Shattered Kingdom

by Angelina J. Steffort

  “We need to get out of here,” Armand reminded her. “And Addie, too.”

  Gandrett pulled away, releasing him from her arms to turn and check on Addie.

  The girl still lay face down on the ground, but the blue tint on her skin had vanished—as had the frost on the ground.

  To Gandrett’s surprise, the icy air had turned warmer, letting her breath leave her mouth and nose unnoticed, no clouds of haze hovering before her face as she exhaled. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed that dragon fire had almost gone out, making it nearly impossible to see.

  “Help me.” She grabbed Addie’s legs from the side, waiting for Armand to lift her torso. “Carefully,” she cautioned as the blood on the unconscious girl’s back started to spread on her clothes. “We need to get her out now.”

  They didn’t look back as they groped their way along the now lightless tunnel that led back to Armand’s chambers, nor did they wonder about the sudden warm breeze that seemed to wash through the air. All Gandrett could do was put one step after the other, and again and again, until the dim, flickering light of a torch beckoned them from afar.

  Her legs almost gave out under Addie’s weight as they stumbled toward the light where a worried Joshua greeted them, rushing to aid them with Addie. Gandrett’s heart started racing in alert anew, and it cost her all her willpower to remind herself that the Joshua who had locked her up and tried to kill her wasn’t this Joshua before her. The man whose emerald eyes were so much like Brax’s and whose hands were reaching out to help rather than hurt. “Take this.” He pushed the torch into Gandrett’s hand at the same moment he reached under Addie’s legs with the other, relieving her of the weight. Gandrett took the torch, and together they headed back toward the hidden passageway that connected Armand’s and Gandrett’s chambers.

  “What happened?” Joshua wanted to know, his eyes on Addie’s bloodied dress as he and Armand gently laid her down on the couch. His emerald eyes glanced up at Gandrett, who wasn’t certain if she should be afraid of him or thankful for his help.

  As Armand recapped how Gandrett had found the invisible door, how Linniue had brought Addie down into the dragon lair as a vessel for Shygon—a blood sacrifice to buy Joshua power—Joshua listened in silence, his hands busy with the vigilant movements of cutting open Addie’s dress from the shoulder down. He lifted the fabric inch by inch, so slowly that no additional tissue would tear from her wounds, and folded the dress to the sides, leaving her hips and legs covered.

  Only when Armand mentioned that Linniue was dead—how she had died—did Joshua pause and look up, deep sorrow shadowing his features. “I wish I had been there to stop her,” was all he said, and there was silent mourning in his movements as he walked to Armand’s bathing chamber.

  Armand stepped to her side as she bent over Addie’s back, examining the wounds—bruises with bits and parts of split skin. The horrible evidence of being beaten with a rod.

  She swallowed as phantom pain spread on her own back and arms. No more. After she got out of there, after she delivered Joshua to Ackwood and stayed with her family for a year, she would no longer live at the priory. She would be sent on missions all over Neredyn, far away from the place that had scarred her so deeply.

  “She is barely breathing,” Armand noted with a huff of exhaustion.

  “Don’t you have any of that Dragon Water left?” Gandrett didn’t look up from the array of blooded streaks as if her gaze itself could soothe them.

  Without another word, Armand darted from her side and followed Joshua into the bathing chamber from where they emerged together, carrying a bowl and one of Deelah’s flasks, along with a fistful of towels.

  Gandrett took a towel from Joshua’s fingers and reached into the bowl before she gingerly dabbed at the wounds, careful not to hurt Addie more than necessary. The girl had suffered enough.

  A groan escaped Addie’s lips, flooding Gandrett with relief. She was coming around.

  “You’re safe, Addie,” Gandrett told her and placed one hand on the girl’s forearm. “You’ll be fine.”

  Armand added a few drops from the flask into the warm water in the bowl, took a piece of cloth himself, and joined Gandrett in her efforts from the other side of the sofa, his eyes cautiously on Addie’s raw back. “She’s lucky to be alive,” he murmured as he got to work, watching as skin slowly knitted itself back together where he touched it with Dragon Water.

  When Gandrett studied him as he dabbed along one long slash, she noticed that his hands and face were clean, all traces of those tears gone, but the endless sorrow in his eyes remained.

  “Maybe I should clean up, too,” Gandrett realized, a welcome excuse to buy some time to sort her thoughts now that she knew Addie would be all right.

  When she laid down her towel, Joshua was there to take over, his face serious and full of gratitude despite the loss he’d suffered.

  She nodded at him, unable to speak, and trudged back to her chambers, the open door that led to the temple of the god of dragons which had become Linniue’s tomb costing her a glance as she passed by. There was no icy draft kissing her skin, no blue light, no sinister whispers—only darkness.

  Her legs sagged the moment her bed was within reach, and she let herself sink onto the soft covers. Just one short moment of rest. It was all she asked.

  Gandrett woke what had to be hours later, stirred by the sensation of another presence in the room. She bolted upright, hand reaching for her side in reflex to where her sword should have been. Where it would be again as soon as she made it out of this castle.

  “Why didn’t you send word you needed help?” a familiar voice asked from the side, and Gandrett spun on the spot, her already-strained heart threatening to burst.

  She found him perched on the windowsill, dark hair illuminated by the rising sun, making him look as if he was wearing a crown of light.

  “Don’t tell me you can fly,” she asked, her voice hardly a breath, but she knew he would hear it. Nehelon’s Fae ears didn’t miss anything.

  Slowly, as if not wanting to make a sound, he climbed down from the windowsill, setting one foot then the other, onto the wooden floor. As he walked toward her, tense as a desert lion on the hunt, she could make out his features against the light. Her stomach tightened—

  He looked paler than she remembered, face calm, professional as he assessed her head to toe, his gaze lingering on her torn and dirty dress, the stains of blood—her blood, Addie’s, Armand’s, she couldn’t tell. When his eyes reached her face full of conflict, his glamour slipped ever so slightly, and those exquisite, diamond-blue eyes turned rich with expression. And she beheld his mouth—that mouth that may or may not have touched hers. A tingling sensation ran through her lips like the echo of a dream.

  “No,” he whispered as he stopped at arm’s length, “But you wouldn’t believe how fast you can climb if you have the wind at your disposal.”

  For a long moment, Gandrett just stared at the impossibility of his presence. A beautiful illusion who had tossed her into this mess and had now come to retrieve her. She couldn’t tell if he was upset, if he would yell at her, if he would stand like a handsome statue for the rest of eternity.

  And she didn’t care.

  He was here.

  “Must have been quite a meal,” he said, lips twitching at one side. And as she didn’t respond, “Riho delivered your message.” He took another step. And another. Hesitant in a way she had never seen him, eyes probing hers like a million facets of light boring into her soul.

  And before Gandrett could gather a clear thought, his arms were around her, careful at first as if he was anxious not to break her apart, then crushing her tightly to his chest.

  His scent was as she remembered it—no scent in the human world compared to it. No flower, no type of wood.

  She took a deep breath, letting it wash over her, a cleansing breeze that soothed her mind, her aching chest where her magic had poured out and left a gaping hole.

&nb
sp; Chapter Forty-Six

  Alive, his eyes seemed to say as he let go of her after what seemed a moment or eternity, Gandrett couldn’t tell. Too lost had she gotten in the depths of his arms, cheek resting against the leathers on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. A heart that had been beating for a long, long time before she had even been born. Probably before her parents and grandparents and their grandparents had been born. A creature as eternal as the snowy mountains and the flowing waters of Neredyn. Something ached deep within her chest as she studied him, his face so much higher up than hers.

  As if he had read her thoughts, his gaze wandered down to her mouth, to where dirt and blood were still covering her face. He brought a broad hand to her cheek and let it rest there, her skin heating under his palm. His thumb strayed down to the corner of her mouth, a stroke so light she couldn’t tell if it was really there, and her pulse picked up speed. His thumb slid further, crossing the curve of her lower lip, lingering.

  Vala help her, the sensation brought her far from anything her life as a Child of Vala should have in store. She sucked in a breath, her lips falling open as if she could inhale his touch.

  And his gaze wandered back to meet hers, different. Deep. Full of wonder and mystery, and a lifetime of memories that she had never noticed once. She stood on her toes to bring herself an inch closer to the enigma of blue diamond, and as if her movement reminded him who he was, who she was, his eyes iced over just as she noticed a hint of that softness that she had glimpsed in her dream—in reality—in the forest.

  Gandrett stepped away, feeling the calluses on his hand scraping over her cheek as she slid her face out of his touch.

  “Joshua,” she remembered.

  Nehelon crossed his arms as she took another step away from him. His face was unreadable.

  “I am glad you are not forgetting about your mission,” he commented without sounding at all glad.

  She hadn’t. She had fallen asleep, leaving Armand and Joshua alone tending to Addie. She had promised to be back immediately. And now it had to be hours later, and she was wasting her time indulging in an emotion that had no room in the life of a Child of Vala.

  She left Nehelon without an explanation as she ambled into the bathing chamber where she washed her face and hands and, without bothering to look at the mirror, darted back across the room right to the hidden passageway that led to Armand’s chambers. “Stay where you are,” she ordered in a whisper. “Better—hide.”

  Nehelon only raised his eyebrows, for once, it seemed, at a loss for words.

  “Don’t believe for a moment that I will let you go on your own.” His words came from right behind her where he had snuck up on her on silent Fae feet.

  With a leap that almost brought her face-first into the open door to Shygon’s temple, she avoided his breath on her neck and turned. “It’s not just Joshua over there.” She pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. “The enemy is in the same room.” She mocked Nehelon, herself, anyone who had ever called Armand an enemy by the way she emphasized the word.

  Nehelon just stared, unfazed by her explanation, and it occurred to her that he hadn’t asked her what had happened since she had awoken to an image of the gods on her windowsill.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked in a whisper.

  Nehelon shrugged at her question. “Long enough to know that you succeeded to a full extent in coaxing the enemy around your little finger.”

  Gandrett stared at him with incredulous eyes.

  “He checked in about a hundred times while you were asleep,” he explained, a sour expression gracing his sensual lips. Gandrett feared the worst. If Nehelon still thought of Armand as the enemy…

  “No, I didn’t kill him.” He lifted his hands in defense. “When after the ninety-eighth time, he still didn’t do anything but stare at you from the doorway and sigh, I decided it was time to introduce myself.”

  Gandrett’s heart almost stopped.

  “Don’t worry,” he said between clenched teeth. “I didn’t harm a hair on his head.” He paused, a flash of mischief brightening his features. “Not after I put a sword to his throat and let him tell me the whole story. I can’t wait to hear your side of the tale.” As fast as the flash had appeared, it was gone, leaving Nehelon’s gaze pensive. “Why didn’t you send word you needed help?” he asked, voice raw.

  “I had help,” she retorted. What had he done to Armand? To Joshua and Addie?

  Gandrett’s heart ached from the way his eyes bore into hers as if he could see right into her mind. Right into her soul. Whatever he found there, he stepped closer once more, one hand on his heart. “Why didn’t you send word you needed my help?”

  His words were a dagger to her heart. What could she tell him? That she had spent hours pondering if that kiss had been real. That she had been too proud to ask for his help after everything that had happened? That she knew that it was impossible to get into the castle with all the guards watching… “Linniue’s guards, Lord Hamyn’s guards,” she mused aloud and turned on the spot. She needed to get to Armand and Joshua. Maybe they had answers.

  As she stormed into Armand’s room, he and Joshua both looked up from the table where they were taking a meal. Addie’s slender shape was wrapped up in sheets on Armand’s bed, thick pillows tucked under her head and shoulders.

  “Deelah brought this earlier when she checked on Addie,” Armand gestured at the plates in front of him. “There is some for you, too.” His eyes wandered over to his bed. “Addie will sleep at least a day, Deelah predicted, but she’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t seem surprised at the tall, intimidating male who was following Gandrett into the room. Neither did Joshua.

  “And for you, too, Nehelon.” Joshua beckoned for the Fae male to join them at the table. Of course, what they would see when Nehelon came closer was a human man; a terribly strong and handsome soldier. A warrior with the looks of the gods and the fierceness of entire armies. What Gandrett saw, however, was that image from the forest. A different Nehelon, a Fae Nehelon, who was trapped in his glamour, forced to hide from the world in plain sight for Vala knew how many centuries.

  To his credit, Nehelon didn’t hesitate as he joined the others at the table and picked up a round little something.

  Bothenia crust. Her stomach growled a greedy melody.

  Gandrett took a steadying breath. She had survived the priory. She had gotten into Eedwood. She had found Joshua, defeated Linniue. And she would not fail so close to the end. She would get out of this castle and bring Joshua back to his father.

  But first, she would eat. As she had told Riho to tell Nehelon—she’d leave as soon as she’d eaten.

  So she prowled toward them with all the grace of a starved goat and sat in the chair that Armand had pulled out beside him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were working for Lord Tyrem’s chancellor?” Armand asked, his gaze weighing heavy on Gandrett. So heavy she didn’t dare look up from the bothenia crust she’d picked up. She bit into it, taking her time to find an answer to his question while her mind was going elsewhere. How would they get out of the castle? How had Nehelon gotten in unnoticed? He had failed before—even if then he had been with humans and had to take a human approach when this time, he’d simply used his Fae senses and Fae abilities to climb up the tower. Riho had to have told him where to find her.

  Her gaze met Nehelon’s as he shook his head almost unnoticeably.

  “I must say, I was surprised to find him in your chambers when I checked in on you.” Armand’s words were a mixture of worry and accusation, but mainly there was a male coldness in his tone that wasn’t directed at Gandrett at all.

  Nehelon’s gaze was still on her as he responded for her. “It might have something to do with your guards fainting on the battlements,” he suggested with raised eyebrows.

  Joshua shot Nehelon a dark look, and Nehelon lowered his gaze.

  “We’re all on the same side now,” he said with the
tone of a diplomat and the wisdom of someone who knew what it meant to have two minds battling in his own head. “Let’s act accordingly.”

  Armand nodded, gnashing his teeth.

  “While you were sleeping, my cousin, Nehelon, and I had a chat,” Joshua opened. “Armand will help us get out of this castle unnoticed.”

  Nehelon didn’t flinch at the mention of the blood relation between Joshua and Armand, which meant, either they had talked about that, too, or he had known all along and hadn’t found it worth his time to tell her. She put it on the list of things she’d probably never have the courage to confront him about and met Joshua’s gaze.

  “So, you’re coming with us?” He had locked her up the first time she had told him she intended to bring him home, and it had been Linniue’s spell making him do it. But now that he was free, his mind seemed set, for he nodded and glanced at his cousin.

  “I am going home,” he said, the sorrow a ghost damping his smile and preventing those emerald eyes from shining brightly. “And when the time comes, I’ll take up my crown.”

  Nehelon nodded at his words, eyes flickering to the chamber doors every now and then.

  “We’ll need to leave soon,” he said with a calm voice, his role as Tyrem Brenheran’s chancellor in perfection, “if we want to use the momentum of confusion.”

  When Gandrett asked Nehelon for an explanation with a gaze, Armand leaned closer and said, “While you slept, I did a control round in the castle.” His hazel eyes were dark with shadows of exhaustion. “It seems most of the guards on duty on the battlements were under her command… Her spell,” he corrected.

  “Did they really pass out as Nehelon said?” Gandrett asked.

  Nehelon bit his bothenia crust and chewed, his gaze going back and forth between Gandrett and Armand.