“No, stay down,” Randor mocked. He drew a stone knife from his belt. “I’ll make this quick.”
Emily gathered herself, then threw the virgin blade. She’d charmed it to make sure it could cut through all but the strongest of wards. Randor staggered as the blade lodged itself in his exposed throat, his hand clutching the hilt as if he wanted to pull it out at once. Emily hoped he’d try. The blade wasn’t cursed, but he didn’t know that. And he would be aware of the danger. He’d certainly helped charm the knife that had almost killed Imaiqah. Leaving the blade in place might be very dangerous...
Randor pulled the blade out, casting a healing spell at the same moment. Emily sucked in her breath, remembering the warnings of dire consequences of trying to heal oneself, but Randor seemed to be making the spell work. Emily stared for a long second, then hurled a blast of magic into his face. Randor stumbled back, then thrust everything he had at her. The power slammed into her wards, threatening to burn them – and her – to ash.
He’s weakening, Emily thought. She summoned her remaining power and pushed back as hard as she could. Magic crackled through the air, burning into his body. I can stop him.
She felt her wards beginning to buckle, a second before Randor’s power started to fade. Emily reached for every scrap of power she could muster, pushing as hard as she could. Her headache grew worse as her magic flickered, but somehow held... Randor’s power snapped out of existence, a second before it would have killed her. She looked at the king. His lips were moving soundlessly. He was casting a spell.
Something hit her, something bad. She could feel it tearing into her wards, pain following in its wake. Darkness reached for her, threatening to drag her into the mire. She tried to keep herself awake, but it was a losing battle. Randor might have managed to land a killing blow after all. Light flared as Randor’s body exploded into fire, a howl echoing through the room as the king died, the castle shaking underneath her...
... And then the darkness reached up and dragged her down into merciful silence.
Epilogue
ALASSA HAD known WHAT HER CORONATION would be like from the very first day she’d realized that she would be the first Queen of Zangaria.
She’d imagined it in great detail, of course. She would sit on her father’s throne for the very first time, Jade standing beside her, her face impassive as endless rows of aristocrats, priests and commoners knelt before her. The nine barons would bow their heads, silently hating the fact that they were paying their respects to a Queen. She would listen to their words of fawning obsequiousness and keep her face a mask, knowing that they were already plotting against her. They’d plotted against her father, the strongest man she knew. Of course they’d plot against a mere girl. She’d been looking forward to showing them what a mere slip of a girl could do.
Now...
Her coronation had been a rushed affair, driven by the desperate need to be crowned before nearby kingdoms – and the Allied Lands – started demanding answers. Alicia, the sole senior aristocrat who was relatively unharmed, had placed the crown on Alassa’s head, crowning her in front of a tiny group of supporters, noblemen and city delegates. What should have been a week of feasting had become an hour’s party, followed by the work of slowly putting the kingdom back together. Alassa had signed the Great Charter into law shortly after she’d been crowned, but she knew it would take years to rebuild. Zangaria had been devastated by the civil war.
Alassa sat on the makeshift throne and looked at the spot where her father had died. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, although she’d known – from the moment he’d used necromancy – that he had to go. Emily had killed him, or maybe he’d killed himself, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that either. Randor had been a distant father, more prone to offering advice than fatherly affection, yet... she remembered the bodies in the cells and shuddered. Randor had wiped out most of the old families, the ones who had rebelled against him and would rebel against her, if they’d been given a chance. Alassa was torn between being relieved they were dead – and in a manner that could never be blamed on her – and wondering if her father had been trying to do her a favor. He’d cleared the decks for her to take the throne without organized opposition.
It’s just a matter of time, she thought, as she shifted uncomfortably. The throne was designed to be uncomfortable, a constant reminder that she should never get too comfortable. There will be opposition soon enough.
The wards vibrated, warning her she had a visitor. Jade stepped into the room, looking tired and drained. He’d been busy securing the castle and getting the army reorganized, disbanding some of the smaller regiments while preparing the larger regiments for deployments into the baronial lands. The Noblest might be gone, but their lands were plagued with bandits and mercenaries. They would have to be eliminated, the sooner the better. Alassa had no doubt her forces would succeed. Between her and the Levellers, the bandits would be rapidly cut off from all hope of succour.
“Alassa,” Jade said, quietly. “Emily’s asking for you.”
Alassa felt a pang. They’d found Emily’s body in the throne room, far too close to her father’s remains for comfort. She’d feared the worst before the healers managed to save her friend and move her to her quarters. She hadn’t been able to see her since, even after Emily had woken up. The healers had been insistent that Emily needed rest. Alassa had reluctantly agreed.
At least Cat wasn’t too badly hurt, she thought. He was up and running about in less than a day.
She stood and allowed Jade to lead her through the corridors down to the suite. The castle’s interior was a mess, although a small army of servants were already working on putting things back together. Alassa found it hard to care about the portraits and tiny statues. They simply weren’t important, compared to the nightmare settling across her kingdom. But it was apparently important to keep up appearances. She had a meeting with the White Council’s representatives in an hour to discuss her father’s death.
And that will be difficult to handle, she thought, as they tapped on the door. They’ll want answers we can’t give.
The door opened. Emily was sitting upright in her bed, wearing an unflattering dressing gown. She looked... smaller somehow, her face covered with bruises that the healers hadn’t deigned to remove. Her hair looked as if it hadn’t seen a brush for days, if not weeks. Alassa’s eyes narrowed, just for a second, as they walked closer. Something was wrong, badly wrong. Was this truly Emily? Jade wouldn’t have been fooled by a doppelganger, would he? No impersonation could hope to stand up to an interrogation conducted by someone who knew the person they were trying to impersonate. There were thousands of little moments the doppelganger couldn’t – and wouldn’t – know about.
“Alassa,” Emily said. She sounded weaker too. “Thank you for coming.”
Alassa nodded, stiffly. She’d wanted Emily and Imaiqah at the coronation – she’d always envisaged having them at the coronation – but neither of them had been in any state to watch, let alone take part. In some ways, she supposed it was a good thing. Emily was, technically, the senior surviving aristocrat, with the right to crown the new monarch, but she was already seen as having far too much influence. Her absence from the ceremony could easily be taken as a sign that Alassa intended to rule alone.
Not that it matters, she told herself. There are people who can read anything into anything.
“How are you feeling?” Alassa asked, as she sat down on the bed. “Emily...”
Emily looked up. Her eyes were bleak, hopeless. “Alassa... I think I burned myself out.”
Alassa felt her mouth drop open. Did that mean...
“Since I fought your father, I haven’t been able to cast a single spell,” Emily said. Her fingers moved uselessly. “My magic is gone.”
End of Book Sixteen
Emily Will Return In:
Cursed.
Coming Soon!
Afterword
Dear Reader.
&n
bsp; It was my original intention to write The Princess in the Tower, The Broken Throne and Cursed (once I settled on a title) as close together as reasonably possible, as I’d planned for them to be linked together. However, fate intervened. I have been ill for quite some time and, finally, the doctors figured out the problem. I have an aggressive form of lymphoma, for which I am now being treated. (The chest infection that was discovered at the same time made matters a great deal worse.) The side effects have been quite unpleasant and—unfortunately—my schedule has been blown out of the water.
Emily will return, barring complete disaster. However, it may be some time before I can plot and write Cursed. I apologize for the delay.
Christopher G. Nuttall
Edinburgh, 2018
About the author
Christopher G. Nuttall was born in Edinburgh, studied in Manchester, married in Malaysia and currently living in Scotland, United Kingdom with his wife and baby son. He is the author of twenty-six novels from various publishers and over fifty self-published novels.
Current and forthcoming titles published by Twilight Times Books
Schooled in Magic YA fantasy series
Schooled in Magic — book 1
Lessons in Etiquette — book 2
A Study in Slaughter — book 3
Work Experience — book 4
The School of Hard Knocks — book 5
Love’s Labor’s Won — book 6
Trial By Fire — book 7
Wedding Hells — book 8
Infinite Regress — book 9
Past Tense — book 10
The Sergeant’s Apprentice — book 11
Fists of Justice – book 12
The Gordian Knot – book 13
Graduation Day – book 14
Alassa’s Tale – book 14.5
The Princess in the Tower – book 15
The Broken Throne – book 16
The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire military SF series
Barbarians at the Gates — book 1
The Shadow of Cincinnatus — book 2
The Barbarian Bride — book 3
Chris has also produced The Empire’s Corps series, the Outside Context Problem series and many others. He is also responsible for two fan-made Posleen novels, both set in John Ringo’s famous Posleen universe. They can both be downloaded from his site.
Website: http://www.chrishanger.net/
Blog: http://chrishanger.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristopherGNuttall
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