She stopped speaking when she saw Agnes galloping toward them on her horse.
Liam turned and they both watched as Agnes reined in when she was close before she swung off.
She wasted nary a second leading her steed to her queen.
“We’ve received a bird,” Agnes declared. “The Rising launched another attack. They somehow infiltrated the temple during Prince True’s wedding.” She cast a filthy glance at Liam before she finished, “Queen Mercy was slain.”
Ophelia took a step back, such was the blow.
“One of True’s guard was severely injured,” Agnes carried on. “Two others took arrows, but they will be fine. Farah also took an arrow. A flesh wound. She, too, will recover.”
Without hesitation, Ophelia launched in at Liam.
“We regularly beat back those who wish to bring down The Enchantments. But that,” she stabbed a finger in the direction of Notting Thicket, “that will not be abided. There will be no understanding thus no acceptance that these are not the actions of,” she spiked her finger at Liam, “your people. All of you. If True does not wrest control, your temples will be overrun. Your priests will be in danger. You must communicate immediately with this level of priests you speak of who discuss these things and urge them strongly to renounce this Rising. If you do not, your home, your followers, your teachers and physicians, your entire faith will be in jeopardy.”
He was shaken, she could tell by the paleness of his skin and his whisper of, “I did not know they had this planned.”
“That doesn’t matter. Now you do,” Ophelia snapped. “Get thee to a goddess-damned bird.”
He nodded, turned and did not dally.
He took off running.
Agnes’s voice was much changed when she said, “My queen, we have also located the maimed one.”
Ophelia’s head turned to her lieutenant.
“The one who perpetrated this atrocity, has he been identified?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And he is alive?”
“Yes.”
Ophelia nodded. “Let us see to this matter without delay.”
“Yes, my queen,” Agnes murmured.
Ophelia moved to her horse.
Agnes mounted hers.
And they rode.
The stallion’s mare was overly protective of him.
This was unsurprising.
She whinnied her warning angrily, butting under his neck to get in front of him and approaching hostilely as the once-proud stallion, shorn of his horn, apprehensively retreated.
Ophelia’s blood boiled.
“Bring him to me,” she bit, dismounting.
Her own mare shifted back as Ophelia stood where she dropped, not daring to approach either animal.
Enough had been done to them at human hands. They’d never trust another.
They would know they were avenged.
But they would never trust another.
She wondered briefly why they left The Enchantments at all.
She then made note to speak to her witches who spoke to the animals.
They needed to be warned about further wanderings.
When her sisters brought him, she saw he was as she’d ordered him to be.
The priest of The Rising who had perpetrated this atrocity was paralyzed by Nadirii magic, all but his voice, which was muted in its pleas and curses by a gag.
He was thus tossed like a doll to the ground before Ophelia, landing on his back.
At this, the mare nickered, and both creatures braced as if to bolt.
But Ophelia spoke soothingly.
“If I could heal you, I would. If I could give you back your sacred horn, your magic, I would perish from the earth myself to offer these returned to you. But I cannot.”
The unicorns watched her cautiously.
“I can only avenge you, and after, use your magic for good.”
The creatures continued to stare at her.
Ophelia did not delay.
She turned to Julia, who handed her the sacred piece, the magnificent horn that had been taken from the stallion.
It had, as she’d ordered, been cleansed of Melisse’s blood.
Ophelia then took her position, standing over the villain, one foot to each side.
She looked down at him.
He stared up at her with wide, terror-filled eyes, his lips moving around the gag.
“You have achieved your aim. You lie upon the soil of The Enchantments,” she shared with him. “And you die knowing you made your way onto that soil, but you did not make The Enchantments burn. You also die knowing the fullness of the depths of your failure. For you lived to bow others to your beliefs, and your death will serve only to strengthen the protections of a sisterhood.”
She wished to give him time to consider that.
But she did not take that time.
For the unicorns, this must be done.
And she herself had things to do.
Thus, Ophelia lifted the horn up high above her head and felt the twirl of magic coil up her spine.
“Nadirii,” she intoned, “means ‘oppressed’ in the old tongue. Nadirii,” she continued, “means ‘sisterhood’ in the ancient tongue. You die by the hand of a Nadirii and this means you die by the hands of all the sisterhood. And you die tonight due to your treachery against what we hold hallowed. Nature. Magic. Both in one. Both in the majestic unicorn.”
She then brought the horn down, embedding it where he had done the same in Melisse.
However, she did not miss his trachea.
His eyes grew ever wider as they filled with pain, and behind the gag he screamed with the last of the breath he had in what was left of his throat.
She took no joy from that.
Or comfort.
Ophelia simply stepped away and stood with her sisters as he whimpered behind his gag for several moment before his body started to disintegrate.
When it did, it did with coral particles starting from where the horn stuck from his chest.
Up they drifted.
Up.
More of them.
More.
Until all of him was naught but sparkling dust.
It spread high above and was absorbed by the magical shield that protected Nadirii land.
There was nothing left of him. No soul to raise or lower.
His essence would forever protect the Nadirii.
Until it was unneeded.
Then it would just…
Cease.
Ophelia looked to the unicorns.
“It is done,” she whispered.
The mare dipped her jaw.
Then the stallion whinnied.
And they both turned and galloped away.
85
The Family Inside A Family
Princess Elena
Hall Outside the Bramble Reception Suite, Birchlire Castle, Notting Thicket
WODELL
I was lost.
I’d heard from a castle servant the men had returned from Crittich Keep.
But I was avoiding Farah, Ha-Lah and Silence who were talking with my sister about all she’d been doing since Firenze (I did this because I regularly avoided my sister—it wasn’t that I didn’t want to know, it was that I knew they’d tell me later) and I was trying to find my way back to Cassius and my room.
But this bloody castle was humongous.
So, I was lost.
I was moving down the hall toward yet another set of stairs that led up to yet another turret when I noted movement to my right and looked that way.
I then stopped, for Silence was standing at the opposite end of a large room that was filled with tables that were still set elaborately for a royal dinner that had never been consumed.
And it appeared she was standing before a miniature version (but still necessarily large) of the very castle we were both in.
“Allo,” I called as I walked into the room.
She started and turned to me.
There would not be many smiles for a very long time and not only because of what happened that day at the wedding.
Much more had happened, it was just that what happened locally took precedence.
For now.
I wended my way through the tables to her, stopped when I arrived and asked, “Are you well?”
“I’m just…” she gestured weakly to the miniature. “It’s a miracle. This cake.”
I turned to the structure and stared at it in shock, realizing from close it was a cake.
An exact replica of the castle made of frosting tinted in the palest of pinks, yellows, creams, greens and blues. Flowers and leaves and bunting and ribbon adorning the windows, walls, arches and turrets. I could even see little candles that would have been lit in the windows and globes, had there actually been a reception.
“Aunt Mercy did this,” Silence whispered, and my eyes darted to her. “For True. For Farah. For Wodell.” Her attention went to the cake. “Who knew icing had power?”
I felt my heart squeeze.
“Silence,” I said softly.
“She was not warm, but she was a good queen. I could have learned much from her and I sense she would have enjoyed teaching me,” she said to the cake. She then turned to me. “Now I will not, and she will not.”
“You will be your own brand of spectacular queen,” I assured her.
Again, her gaze went to the cake as she mumbled, “I hope so.”
I wanted to get to Cassius, check on the girls.
But watching Silence, I asked, “Do you want to go somewhere and sit, have some tea or a glass of wine?”
Slowly, her eyes came back to me. “I heard the men have returned. I mean no offense, my friend, but I wish to see Mars. He’s been with him and thus I wish my husband to share with me how my cousin fares.”
I nodded and smiled. “That’s understandable.” I then asked, “But before you do that, would you happen to be able to tell me where the hell my room is?”
A surprised laugh came from her, and even if it hadn’t been a day since so much was lost, it sounded strange.
Out of practice.
She hooked her arm in mine and said, “Of course.”
We walked. We chatted while we did. And Silence led me to a floor that was familiar before we bid our goodnights and she retraced her steps to find her own chambers.
As I walked down the hall to the rooms Cassius and I had that were across from the room Dora and Aelia shared, I tried to decide who to go to first.
Cassius?
Or the girls.
My decision was made for me when I arrived at the rooms, saw the door to the girls’ room was slightly ajar, and heard Cassius’s voice coming from there.
“They climbed, and they climbed, and they climbed…” he was saying.
What on…?
I approached the door, adjusted my body so I could see the bed that was set at the side, and froze stiff.
For Cassius lay on his back on the bed, Aelia down one side of his long body, her head on his chest, fast asleep.
But my Theodora lay down the other side of his body, head on his shoulder, and she was not asleep.
He had his head on pillows, his arms around both, and a book propped up close to Dora’s waist.
And he was reading.
“And when they reached the clouds, they did not know if they could step off—”
“Cass,” Dora interrupted him quietly. “She’s asleep.”
“I know, little bean,” he whispered, and my heart squeezed yet again that day, but in an entirely different way.
I had not thought they’d grown close in their time together in The Enchantments.
Though Dora never gave indication she didn’t like him. She answered when he spoke to her (and not in the cheeky way she did to me) and she watched him often and at least gave indication she found him intriguing (not as intriguing as she found Cass’s man Ian, but still intriguing).
But that was not closeness.
However, with that day’s events, I supposed you latched on to whatever you had that was real and breathing.
And lucky for Dora (and Aelia and me), Cass was both.
“I’m reading to you,” Cassius finished.
“I’m too old for bedtime stories,” she informed him.
“Indeed?” he asked with teasing disbelief.
“Yes,” she answered firmly, my Dora, wanting to be a grown warrior and wanting that a week ago. “I’ll listen if Aelia wants, but I can get to sleep without them. Ellie stopped reading to me years ago.”
Those years being, maybe…one.
“Well then, if I tuck you in and turn out all the lights, will you go to sleep?” he queried.
“Of course.”
I watched as Cassius bent to kiss the top of her golden head.
“This I’ll do,” he said after he did that.
I should leave them to it.
I was stuck in the vision of watching Cass kiss Dora’s hair, thus, I did not leave them to it.
And I would be glad I didn’t.
For after Cass tucked her in, Aelia beside her, and blew the lamp out by Aelia’s side, he came back around to Dora’s but grew still when she asked, “Will True be all right?”
Oh, my darling Dora.
Cassius stood immobile for a long moment before he replied gently, “You know he won’t.”
I closed my eyes tight.
“You know he won’t too,” I heard her whisper.
I opened my eyes wide.
How did she know Cassius lost his mother?
Did Aelia tell her?
Did my mother?
Half a dozen other big-mouthed Nadirii (namely, Jasmine)?
“Yes, Dora, I know he won’t either,” he confirmed.
“You have that. I have that. Aelia has that,” she noted. “I love Ellie, and I’m glad she doesn’t have that. But it makes us a little family inside a family, doesn’t it?”
His voice was deeper, thicker, when he replied, “I guess it does, little bean.”
“I don’t like why we have that family, but because of that why, I like we have that family. Still, I don’t like it that True became a member of our family today,” she whispered.
“I don’t either. We’ll have to keep a close eye on him, you and me, while we’re here. Yes?” Cass suggested.
Dora nodded. “Yes, Cass.”
“Now sleep,” he murmured, bent to kiss her cheek and that was when I skedaddled from my position, went across the hall and entered our room.
I was in the dressing room getting a handle on my emotion and wondering how appropriate it would be if I pounced on my prince the instant he walked through the door, and by “pounce” I meant the kind that led to making us both naked. Doing this to share how much I liked that he read bedtime stories and how much I loved how he treated Dora with care.
And I was still wondering when I heard him walk through the door to the chamber beyond.
Instead of making myself naked, I went there and again stopped still when I saw him sitting on the side of the bed, knees spread in that man-seated position that was annoying when you were sitting beside him in a temple pew but rather attractive otherwise.
His hands were turned up, wrists resting on his thighs.
His head was bent.
This I found an alarming posture.
But my alarm grew.
For suddenly, it was like he buckled.
His elbows went to his knees and his body folded, his hands clasping the back of his head.
Good goddess.
What was happening?
I rushed forward, got close, crouched low and reached out to his wrist, murmuring, “Cass.”
“While at the Keep, a castle messenger came. I got a bird,” he said to the area between his knees.
Oh no.
Not more dire news from Airen.
We already knew Sky Bay was under
siege. Nero barely escaped it in order to ride across Airen unrelenting, with no sleep and little food, in order to deliver that message.
“Fern is taken.”
“Shite, Cass,” I whispered.
His fingers unlinked, but he only bent his neck to lift his head in order to catch my eyes.
His sky-blue ones were now unmitigated black.
My stomach clutched.
“Otho is dead.”
I felt my heart spike, and my hands moved instantly to cradle his face.
“No,” I breathed.
“And twenty-three men loyal to me besides.”
“No.” That word trembled from my lips.
“I’m sorry, my darling,” he whispered, using an endearment he’d never used with me before, and I loved it, I just hated what drove him to using it. “We cannot assist True. We can’t even attend Mercy’s funeral. We must be away to Airen as soon as possible on the morrow.”
“Yes, of course. Immediately,” I said swiftly.
“I want the girls on one of Aramus’s ships. I want them in Mar-el. It’s the safest place for them in the now. And I know he’ll order anyone guarding them to die for them if need be.”
Mar-el?
Our girls that far away?
Across the sea?
Not easy to get to by horse?
I thought these thoughts.
“Yes, absolutely,” I said. “I…I think that True will be busy, but perhaps Farah can have a chat with the girls in the morning, let them share how sorry they are, which I know they’ll want to do, while I pack them, and then they’ll be away.”
“Is there any way I can talk you into going with them?” he tried.
My hands pressed into his cheeks, the bristles of his beard digging into my palms.
And then I said what I had to say.
“No.”
He closed his eyes.
“Cass,” I shook his head gently, “look at me.”
He opened his eyes.
“I need to be seen at your side.”
“Yes,” he murmured tonelessly.
“Cass, I want to give you what you want but what you need is your princess by your side, her staff and her sisters at her back.”
“I know it. I just don’t like it.”
“I know you don’t,” I said softly.
He changed the subject.
“We need to send a bird to your mother. I was unable to get her promise to ally with me should the revolt that’s happening now, happen. But she needs to know where her daughter is, where her granddaughters are going, and the state of play at the former. She also has to help Fern, if she can.”
The Dawn of the End Page 4
