by K. M. Shea
Her mind made up, Odette leaned into the leg Rothbart held and, using it as her pivot point, kicked up her other leg and rammed it into Rothbart’s face. He released her and staggered to the side of the rail-less bridge, just as Odette hoped.
She crashed into him, and together they tumbled over the side of the bridge.
For a moment, Odette floated in the orange lake—unable to tell which direction was up and which was down.
Then Rothbart grabbed her leg.
Chapter 12
A Kindness
Clothed in full armor as he was, Rothbart sank like a rock. He would never be able to struggle out of the armor in time to save himself, as it covered almost every inch of him. He would drown, and it seemed he would take Odette with him.
Odette’s lungs screamed for air as Rothbart dragged her down. She tried kicking at him, but the water made her movements sluggish. She was going to die.
She struggled, kicked, and clawed for the surface. Finally, she looked down at Rothbart as they sank to the depths of the lake. She was shocked to see that he wasn’t fighting at all. His face was twisted with grim resignation and a wry smile. His eyes met hers for a long moment. Then, to her shock, he looked at his hand…and released her foot. He sank deeper, his hands encased with his red magic.
Free, Odette started to claw her way to the surface, but her mind was numb with shock.
Why did he let go?
Her vision went blurry, and her lungs felt like a wyvern had shredded them. She was so close! Unable to fight the instinct, she inhaled, and filled her lungs with water.
Cold water flooded her nose, mouth, and throat. Panic swept through her, but someone grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her up.
Odette broke the surface of the lake, sputtering and gasping. Alexsei and Yakov dragged her up onto the bridge as she spat out water and tried to take in greedy gulps of air. She flopped like a dazed fish, sloshing water everywhere, and her body trembled as she coughed out the last of the icy lake water.
Yakov clasped his brother on the shoulder and then sprinted down the bridge. “For Kozlovka!” he shouted, picking up his crossbow and running for the last wyvern that needed to be taken out.
Alexsei sat next to her and pulled her into his arms when she could finally breathe. “You’re alive.” His voice shook with relief as he held her close, not minding that she dribbled water all over him.
Odette hunched closer to him, finding solace in his arms and warmth. Her teeth chattered, and she yelped when the red rope of Rothbart’s spell appeared around her. Every smuggler sported it. But rope didn’t merely entwine around her people. The red magic also wove around the castle.
As she studied the far-reaching magic, it crackled, fizzed, then shattered.
The broken magic freed her like shackles falling from her wrists. Suddenly everything seemed brighter and bigger. Something had changed.
Rothbart was dead. But why had his death affected his spells?
Odette closed her eyes and set her head on Alexsei’s shoulder, shivering, and pressed her forehead into his neck. “You’re alive.” Her voice was watery and thick. She grabbed a fistful of Alexsei’s shirt.
Alexsei chuckled and squeezed water from her hair. “Open your eyes.”
“No.” She scooted closer to him.
He hugged her tighter. “Odette. Open your eyes.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“Because I want you to see your first sunrise with human eyes in four years.”
Odette snapped her eyes open, shocked when she realized some of the warmth she felt was actually sunlight. Her jaw dropped as she stared across the lake and saw the first few rays of the sun shoot through the trees and dance on the lake’s surface.
Tears burned her eyes. It’s so beautiful—so much more beautiful than I ever remembered. “But, how?” Odette murmured. The curse was broken—or at least the free-will spell was. As Angelique had promised, Odette could still feel the vigor spell. And the ability to transform into a swan at will lingered in her as well. But if the curse was broken, that would mean…
Alexsei kissed her cheek and adjusted his grip on her. “It was us, Swan Queen.”
Odette turned to him, her eyes wide.
He chuckled and answered her unspoken question. “Yes, I love you.”
Odette blinked as several tears spilled from her eyes.
Alexsei tenderly wiped them away. “Why are you crying?”
“Because I didn’t think—you’re a prince.”
Alexsei smiled. “And you’re the Swan Queen.”
“I’m a selfish smuggler.”
“We both know that isn’t true.”
“But, but—”
Alexsei raised his hands to cradle her jaw. “Odette, I love you. You’re not going to talk me out of it. I know you, and I know you’re not the criminal you pretend to be. It’s okay. I can love you.”
She stared into his tiger-brown eyes. “I love you, too,” she admitted.
He grinned. “I’m very glad to hear that. Though your broken spell did make me suspect.”
Odette pulled from his gentle grasp and rested her head on his shoulder again. “You are insufferable,” she muttered. Though she was horribly embarrassed, the moment was profoundly beautiful.
Still, the broken magic lingered in the back of her mind. How would our love break any of the spells Rothbart cast on his castle?
Alexsei laughed and embraced her again. “Odette.”
She didn’t respond.
“Odette?”
“What?” She sat upright again and growled.
Alexsei smiled beautifully. “I love you.”
Odette sagged in his arms. “Yeah, me too.” She offered him a smile but started to panic when he drew closer. She knew what was supposed to happen next. He was going to kiss her. But she had never been kissed. What if I accidentally break his nose?
As if he could guess her thoughts, Alexsei chuckled when his lips were a hair’s breadth from hers. “Relax. I’m not going to eat you. Just pretend it’s a smuggling exchange.”
Odette furrowed her brow. “You—”
Alexsei cut her off with a kiss before she could say anything more.
By all rights, it should have been a horrible kiss. Odette was a soggy mess; Alexsei was bruised and scratched, still bleeding from his cheek; and they were seated on a cold wooden bridge, just an arrow shot away from a hissing wyvern.
But it was beautiful.
Alexsei was warm and gentle—like the sunshine Odette hadn’t felt on her skin and hair in four years. Held in his arms, she felt protected and cared for.
I love Alexsei, and somehow he is stupid enough to love me.
When Alexsei finally ended the kiss, Odette sighed with happiness, with relief, with a thousand other things she couldn’t name.
Finally, after four years of constant fighting, it was over.
But not quite.
Odette groaned and leaned back, scooting out of Alexsei’s grasp. “We have work to do,” she said, more to herself than to him.
Alexsei grabbed her hand and yanked her back to him for one more swift kiss. “We’ll finish this later,” he agreed. He stood and offered Odette an arm up—which she took.
At the end of the bridge, Nadia stood, dabbing at her bloody nose. When she saw Odette, she nodded. “Swan Queen.”
Odette—squishing with each step—marched down the bridge, descending upon her. “Are you certain you should be standing?”
Nadia waved off her concern. “I’ve suffered worse.”
Odette stared her down, but Nadia kept her expression bland. “The wyverns have been defeated,” Nadia said, pointing to the three fallen wyverns. “Odile has a strong hold over her wyvern—even when she is not playing her flute. I do not believe we will be forced to put it down.”
Odette glanced at Alexsei as he joined them, then she studied Odile and her wyvern. The beast had gone so far as to sit—like a nesting hawk. It eyed passersby with crimson
eyes but thumped its tail on the ground when Odile patted its wedge-shaped head.
Odette groaned and tilted her head back. “How on earth is she going to keep a wyvern?”
“This does pose an interesting quandary,” Misha said. He had a forehead cut and a badly wrapped arm wound, but his sparkling curiosity was a reasonable indication that he was mostly uninjured. “If Rothbart created the wyverns, do they have a base nature of evil? If so, is Odile’s effect on the wyvern temporary?”
Odette tilted her head as she studied the wyvern. “Rothbart said the wyverns weren’t ready—and Odile’s is fairly ungainly. If it’s young, and its mind is malleable, I suspect it is now about as devoted as one of Odile’s pets. She has that effect on most creatures.” She shook her head. “As long as it’s under her control now, it’s a problem to ponder later. Misha, what is our status? Any deaths?”
“No, but there are many injuries—some of them are quite serious.” He hesitated.
“What is it?” Odette asked.
“Iosif. He’s alive, but it doesn’t look good.”
Alexsei squeezed Odette’s shoulder and stepped away. “I’ll get one of our healers.” He jogged off, joining the chaotic swell of soldiers that scrambled over the lakeshore.
“Where’s Iosif?” Odette asked.
“This way.” Misha moved to the forest—where Odette could see several smugglers—a bright spot of white among the shade of the trees—crowded together.
Lying down at the center of the circle was Iosif. His white shirt was torn, and it looked like a wyvern had clawed his chest.
“Iosif.” Gala sobbed so hard her body rocked with the intensity of her emotion. “You idiot! Why did you try to protect me, again?”
Iosif took in a rattling breath. “Because I l-love you.”
Tears dripped from Gala’s eyes, and she took Iosif’s limp hand and cried.
The sight twisted Odette’s heart, but she forced her affection aside. Iosif didn’t need her sorrow—he needed her help.
“Move,” Odette snapped to Gala as she knelt at Iosif’s side. “Tear off the cleanest part of your skirt and apply it to his wound.”
“S-Swan Queen,” Iosif stammered.
Odette glanced from his chest wound to his face and offered him a brief smile. “I told you before, Iosif, to stop trying to play hero.”
He exhaled a pained laugh. “Y-yes.”
Odette riveted her attention back on Gala. “Lean into it with all your strength.”
Iosif winced as Gala pressed the chunk of her wadded up skirt against his chest.
“But it’s hurting him,” she whispered.
“Doesn’t matter. If we don’t stop the bleeding, he’ll bleed out. Push,” Odette urged.
A man carrying a leather satchel pushed his way through the forest. “His Highness said there was a wounded soldier here?”
“Here,” Odette called. She stood and moved aside, giving the healer room to work. In short order, he had Iosif’s wound cleaned, sewn, and bandaged.
“Keep the pressure on it,” he advised. “Things will be dicey, but if he’s properly cared for, he’ll pull through.”
Odette’s shoulders hunched with relief. “Thank you for your help.”
The healer smiled and gave her a choppy bow. “Of course. To whom should I give the instructions for his care?”
“Me!” Gala scrambled to her feet, impatiently wiping tears from her eyes.
“I’ll help her,” Gleb said.
Odette nodded her thanks at the older man and drifted away from them. She picked her way across the battlefield, skirting the wyverns so she could count the smugglers and take inventory of their wounds. Twenty-two. Everyone is accounted for. Odette closed her eyes and let herself soak in the relief. We made it. We’re alive; the curse is broken, and Rothbart has been stopped.
For one brief moment, Odette recalled the frightening coldness of the lake and Rothbart deliberately letting her go. Did we really break the curse? His hands glowed with magic as he sank, so perhaps Rothbart broke the cord. But why? After four years of this madness, why would he finally set us free?
She opened her eyes and set her sights on the crumbling castle. Once more, she lifted her chin and started for the bridge.
“Have all your people been tended to?” Alexsei asked, joining her at the mouth of the bridge.
“Yes.” She stared up at the keep that housed Rothbart’s workshop. “So I aim to get some answers. Now.”
Alexsei wove his hand through hers, drawing her attention. He smiled. “Shall we?”
Odette squeezed his hand and nodded.
By late morning, Odette was still no closer to finding answers. She impatiently sifted through papers in Rothbart’s workshop. Why did he let me go? Why did he begin this widespread attack in the first place? She sighed and pushed leather-bound books aside.
Alexsei snaked an arm around her waist and whispered in her ear. “It’s okay. We’ll find out what happened eventually.”
“It feels too convenient,” Odette said.
“What does?”
“Our broken curse. It wasn’t tied into any of the defense spells Rothbart cast on the castle, so why were they dismantled at the same time?”
Alexsei’s gently squeezed her. “You doubt our love?”
“No! No,” Odette said passionately.
Mollified, Alexsei kissed the top of her head.
She continued, “It’s just, there are too many unanswered questions, and I feel like I’ve been manipulated. But Rothbart is dead.” She leaned into him for comfort and didn’t startle when the door creaked open.
A soldier peeked in. “Your Highness? Lady Enchantress Angelique has arrived with reinforcements and additional supplies.”
“Excellent. Please bring her here. Have one of the captains organize the new soldiers and get a party together to return to the castle,” Alexsei said.
The soldier saluted and slipped back through the door, which was almost thrown off its hinges moments later.
Yakov stormed through, Odile at his heels. “We found nothing.” He threw himself into a chair with disgust. “He torched everything in the dungeon. Must have done it right before coming out to fight. Some of it was still smoldering.”
Odile shifted from foot to foot. “It’s odd,” she said. “My father was always so proud of his work. Why would he destroy it?”
Alexsei tapped his fingers on a gouged workbench. “You found nothing about creating wyverns?”
Yakov shook his head. “Not even a scrap.”
Odette tilted her head back and groaned. “Then his spells must be somewhere in here.”
“I don’t think so,” Odile said. “We found evidence of reference books, spells, sketches, and a number of magical ingredients I have never seen before. I am almost certain that all of his work on the wyverns was done in the dungeon.”
“But what was the point of destroying his research?” Odette asked.
Odile glanced worriedly around the room. “I do not know.”
Odette sighed and shook her head. “I need to clear my head. I’m returning to my camp—the smugglers’ camp.”
Yakov poked reluctantly at a set of beakers. “I’ll keep searching for information.”
“And I will accompany Odette. Lady Enchantress Angelique will arrive soon, Yakov. I imagine she is our brightest hope in finding useful information.” Alexsei said.
“Right. You’ll stay with me, won’t you, Odile?” Yakov asked with his charming grin.
“I really should see to the wyvern,” Odile said nervously.
Yakov winced. “That is a good excuse. Right then, be off, the lot of you!”
“Don’t try mixing anything,” Odette warned as Alexsei opened the door for her.
“Me? Of course not,” Yakov said, even as he toyed with a shriveled fern Rothbart had left on the bench.
Odette jabbed a finger in his direction. “I mean it! You could blow the castle to smithereens if you mix the wrong ingredi
ents.”
Yakov rolled his eyes. “Your concern is noted. Go check on your camp.”
Odette glared at him and stormed through the door. “I can’t believe the two of you are related,” she said when Alexsei closed the door.
“Doesn’t it make perfect sense?” Odile asked. She led the way through the castle, taking them down a set of stairs. “Alexsei is calmer tempered because Yakov is his older sibling. His character is shaped as such in order to counter Yakov’s.”
“Too much science for me to ponder the stupidities of Yakov’s character,” Odette said. She winced when she heard the hellhounds snapping from the room in which Odile had locked them. “We’ll have to take care of those hounds soon.”
“There’s no need,” a familiar, melodious voice said. Lady Enchantress Angelique smiled up at them from the bottom of the staircase. She looked worse than when Odette had last seen her. Her dress was rumpled, and she had a small cut that sliced through her eyebrow.
“Lady Enchantress,” Odette and Alexsei murmured and bowed.
Angelique smiled—though it only amplified the dark circles under her eyes. “I believe I said to call me Angelique.”
“Angelique, please allow me to introduce you to Odile—a good friend of ours,” Alexsei said.
Angelique tilted her head. “You are Rothbart’s daughter?”
Odile trembled. “Y-yes.”
Angelique renewed her smile—which was more serene and less forced this time. “I am glad to meet you—I have heard much about you from Odette and Alexsei.”
“If you’ll excuse my interruption, Angelique, Yakov is in Rothbart’s workroom,” Alexsei said. “He’s searching for any trace of reference material that will tell us how Rothbart made the wyverns. He could desperately use your help.”
“I see. I can’t keep him waiting, then, can I?” Angelique curtsied and brushed past them so she could take the stairs they had recently descended.
“Lady Enchantress?” Odile called.
Angelique smiled. “Please, Angelique.”
Odile blushed. “If you please, Angelique, why won’t it be necessary to take care of the hellhounds?”