Golden Crown

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Golden Crown Page 19

by M. Lynn


  Vérité nudged her as if agreeing with her assessment of Edmund. For the first time all night, Etta grinned. “You’ve always known he was an idiot, haven’t you?”

  She sat down and Vérité lowered himself beside her. “I’m going to need a miracle, Vérité. Are you ready to be a hero?” She wouldn’t be there without the horse. He’d gotten her out of more than a few situations.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” she asked. “I told Alex we wouldn’t need them, but I wish I had him by my side.”

  He bared his teeth, and she laughed.

  “You have no reason not to like him, you stubborn beast.”

  Another voice broke through Etta’s one-sided conversation. “I used to think that was really weird.”

  Tyson sat on the other side of Vérité and stroked his back.

  “Used to?” Etta asked.

  “Yeah, now I understand you two.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve never seen anyone with a relationship like yours. Vérité is your soul mate.”

  He said it so simply, but it wasn’t simple at all. From the time she’d found the wild horse in the woods, there’d been a connection between them. He’d started following her and soon she’d attempted to ride him. Nothing had ever been so right as that first time she sat high on his back.

  “Alex—”

  “Is special to you,” Tyson cut her off. “But that doesn’t mean he has to be your soul mate. Most people fall in love, but few ever really find the one being who is so attuned to them it’s like they’re one person.”

  “How did you learn about this stuff?”

  Tyson shrugged. “Amalie.” His eyes pinched in sadness.

  Etta reached across Vérité–her soul mate–and gripped her brother’s hand. “I’m glad you’re my brother.”

  She’d hated her father when she found out. Hated that it tarnished the memory of her mother. But she’d come to accept that some things couldn’t be held on to.

  Tyson grinned, flashing his teeth. “I love you, Etta. And Vérité. I love him too.”

  Before she responded, the massive gates shuddered and began to drift apart, turning outward as they did.

  Etta jumped to her feet and started running toward the gates with Tyson following her. She stopped at the edge of camp to watch them open fully.

  La Dame had set her trap.

  Etta raised her eyes to the full moon hanging overhead and shook her head. “We aren’t going in while it’s still dark.” She turned to Edmund. “I want a watch on guard until the sun rises. If anything comes out of those gates–even the tiniest bit of magic, I hear about it.” To Landon, she said, “We need to rouse the camp. No eye closes while we sit at the mouth of Dracon.” He issued a sharp nod and left to wake his men. Ara went to prepare the Belaens.

  Etta returned to her tent to don the armor that had been put there. She’d left her mail shirt behind, opting for the lighter leather armor she’d always worn when practicing with her father in the woods.

  She didn’t expect to need protection against swords as much as magic so the agility the leather gave her would prove a better defense.

  Her armor firmly in place, she hooked the sword belt around her waist. After strapping a sheath to her leg, she slid a thin knife into it.

  Edmund pushed the tent flap aside and stepped in. “The watch is set.”

  She nodded, her eyes sliding over his shining armor.

  He stepped toward her, reaching around to pull the tight braid over her shoulder. “In Bela, we learned of your likeness to Queen Aurora, but we’ve both heard the stories of Rapunzel. Now that we know there is Draconian blood in your veins as well as Belaen blood, we have answers to all the questions we’ve been asking. It’s funny, your father gave you all the answers you needed when he named you Persinette.”

  “The Draconian word for Rapunzel,” she said softly. “How long have you known?”

  “Esme told me about the translation and then I saw you heal Alex. That’s how Draconian blood entered the Basile line. King Philip didn’t kidnap her. She went willingly. She must have fallen in love with Phillip and Aurora’s son—the first man to fall under the curse.”

  She ran a hand down her braid, stopping at the ribbon tying it together. She pulled it free, and it fluttered to the ground as Etta—Persinette untwisted her hair and let the waves fall down her back.

  Edmund gave her an approving nod. “Use this. Let La Dame see who’s coming for her.”

  “Yes.” Etta nodded. “She’s going to regret the day she raised her magic against my kingdom.”

  When the dawn came, the Belaens mounted their horses and Etta rode to the front. Esme waited for her. The Draconian healer was the only person they had who knew her way around La Dame’s fortress under the mountain and Etta had a crown to find. Esme would lead her straight to La Dame. Etta had never been more sure of anything.

  Edmund sat on her other side. “No death speech,” he muttered.

  This time, she grinned and raised her voice. “We are doing exactly what La Dame wants us to do. And she knows we will. It’s a circle and we will go round and round guessing what the other will do. OR we end it. They are waiting for us. They are hidden, hoping to surprise us. But we are Belaens. We have spent generations being hunted and persecuted. Decades denied our rightful kingdom. La Dame destroyed Bela once, but we are stronger than our ancestors because we’ve had to be.”

  She stopped speaking and nodded to Ara who put her hand to her throat. Silken, spine-chilling words settled over them. “We’re coming for you.”

  Etta wanted the Draconians to fear them. She nodded again.

  “Are you ready?” Ara asked quietly, sending her words across the land.

  Etta nudged Vérité forward, knowing her people would follow her every move. Her hawk-like eyes scanned the gates as she passed between them.

  The town that lay on the other side had been carved into the very side of the mountain. Flat stone rooflines extended far into the mountains. They rode through what looked like a marketplace, but empty streets greeted them.

  No archers lined the roofs. No magic men appeared in the doors or windows, waiting for them to approach.

  The farther in they walked, the more Etta expected attackers to descend on them.

  “Where are they?” Tyson asked.

  It was a miscalculation. Etta had been so sure of the trap La Dame would set. Roads stretched before them like spokes of a wheel, leading up into the mountains.

  “The one on the left leads to the palace,” Esme said.

  Etta clenched her teeth, her magic wanting to lash out at the woman.

  A crash sounded behind them as the gates shut abruptly, then silence.

  Then she heard it, the rumble of hooves on stone.

  “Form up,” she screamed.

  Landon and Edmund both started barking orders as they prepared for the onslaught. The first riders appeared. One man held his sword aloft and stood on the back of a galloping horse.

  “It’s the mercenaries,” Landon said.

  “Not the Draconians.” Edmund shot her a sharp look.

  “They’re sacrifices.” The horror struck Etta. “They just don’t know it. They’re a distraction.” Why else would she send the mercenaries against magic folk to start the battle?

  “Esme,” Etta yelled. “We need to get to that palace.”

  The mercenaries met them in a clash of swords. Landon led his force against their own countrymen while the Belaens fended them off with their magic.

  Etta jerked Vérité’s reins. Mercenaries continued to pour down every road, save one. La Dame was calling Etta to her.

  With one swift kick, Vérité cantered away from the battle ensuing alongside with Esme and her horse beside them.

  The mountain drew closer, its black face serving as the front of the palace. “No guards?”

  “Does La Dame need them?” Esme asked.

  “Good point.”

  The doors stood open
in invitation and Etta slid down from Vérité’s back. “She’s in there.” She turned to the healer. “Where would the crown be held?”

  “She has a treasure room.”

  Setting foot into the palace was like taking a walk in the darkness of La Dame’s soul. Pillars of black onyx lined a grand entryway. Etta strode across the dark marble floor, a tiny gasp escaping her when she reached the painting at the end of the entryway. It was the same woman she’d seen in the palace of Bela and thought Aurora. But now she knew for certain she was looking into the face of someone else. “Rapunzel.”

  Had the man in the painting in Bela not been King Philip at all? Maybe his son?

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Etta asked Esme. “She looks like me. I…”

  “I thought you knew.”

  Etta backed away from the painting, shaking her head. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the woman with her crystal eyes and golden hair. She tried to breathe as her magic slid within her, cutting off any air. She clutched at her throat and she bent over. Control. Control. She forced out a breath and sucked in harshly, pushed the power down. Her throat loosened, but the rage remained.

  She was going to raze this place to the ground.

  “Take me to my crown,” she bit out, knowing with sudden clarity wherever that crown lay, La Dame would appear as well.

  Esme yanked on her arm and pulled her away from the painting to drag her down a long hall and around the corner. A stairwell of dark stone descended into the earth. Damp air greeted them as they took the steps slowly.

  Torches hung along the walls, illuminating a massive cavern under the palace. Etta barely took in her surroundings before finding what she was looking for.

  Each detail—down to the row of gems at the base—was so utterly familiar.

  “Why did she keep it, Esme?” Etta whispered. The cavernous room demanded hushed tones of respect.

  Glass cases on silver pedestals held La Dame’s most prized possessions, but only one called to Etta. She yearned to fold her fingers around it and rest it against her hair. Hair she’d thought a remnant of Aurora’s part in the Basile bloodline. Now she knew better.

  “Because it belonged to her daughter,” a familiar voice said, the sound of her boots on stone echoing off the arched ceilings.

  Esme’s eyes widened and Etta knew exactly what she’d see when she turned around. Maiya walked across the far end of the room and stopped.

  The shock of seeing her old friend again—the girl who’d betrayed her—made Etta struggle to recall what she’d said. When she finally did, it all made sense. She’d had the thought in the back of her mind ever since she’d learned of her Draconian healing powers.

  Maiya moved forward again. “Hello, mother.”

  Etta looked between them as Esme shot Maiya a warning glance. “You led me here,” Etta accused the older woman.

  “Just as you asked me to.”

  Etta clenched her jaw and glanced back at the crown. “I did. Everything we’ve done has brought us to this moment.”

  Maiya continued closing the distance between them. Her eyes flicked to her mother, and she frowned. In that moment, Etta knew her suspicions had been right. It had been too easy. Nothing in life was coincidental. Esme had betrayed La Dame just when they needed a healer.

  Because La Dame hadn’t wanted her to realize her new powers included the Draconian ones.

  She’d been right about her.

  “She’s been manipulating everything.” Etta spoke to herself and for a moment, she would have sworn regret flashed through Maiya’s eyes.

  “Why are you here?” she asked Maiya.

  Esme moved behind her daughter and put a hand on each of her shoulders.

  Uncertainty crossed the younger girl’s face.

  “Etta,” Esme said. “Come here.”

  Etta lurched forward as Esme’s magic took hold but she held herself back.

  “Persinette Basile,” the woman boomed. “Obey.”

  “No,” Etta growled through her resistance.

  Esme’s eyes narrowed. “Rapunzel.”

  “I. Am. Not. Rapunzel!” Power burst out of Etta in a flash of light. It was too fast for her to control. Esme and Maiya flew into the air as if they weighed nothing at all. They didn’t crash to the ground, instead they hung, suspended midair, unconscious.

  A slow clap seemed to come from every direction at once. Etta whipped her head around looking for the source, finally finding La Dame bathed in shadows. Had she been there the whole time? She snapped her fingers and light pushed the darkness away.

  It was a face Etta had seen in her dreams, haunting her every thought.

  La Dame waved a hand and the two unconscious women dropped to the ground. A cry lodged in Etta’s throat as she saw Maiya’s head loll to the side.

  “Interesting,” La Dame said.

  Magic raged through Etta, knowing its target. She breathed heavily. “Another sacrifice.” Just like the mercenary forces who’d been sent against the magic folk of Bela. A distraction.

  “Hmmm.” La Dame tapped her chin. “Sacrifice is an interesting word. It implies the girl was valuable to me. My dear Persinette, the only person of value to me is you.”

  She walked forward, her long silver dress dragging behind her. Etta backed away. “I’m nothing to you.”

  A smirk spread across La Dame’s face. “Phillip said the same thing, but he was wrong. He was everything to me. I wanted to destroy him for stealing my darling Rapunzel.”

  “But he didn’t steal her, did he?” Etta didn’t know where the courage came from but the power swirled through her chest. “She went with him to escape you.”

  “No,” La Dame roared.

  “Rapunzel healed Aurora, woke her, and then chose not to return.” Etta pulled her knife free and sliced it across her own forearm before La Dame could stop her. “She married their son. That’s how I got this.” She raised her arm and sent a bolt of warmth along her skin, watching as the wound closed before her eyes. After wiping the blood off on her pants, she raised her eyes once more. La Dame had moved beside Maiya.

  “So young. So beautiful. She’s not here as my sacrifice, Persinette.” Dark eyes met hers. “She’s yours.”

  “No!” Etta forced her magic to shoot straight for La Dame’s heart.

  The sorceress waved the power away.

  Etta pulled her sword from the scabbard at her waist. Instinct. Everything her father had taught her. Fight first. Think second. No time for hesitation. She lunged forward into a sprint and jumped toward the raven-haired sorcerer, twisting her sword arm to bring it down at an angle. La Dame pushed a hand out in front of her, sending Etta sailing backward. She rolled as she landed and popped back up.

  La Dame raised one brow. “I see Viktor’s influence in you.”

  Etta ground her teeth. “Do not speak of my father. You knew nothing of him.”

  “My dear, I fear it is you who are gloriously misinformed. Viktor was a dear friend.”

  “You lie.”

  “Well, we all have our opinions, don’t we? It saddened me to hear of his untimely demise.”

  Etta lurched forward, flinging her knife with every bit of strength she possessed.

  La Dame laughed as it clattered to the ground. “So very Basile of you. Viktor always thought of conventional weapons before his magic as well. Though, he didn’t possess the great Basile powers.” She cocked her head mockingly. “You can’t control them, can you?”

  A crunch snapped her attention to Esme and Maiya who were stirring. Maiya scrambled out of the way, her doe eyes huge. Etta tried not to pity the scared girl who’d been dragged into her parents scheming, and for a moment it worked. Her magic found its target, and a flame rose, spreading toward the two women Etta once counted as friends.

  Maiya screamed as the fire engulfed her mother’s body and Etta felt nothing at all. She no longer had to direct the magic, it took control on its own.

  La Dame’s laughter slammed into Etta an
d it was only then she realized what she was doing. The flames extinguished immediately and Esme coughed.

  “Yes,” La Dame said, standing still among the shadows. She smoothed her hands calmly down over her black dress before settling her blazing eyes on Etta. “Good, Persinette. Give in to the darkness.”

  White-hot fury raced through Etta and it took everything she had to control the power it brought with it.

  “You can sense it.” La Dame grinned. “I know you can. The emotion. It feels good.”

  Magic expelled from every part of Etta, twisting around the room. Every glass case shattered at once, the shards lifting into the air.

  Etta pointed them at La Dame and flicked her hand. They sped through the room, dropping with a clatter before reaching their intended target. One made it farther, scraping against La Dame’s cheek before falling. She wiped at the tiny trickle of blood in surprise.

  Etta’s chest expanded rapidly. La Dame was right. She felt the power, and the intensity was exhilarating.

  Fire raged in Etta’s eyes.

  “Feed it, Persinette. Let it take you over.”

  “I-I can’t.” Etta stumbled back. “No.”

  “You came to me for a reason. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. Your father thought he could thwart me by marrying a woman with no power. He thought that would keep the curse at bay. But I own you. I’ve always owned you.”

  La Dame threw a force at her that sucked the air from her lungs. Her knees buckled and slammed into the stone floor beneath her. Anger. Hatred. It was all she had. All that had existed since the curse no longer filled her.

  Blackness clouded her vision as a scream rose up around her. It sounded like her, but she was so very far away.

  “Yes!” La Dame laughed.

  “Etta, no!” Maiya yelled. She was cut off abruptly as La Dame forced her back against the wall.

  Etta sent wave after wave of power toward La Dame and she fought each of them off easily. With every moment, the magic took more control. Etta faded into the background and Persinette was relentless.

  Her golden hair glowed and whipped around her shoulders. When her blazing eyes met La Dame’s, she sensed approval, respect even.

 

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