned forward into the biting wind. I refused to give any additional consideration to the one who had betrayed me in so many ways. I kicked my horse again—how I wished I knew her name—and she pushed into a gallop. It was a mistake. We wouldn’t last long this way, and Wallah would overtake us. Gideon would never choose a horse that didn’t possess a great deal of endurance and speed. I had told him on our way through Steinerland that I was smaller and could hide. If I couldn’t outrun him, then I would have to take cover.
I guided my horse off the road. The uneven terrain forced her to slow down, but the forest lay only a few yards away. Wallah’s hoof beats pounded behind me, or maybe I mistook them for the pounding of my pulse. It didn’t matter how much Gideon had gained on me. We had reached the shadows of the forest, and I dropped my reins, slipped from the saddle, and ran.
In the darkness, I couldn’t see my own feet, much less the rocky, root sewn ground, and my ridiculous slippers inhibited my progress. I slowed to a careful jog, listening for sounds of pursuit. Gideon had given up Wallah and called for me in the shadows. A branch snapped, and the sound echoed around the forest. I stopped to catch my breath. Gideon called my name again from only a few feet away, and I ducked behind a nearby tree, crouching near its base, at the thickest part of its trunk.
“Evie, I know you can hear me.” Desperation was clear in his tone. “I told you I wouldn’t let you go—that I would hunt you.”
“You also said you would keep me safe, but you didn’t.” I cursed myself for giving away my position. I dashed for another nearby tree and spun around behind it. No doubt Gideon heard my footsteps, the same as I heard his.
“That’s what I’m trying to do, now.” The vastness of the woods made his words sound hollow... empty.
“Ha!” I shouted and ran again. “You gave me to Daeg. You know what he wanted to do to me.”
“I was wrong, Evie. Stop running and give me a chance to explain.”
“I’ve given you everything you’re ever going to get from me.”
“But I saved you tonight. Does that mean nothing?”
“I was saving myself.”
“You’re right. You were. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore. Daeg’s men are on their way. Let me help you.”
“I don’t trust you.” I found another tree and ducked behind it. I had to rest, had to catch my breath. I was so tired of running.
“Why would I have helped you back there if I was going to turn around and hand you over to Daeg?
“Too little, too late,” I said.
“I know, but I’m begging you for a chance to make it up to you.”
I drew my knees to my chest and hugged them. Cool night air licked at the perspiration on my skin. I tucked my face into my lap and squeezed my eyes shut. “Why did you do it, Gideon? I trusted you. My father trusted you. You betrayed us both.”
The leaves crackled under his feet as Gideon stepped again, but I couldn’t tell if he was coming close or moving farther away. “Daeg raised me as his son, Evie. My father was a violent drunk who took out his grief on me too many times to count, but I had to take it so he wouldn’t hurt Marlis. Daeg was the one who took us away from that. He educated me, raised me, trained me to fight. I would have done anything for him. You understand—you would have betrayed someone if your father asked you, too. You know what it’s like to love someone that much.”
His words made more sense than I wanted to accept. I didn’t want to empathize with him. “Then why did you change your mind? Are your convictions so fickle?”
Dried leaves crunched beside me. I drew in my breath, holding it tight in my chest, praying for Gideon to pass without noticing me. No luck. His hand whipped out and latched onto my wrist. He dragged me to my feet and pushed me hard against the same tree I had been hiding behind. He pressed himself against me so I couldn’t run away. Thunder rumbled overhead.
“Don’t Evie,” he said, low and soothing—the voice a horse trainer uses on a skittish colt. “Don’t bring a storm down on me.”
“I can’t help it. I’m afraid and angry. The storms bow to my emotions. Talk fast if you don’t want to get struck.”
“Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you. Not anymore.”
I scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”
“Give me a chance to prove it. It’s ripping me apart, knowing what I did.”
I stamped a foot. “It’s ripping you apart? What about what Daeg was going to do to me? Steal my thunder. Take the only part of my father I have left. And you were the one who delivered me into his hands. Why did you do it, Gideon?”
His heat leeched through my gown’s think silk. I didn’t want to take his comfort, but my greedy body soaked it up anyway. He sighed and dropped his forehead into the crook of my neck and shoulder. His warm breath washed over me. “Daeg constantly told me the Stormbourne’s had stolen his birthright. He forced me to read that damned scroll every day for a year when I turned thirteen. He made it my punishment anytime I did something that displeased him. Daeg made me hate your family almost as much as he did, but then I met your father and worked for him, and I came to know him and see how his people loved him. It filled me with contradictions.”<
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Gideon paused and took a deep breath. He raised his head and his warm breath tickled my cheek. “You filled me with contradictions, Evie. You made me doubt everything about myself. When Daeg took you away, after you ran from me, when I told you the truth, I thought I could walk away. I tried to walk away. I tried to let you go.”
“Why did you come back?” I whispered.
His thumb, the one at my waist, stroked back and forth over my ribs. A part of me wanted to tell him to stop. A bigger part of me wanted his comfort, despite the damage he had wrought.
“I broke a promise,” his said. “I’ve never done that before.”
“I had assumed you meant you made a promise to Daeg.”
“I did promise Daeg, but I promised your father, too. And I promised you.”
“You don’t think my father ever suspected your intentions for me?”
“I don’t know. The day he hired me, he asked me to swear to protect you if anything ever happened to him. I thought he wouldn’t give me the job if I didn’t.”
“So you lied to him.”
Gideon shoved me again, but gently. “I’m not lying, now. I’m here to do what I swore I would.”
“I don’t care if you are lying, or if you aren’t. I don’t trust you.” I tried to say the words with conviction, but they came out choked and weak. “I don’t want you.”
He snorted. “Now, I don’t believe you. Stop fighting me, Evie.”
“You broke my heart.”
“I know. Let me try to make it up to you. Please.”
“The only way you can make it up to me is to let me go. Walk away and let me go.”
He grunted. “Anything but that.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking you to let me keep my promise.”
“You’ll protect me even while it’s still possible that I hate you?”
He sighed, and it sounded as cold and hollow as a winter breeze. “Yes. Hate me if you must. I can’t blame you.”
Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) Page 26