by M. Lynn
Weaponless, Rissa turned to run, but a huge hand settled on her shoulder with a vise-like grip and pushed her straight into the wall. Her head bounced off the wood with a hollow sound as black spots filled her vision, the threat of passing out all too real. Her knees wobbled, and she nearly sank to the floor, but the meaty hand grabbed the front of her tunic and pushed her back into the wall, her toes dangling just above the marble floor and his sword at her chest. She yanked in vain at the hands holding her, trying to loosen his grip.
“Where is the old man?” the soldier growled in her face, his breath enveloping her with its rotted meat stench. She gagged in reflex. “Answer me before I slice you open,” he spat as he shook her a bit more.
Rissa fought to control her panic as Avery’s words popped into her head. When you are in a frazzled state of mind, you cannot act with speed or clarity.
Her eyes fell on the knife sheath at his side and a spark of hope bloomed.
“Please,” she begged as she stared up at him. “Don’t hurt me. You need me alive. I’m Princess Rissa. Eisner and Calis would want me alive. You can’t hurt me.”
His muddy eyes opened wider in recognition, and the black toothed smile crossed his face again as he realized what her confession meant. He had the princess in his possession. Eisner would be pleased. His grip loosened as he dropped her back on her feet and lowered his blade. Rissa made her move. Before he could react, she ducked, evading his grasping hands and yanked the knife from his belt. She dodged around him, so she was at his back. She kicked at his knee with all her might, connecting solidly and sending him stumbling off balance. He growled as he tried to catch himself against the wall, and spun with his sword out, not seeming to care that she needed to be taken alive. Rissa evaded the wildly swinging blade and caught him in his side with the knife. It sank deep, up to the hilt and she ripped down on it, slicing him open from his side to his gut. He died with a silent scream still on his lips.
Rissa stumbled back as he collapsed, his flowing blood staining the white marble floor. That same blood covered her hands, and she stared in horror as they started to tremble. This wasn’t the first time she’d killed, but it was the first time her hands had directly taken a life. This was different. Shooting an arrow was by far easier than staring into someone’s eyes as the light left them. She clasped her hands to stop the trembling and closed her eyes, breathing in deep through her nose.
The sounds of the outside battle finally registered. Trystan and the others were still fighting Eisner.
Pull yourself together. Trystan needs you.
Wiping her bloody hands on her thighs in disgust, she leaned over the soldier and grabbed the heavy sword from his lifeless fingers. She pushed what she’d just done to the back of her mind and turned to run for the entrance, hoping against hope that her people were still alive.
She hit the cold air expecting to see the worst, but a miraculous sight met her eyes. Whereas Cullenspire’s soldiers had first been outnumbered by Eisner’s men, the grounds were now crawling with what looked like villagers—women and men dressed in peasant garb- overrunning the enemy soldiers with pitchforks and axes and home-made spears. Rissa paused in disbelief, even as her frantic eyes searched for her brother.
“Princess!” Lady Yaro sprinted across the distance separating her from Rissa, the fear evident in her voice. “Are you injured? You’re bleeding.”
“It’s not my blood,” Rissa answered, distracted as she continued to search for Trystan. Her panic mounted as he was nowhere to be seen. “I need to find my brother.”
“No, you can’t go into battle.” Lady Yaro stopped her headlong flight by grabbing Rissa’s wrist holding the sword. “The land owners still loyal to your family have come to aid us. Let them and my men handle this. You must stay safe.”
“Let me go.” Even as Rissa yanked on her arm a horn sounded, startling both women.
“Retreat!”
The yell echoed on the wind. Rissa met Lady Yaro’s gaze, the older woman’s expression as confused as her own. Was the enemy truly retreating? She prayed to the earth it was so.
And is if answering Rissa’s unspoken prayers, the Isenore soldiers began to dissipate in realization that they were now outnumbered and losing ground. They turned tail and ran through the gates, leaving behind their injured comrades without a second thought. Some land owners chased after them, screaming obscenities and ordering the cowards back, but it did no good. They disappeared into the evening shadows, leaving silence in their wake.
Rissa stood for a moment, her breath wheezing in her chest, before realization struck her and she went running into the courtyard. Avery was the first one she saw, and she almost collided with the woman.
“Trystan.” His name stumbled out of her mouth. “I need to find Trystan.”
Avery shook her head, her eyes scanning their surroundings. Cullenspire’s soldiers picked themselves up in a daze. Some bent over bodies on the ground. Some wept.
Lady Yaro appeared at Rissa’s side again. “The last battle we had here…” She paused and wiped a tired hand over her face. “Your father and Adrian Coille fought alongside my husband.” Her expression turned dark. “That was the last time any of us had any hope.” She turned away from them. “My daughter’s inside. I need to go to her.”
Rissa’s eyes found Alixa and Edric next, huddled over the body of the girl Eisner had brought with him. If her heart wasn’t already cracked beyond repair, it would break for them. They’d thought she was dead and then for one moment they’d had her back.
Rissa ran a shaky hand through her hair. Would losing Davi again be worth looking him in the eye once more? No. She didn’t think she’d survive seeing the light fade from him again.
Turning from Alixa, she wiped her bloody hands on her shirt. Where are you, brother? Her heart beat painfully in her chest. She had to know he was okay.
She lifted her eyes at a commotion up ahead as a man pushed through the crowd of injured and tired people. When his gaze found her, relief flooded his face.
Rissa sucked in a breath. “Trystan.” She ran the short distance between them and fell against him. “Thank the earth you’re okay.”
His arms came around her and he held on tightly. “I lost sight of you. You weren’t supposed to leave your post, especially not to join the fight down here.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” His shirt muffled her words.
He released her and met her eyes sternly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Yeah, yeah. If you’d have died and left me as the only heir, I’d have killed you. I’m no queen.”
Her words pushed them both into silence for a moment as the aftermath of the failed attack swirled around them.
“Eisner got away.” Trystan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “He ordered the retreat and I just… let him go.”
“No one else needed to die,” she said quietly.
“Do you think he was telling the truth?”
Rissa’s eyes hardened. “Eisner wouldn’t know the truth if it cut off his balls and shoved them down his throat.”
Trystan snorted but there was no humor in it, only disgust because they both knew. Despite their feelings about Eisner, he hadn’t been lying.
Rissa sighed. “Uncle Drake stole our father’s throne, didn’t he?”
“I think that’s a fair assumption.”
“He can’t get away with it.”
“He won’t.” Trystan raised his face to the falling snow.
“What are we going to do about it?”
“Think about it, Ri. If Drake had taken control of the palace, do you really think he has allies among the nobles? Among Father’s nobles? Where would our friends gather?”
“I quite enjoy Whitecap,” she said, finally catching on. “I think we’ll find many friendly faces there.”
“Briggs should be well enough to travel.” He glanced back towards where Briggs was being kept safe inside. “Dammit, we’re supposed to be heading into
Dreach-Dhoun.”
“Trystan.” She gripped his arm firmly. “What’s the point of going into Dreach-Dhoun to save our kingdom if we don’t have a kingdom any longer?”
“I thought all you wanted to do was run towards Dreach-Dhoun to take your revenge?”
She released a long breath. “Davi is gone, Trystan. Nothing I do will change that. Father is gone as well. I don’t want to lose Dreach-Sciene too.”
He nodded. “We’ll leave tomorrow for Duke Coille’s estate at Whitecap. If we have allies, that’s where they’ll be.”
She offered him a grim smile and turned to head back inside.
“Ri,” he called after her. She paused but didn’t turn to face him. “You know you still have me, right?”
Her lips twitched, and she started walking again. She had a journey to prepare for. It wasn’t the trek she’d been expecting, but it was the one she needed. After feeling helpless to save so many people in her life, it bolstered her knowing she could do this. They would save their home.
Chapter 7
Someone screamed, and the sound bounced around the room. A sharp slice of pain dug deeper into Davi’s chest until it was all that existed.
He didn’t understand the jumbled images in his dreams. A battle. There’d been a battle.
The scream sounded again, a high-pitched keening that settled in a heavy cloak around him. His eyes popped open, and the screaming cut off abruptly, the pain vanishing in an instant.
It had been him. His chest rose and fell with rapid succession as he tried to breathe air that was laden with grief.
Grief? What did he have to grieve? He’d returned home from his prison to a father who loved him and a people who revered him.
He was the triumphant prince.
But not in his dreams.
He ran a hand through his sweaty hair as he tried to recall the images from the night. Nothing.
Memories had been returning rapidly with each of Ramsey Kane’s sessions and the information was almost too much to process.
Maybe he’d been dreaming of what they did to him in Dreach-Sciene. His time there hadn’t been pleasant. The cruel King Marcus deserved the death his cousin served him, and his children would soon face the same.
He sat up and climbed from the bed on shaking limbs when a scratching noise sounded at his door. Pulling a robe around his shoulders as he went, he yanked the heavy door open and jumped back to avoid being mauled by the dog who barged his way in.
Davi’s heart finally returned to a steady rhythm and he couldn’t even think of sending the beast away. Shutting the door, he turned to find Deor making himself at home on the middle of the bed.
“I thought you weren’t allowed inside the palace?” He shook his head, surprisingly glad for the company.
Deor lowered his head, his large brown eyes studying the prince.
Davi walked past the canopied bed to a table that sat in front of a large window. Golden morning light streamed through, catching on the silver ewer Davi used to pour himself a glass of water. He studied the grounds outside with their dead and twisted trees. The grass was a dusty brown wherever it managed to sprout up at all. Had it been beautiful once?
He’d been told his father drained much of the magic surrounding the palace in order to have the power to bring him back.
But was he worth it? Was he worth turning his kingdom into a graveyard?
A sharp yap rang out behind him and he took a long gulp of water before setting it aside and approaching the bed.
“Lorelai tells me you’re harmless.” He narrowed his eyes. “But nothing is ever truly harmless.”
As if to tell him how wrong he was, Deor shifted forward and lowered his head onto his paws while meeting Davi’s eyes.
“Blasted dog.” Davi reached forward and dug his fingers into Deor’s fur, massaging him between the eyes.
Unable to face the prospect of another day as a prince who didn’t know how to be a prince, he climbed back in bed. As he laid back, Deor scooted up and nuzzled against his chest.
Davi turned his head away from the dog’s smell, but let him remain, his warmth providing the prince with the peace he needed to close his eyes once again and fall asleep.
The heavy rap of a fist on wood woke Davi. Deor jumped from his arms and ran to the door, barking like mad. Davi was slower to follow as he scrubbed a hand across his tired eyes.
He didn’t bother with a robe this time as he yanked open the door, suddenly irritated at whoever was beyond it.
Lorelai stood with a fist still raised as if planning to knock again.
Her usually sad smile turned into a smirk as she took in his disheveled state and the dog who tried to push past him to greet Lorelai.
“Put some clothes on, cousin. Today, you’re with me.”
His eyes flicked down over his bare chest and linen pants and he sighed. He didn’t have a choice. He’d had no control over his days since coming to the palace. And a day with Lorelai was infinitely better than another one spent under the magical powers of Ramsey.
“Give me a moment.” He closed the door, noting Deor opted to stay in the hall with Lorelai.
After pulling on an ensemble more suitable for a prince, he flattened his hair with his fingers and met Lorelai out in the hall. Deor walked at Davi’s side, his large frame occasionally bumping into Davi’s legs.
“Where are we going?” he asked as she led him into the courtyard. Two horses stood saddled and riderless among a handful of guardsmen atop their mounts.
“Davi, you’ve lived most of your life in a land that holds no magic. It’s time you learned of your birthright.”
She swung up gracefully. He pulled himself into his own saddle. In his spotty mind, he didn’t remember doing much riding, but his muscles seemed to remember what his brain failed to recognize as familiar.
They took off through the gates, the guards following at a distance. To Davi’s surprise, Deor loped along next to the horses.
Lorelai looked down at the dog, the hint of a genuine smile on her lips. “Don’t worry, Davi, Deor is a hunting dog. He can keep up.”
Davi hadn’t been worried, but he looked sideways at his cousin. Her smile was gone as she focused on the road ahead. It was as if she fought against every urge to smile or laugh.
He recognized it because he knew the feeling.
The scarred and twisted surroundings soon gave way to rolling hills that grew greener the farther from the palace they rode.
A village came into view, stacks of smoke stretching from rows of chimneys and children’s laughter floating on the breeze. But they didn’t enter. Instead, they skirted around the edges until they came upon a meadow on the far side that screamed of life.
Davi sucked in a breath. The memories that were returning of life in Dreach-Sciene featured a land so devoid of life that he was sure this was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
Their guards put the horses to grazing and then gave them space as Davi walked forward. Freedom existed outside the palace walls and he soaked it in.
“This is what I love about Dreach-Dhoun.” Lorelai smiled, the joy touching her eyes for once. “I spent so long in Dreach-Sciene that I forgot what it felt like to be surrounded by magic.”
“Magic?” He cocked his head as the buzz of energy slithered along his skin.
Amusement flashed across her face at his ignorance. “It’s in the earth, Davi.” She crossed her arms across her small body. “What’s it like to… not remember?”
He shrugged as a weight settled in his chest. What could he say to the cousin he barely knew? But he wanted to know her. If only to have a friend.
How did it feel? Confusing. Painful. Terrifying.
“I can feel them missing,” he finally admitted. “You’d think you wouldn’t know something wasn’t there if you don’t remember it, but you do. I just want it all back.”
Lorelai’s smile dropped, and she shifted her eyes away. It wasn’t the first time he’d sensed there wa
s something she wasn’t telling him. But he never pressed. Something inside him told him he didn’t want to know, whatever it was.
She cleared her throat. “We didn’t come out here to talk. Your father wants me to show you how to control your magic.”
“My magic?” He looked down at his hands but they didn’t look like they were meant for power.
She laughed. “Sometimes, Davi, you get this look on your face that turns you back into the little boy who…”
When she trailed off, he met her eye. “Was kidnapped?”
“Yeah. Kidnapped.” Her shoulders shook as if shivering and he pressed his lips together, trying to read her thoughts.
“We were close when I was a child?”
That brought her smile back. “You used to follow me everywhere. Even as a teenager, I never got annoyed. It was impossible to be mad at you.”
“I wish I remembered.”
The sadness returned to her face. “That isn’t a result of your lost memories, cousin. Even if they were fully intact, you wouldn’t remember those years. It’s the greatest tragedy of childhood.”
His lips curved into a smirk. “I’d say my childhood tragedy was being stolen by an enemy king and held prisoner.”
A laugh burst from her lips and she shook her head. He liked that he could make her smile. Everything inside the palace–his father included–was so very cold. Lorelai’s sadness echoed through the great halls, a tragedy in its own right.
He felt connected to her as if his earliest years tied them together in the most unbreakable of bonds. Family. They were family.
Something the Renaulds had taken from him.
It was another thing they would have to answer for.
Deor pranced across the meadow, pulling Davi from his own thoughts. Could the dog feel the magic?
Lorelai lowered herself to the ground, fanning her skirts around her, not worried about dirtying them. She glanced up, imploring him to join her.
He knelt in front of her.
“I am a seer,” she began. “That is the only kind of magic that does not come directly from the earth. It lives inside of me. But the greater power lives in the very ground beneath our feet. It is not ours to own, only to use. We draw upon it, fighting for control.” She nodded towards the ground in front of her. “Place your hands directly on the earth.”