by Erin Rhew
Samson, his face ashen, turned and stalked into the cottage without saying a word. Layla considered going after him but decided to give her brother his space. She’d learned at a very young age to stay out of Samson’s way when he got mad.
Wil stepped forward, drawing everyone’s attention. “The queen is holding Mia’s family hostage.”
“Don’t stand up for her, Wilhelm.” Vespa’s face flushed. Her blonde tresses highlighted the pink in her cheeks.
“It’s the truth, Vespa. Everything Mia did, she did because the queen forced her to. This queen knows everything about us. She knows our strengths and our weaknesses.” He glanced at Layla. “And she knows how to exploit us. Queen Cataleen wants us in the Outlands for a reason, so we need to be prepared. We can’t go in divided, or she will destroy us.”
“Then leave Mia here.” Vespa pointed at the Outlander. “I won’t fight by her side.”
“You have to, Vespa. Like it or not, we all have to work together if we are going to free Nash and survive the queen’s trap.” Wil’s voice remained calm, but Layla detected turmoil raging just beneath the surface.
Vespa flung her hands up in the air and stomped into the woods. Wil started to follow his sister, but Grant placed a staying hand on the king’s chest and shook his head. With an apologetic smile, he ran after Vespa.
Wil
They stood in the eerie silence of their uneasy circle. Vespa and Layla glared at Mia while Samson scowled at Wil. Iris and Jule’s gazes darted everywhere but never landed on the other people gathered around. Wil shook his head. This animosity could get them all killed. He had to come up with new plan.
“We can’t go into the palace like this.” Wil straightened his shoulders and stood tall, hoping to project the confidence he wanted to inspire. “Volton Holt told us to be careful around the queen—not to underestimate her. So I think Layla, Mia, and I should go into the castle together. The rest of you subdue the guards then standby should we need you.”
Samson snickered. “Of course you want to take Mia and Layla. One girl isn’t enough for you?”
“Shut up.” Layla smacked her brother’s arm. His scowl deepened.
Vespa tucked a long, blonde tress behind her ear. “But the queen specifically asked for me in her message. Aren’t you worried she won’t let Nash go if I don’t show up with you?”
Wil forced a smile. “I can’t put all three Ethereal royals in one room with the Outlander queen. We can’t risk having her wipe out our entire line, so you have to stay with Grant and the others. But I promise I’ll get you if it’s absolutely necessary.” He untucked a strand of her hair. She frowned and wrinkled her nose as she always did when he released her captured locks. “Vespa, if something happens…” He cleared his throat. “If something happens to Nash and me, you have to take the throne and rule the Ethereal people.”
“No, Wil.”
He touched her cheek. “You can, and you will if it’s necessary.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but Samson interrupted. “Am I to understand you want me to just stand around and wait? I’m a fighter. I fight. It’s what I do. I’m a Vanguard, for First One’s sake.”
Wil sighed. “No, I’m trusting you to protect and defend the princess of Etherea. If something happens to me in that castle, you’ll be in charge of the Ethereal queen. But don’t worry; I have a feeling you’ll get your fight one way or another.”
Mia stepped forward, her eyes downcast. She placed several marjoram leaves in her mouth. “I’d like to say something.”
Vespa’s lip curled. “Haven’t you done and said enough?”
Wil shot his sister an exasperated look. As much as he hated what Mia had done, he understood her reasons. He refused to continue to punish her for it, and he wouldn’t allow the others to do it either. With one look at Mia, anyone could see how much she continued to punish herself.
“I’m sorry for everything.” Her voice broke. “I don’t blame you for hating me. But know this: no one wants Cataleen dead more than I do.” She took a deep breath. “I know you don’t trust me, but I’d like to take steps to make amends.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” Vespa crossed her arms over her chest.
“Vespa.” Wil cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brows. His sister gave him a withering look but kept quiet.
Mia swallowed hard. She must know how much hostility everyone held toward her, yet she still put herself out there. A small bit of Wil’s pent-up anger seeped out, which caused his heart to soften a bit toward her.
“My real name is Reina. All you have to do is call me that, and I’ll have no choice but to turn back into my true self. I won’t be able to trick any of you again.”
She peered at Wil from beneath her inky black hair. He nodded, hoping to encourage her despite the icy reception her confession had received. As a smile of reassurance crept onto his lips, her words echoed inside his mind— I love you, Wil. I never wanted to hurt you . He grimaced.
Confusion ghosted Mia’s face for moment, but she held her head high as tears shimmered in her eyes.
“Reina?” Samson repeated, as if trying the name out on his tongue.
Mia’s form wobbled, and then became clear and solidified. Though Wil had seen Mia’s true appearance once before, he had yet to reconcile the old and new Mias in his mind. He rubbed his eyes as a collective gasp rose from the rest of the group.
“You don’t even have black hair and purple eyes?” Vespa threw her hands up. Grant rubbed the small of her back, but her exasperated expression remained.
Samson’s mouth gaped though Jule and Iris appeared unaffected by Mia’s transformation. Wil watched Layla absorb this information. As her gaze roamed over Mia’s reddish-brown hair and blue eyes, her eyes lit with realization. He already knew only Layla could fulfill the Prophecy—his own heart told him so. Only she could capture the hearts of both Ethereal princes. Only she possessed the strength, both inside and out, to lead two kingdoms into peace after centuries of war. Even before Mia revealed her true form, Wil had known.
He rejoiced that Layla would be able to carry out her mission of peace, as ordained by the First Ones, but he mourned that their paths no longer intertwined. Based on the Outlander Prophecy, the First Ones meant for Nash to walk beside her, not him. Wil smiled at her, trying to ignore the throbbing in his chest. Layla sent him a half-grin in return.
A myriad of emotions played across her face. He longed to hold her in his arms as they puzzled out the meaning of it all—prophecies, peace, shape shifters, destiny. His arms remembered the feel of her, how her small but muscular shape molded into him. He willed his arms to release the phantom feeling as he reminded himself that he may never hold her again. But it didn’t stop the longing.
A voice dragged him back to the moment. He could reminisce and mourn his heartbreak later. Mia, with her hands clasped in front of her, told the rest of the group the story she had shared earlier with Wil.
“Elder Werrick.” Layla recoiled as she spat out the man’s name. “I should have known he was involved.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Samson tapped the hilt of his sword.
“Remember the plan,” Wil emphasized. “Cataleen will try to exploit our weaknesses. Don’t let her. We have to work together, or we’re all at risk.”
His gaze fell upon Layla once more. Before embarking on an uncertain future, he drew resolve from her. Her strength and goodness helped him believe in a world where peace reigned. She emboldened him to fight for a better future, with a passion that duty alone could never inspire. Without another word, he cleared his face of all emotion, slid into his saddle, and rode off to face an unseen enemy.
Chapter Four
Layla
Layla marveled at the castle in front of her. The Vanguards favored gray buildings and the Ethereals white, but the Outlanders’ palace reflected their own unique power. Tinted glass and jewels glistened from every angle of the structure. Purples, pinks, blues, an
d greens shimmered and danced in the sunlight. Beside her, Wil gaped, slack-jawed.
For a moment, Layla had trouble believing such wickedness resided behind those walls, but then she recalled Volton Holt’s warning—her father’s warning. Remember, you never have the upper hand on the Outlander queen, even when you think you do . Everything here sought to mislead, just like the Outlander power. The beautiful outside masked the heinous crimes Queen Cataleen, and all the queens before her, had committed inside.
Layla took a deep breath, grounding herself. Somewhere within that sparkling masterpiece, Nash awaited. She longed to see his face again, especially after all that had happened.
“Are you ready?” Wil brushed his fingers against her hand.
“Ready as I’ll ever be to meet someone who wants me dead.”
They dismounted, tied up their horses, and approached the glass castle. Mia and Layla stuffed a few marjoram leaves into their pockets but did not eat any. They needed the queen to see them. Blinding Cataleen to their presence now would only raise her suspicions.
To her surprise, no guards blocked their passage as they entered the castle walls. Only silence greeted them, adding an ominous air to the whole place. Layla moved closer to Wil, determined to protect Etherea’s king should anyone leap out to attack them.
A young woman approached with her hands open and outstretched. “Welcome.”
Wil placed a protective arm in front of Layla and paused. His free hand twitched near his sword. “Who are you?”
“I am Adelia, queen Cataleen’s personal handmaiden. Please follow me this way. The queen is expecting you.”
Fear and Vanguard fury warred for first position within Layla. She scanned Wil’s face. If a battle raged inside him, she couldn’t see it. He squeezed her hand, and the tightly wound coil within her loosened.
Ahead of them, Adelia’s bright red braid swung like a pendulum as she clicked down the hall, the staccato rap of her heels reverberating off the walls like ice pellets on a tin roof. She flung open a set of wooden doors lined with intricate carvings, to reveal an audience chamber. The magnificent floor-to-ceiling glass wall at the back of the room captured Layla’s immediate attention. Curtains lined the walls in a bizarre yet pleasing amalgamation of color. Layla’s gaze darted around. The gaudy display enraptured her.
“Focus on your mission. Don’t let this room distract you. It’s what she wants.” Mia’s whisper-soft voice yanked Layla’s thoughts back into place.
Layla cursed. If the queen hoped to distract them with her flashy receiving room, she’d succeeded. The many warnings she’d received from Iris, Jule, and Volton Holt bombarded her mind, compounding this first failure. She resolved to do better, to be stronger.
“There’s Nash.” Wil pointed to the elevated stage.
Layla bit back her gasp. Fury and relief coursed through her body. Nash stood beside an auburn-haired woman with chains binding his neck, wrists, and ankles. Aside from claw marks on his chest, she detected no other signs of injury.
Wil leaned in. “Why won’t Nash look at us? Something’s wrong.”
“Everyone who is anyone is here.” Mia’s agitated whisper heightened Layla’s alertness. “The guards, the servants, the queen’s court, everyone. Something big is going to happen.”
Mia’s panic fanned out like a swarm of insects, crawling all over Layla’s skin, attempting to infuse her system with the same frenzy. Layla steeled herself against the onslaught. Practiced, measured breaths stilled her. She narrowed her eyes as the woman beside Nash stepped forward.
“Welcome, Layla, Wil, and Mia. We’ve been waiting for you. I am Queen Cataleen.” She raised her slender arms in a welcoming gesture.
“We’ve traveled a great distance to meet you.” Wil’s voice carried, strong and sure, throughout the glass-lined room. Layla fought the urge to roll her eyes at his diplomacy and formality. She might have preferred to ram a sword down the smiling queen’s throat but recognized the wisdom of his actions.
“I see you have, King Wilhelm.” The queen glanced toward the doorway behind them. “But where is Princess Vespa? My message requested her presence at this meeting.”
“Regretfully, my sister could not attend.”
Cataleen raised an eyebrow. The fake, pleasant smile melted off her face, replaced by a hideous grimace. “Let’s drop the politeness, shall we? I asked for you, your sister, and Layla. I get very angry when I don’t get what I want. Just ask your brother.”
“My sister was detained with royal affairs. She does, however, send her regards.”
The queen frowned. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She flicked her wrist at a servant. The man scurried over to one of the multicolored curtains and pulled it back to reveal another set of windows. Outside, a man, woman, and teenage boy stood on a pile of wood, each bound to a tall pyre.
Large eyes protruded from narrow faces. Their shoulder bones jutted out of their loose-hanging shirts. Their restrained arms and legs more closely resembled sticks than meaty flesh. Layla had joked about being hungry, but she’d never actually seen a starving person until now.
Wil clamped a hand over his mouth. “Oh, First Ones, this queen is a monster!”
“No!” Mia ran toward the window. She fled past Cataleen and her servants, who made no motion to stop her, and fell on her knees before the window. As she placed a hand on the glass, heart-wrenching sobs emanated from her tiny frame.
Wil stepped closer to the stage, his fists clenched. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I gave Mia specific instructions, which she chose not to follow.” Cataleen ignored the blubbering girl. “She was to attract your attention, Wilhelm, but failed to do so. Like Nash, you seem solely focused on one girl.” The queen lifted her chin and sneered down at Layla.
Wil shook his head. “You can’t punish Mia for that. She did the best she could.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I can do whatever I please, and I will.” With another flick of Cataleen’s wrist, the servants touched torches to the base of the wood beneath Mia’s family. Their sunken eyes grew wide with fear as flames consumed the timbers and licked at their feet.
Layla ran forward, rational thought fleeing as her Vanguard energy surged. She kicked the window with her full force. It bowed but did not break.
“This glass was built to withstand the strength of a Vanguard.” Cataleen’s taunt further strengthened Layla’s resolve.
She smashed her foot into the window again. A tiny crack appeared, but the glass did not yield. She pounded the weak spot over and over. Frustration mingled with fury. A roar bubbled up her throat, clawing to be free of its bodily confines, but Layla swallowed it down.
Mia’s father, mother, and brother released terrified wails as cloth and skin turned to ash. Layla’s stomach roiled. Wil appeared at her side and kicked the glass with her. Their combined efforts bowed the crack, yet it refused to shatter. Outside, the prisoners’ wails crescendoed as the inferno stole their lives like a predator claiming its kill.
“No! No! No!” Mia beat her tiny fists against the window to no avail. She screamed until her voice cracked. Just before the flames consumed her, Mia’s mother mouthed “I love you.” Then she disappeared behind a pillar of fire.
Mia flung herself into the glass, a vein attempt to break it open. “Mama! Mama!”
Wil and Layla kicked harder. Mia’s desperation fueled their own. When the last of her family stopped screaming and silence, save for the crackling of flames, returned, she curled into a ball. The room filled with the low, raw song of her mourning.
Layla placed a hand on Mia’s back, but the Outlander shoved it off. Instead, Mia stood and fell into Wil’s arms. He wrapped her up.
She buried her face in his neck. “I couldn’t save them.”
“I know. I know.” Wil rubbed her hair. “That woman is a monster. She wanted them dead and probably planned it along. There was nothing you could have done.”
“I can kill her.”
> Layla drew her sword, stalking toward the queen. Wil drew his too and followed. Just before Layla reached the stage, the tip of a knife pressed against her throat. She knew better than to struggle. One of the queen’s guards thrust Wil forward, a knife to his neck as well.
Beside Cataleen, Nash remained motionless. He made no move to help them. Perplexed, Layla sent him a silent plea, willing him to look at her, to help her. But he didn’t respond. Blood roared in her ears as a realization dawned. The queen must have done something to him.
Despite all the action, Cataleen’s impassive expression never wavered. “Now, now. No need to go getting violent. We’re just talking here.”
“We’re talking. You’re killing people.” The knife cut against Layla’s skin. A small trickle of blood oozed down her throat. Despite every instinct screaming at her to fight, she relaxed against the guard to make space between the weapon and her neck.
Cataleen laughed, the sound a cold, harsh bite. “Let Mia’s family serve as an example of what happens to those who oppose me.”
Layla hated what Mia had done to Wil, but she hated what the queen had done to Mia even more. Cataleen had never intended to let Mia’s family live. Everything the Outlander girl had done had been for naught. Layla clenched and unclenched her fists as visions of knocking the sardonic smile off the queen’s face flashed through her mind.
“Collect her,” Cataleen pointed to Mia, “and let them go.”
Once released, Layla rubbed the spot where the knife had been. She glanced at the blood staining her fingers. Every nerve in her body demanded she attack. She kept her eyes fixed on the queen but scanned the room with her peripheral vision to gauge her tactical advantage.
The queen’s handmaiden, Adelia, hustled a stumbling Mia over to Wil and deposited her into his arms. He held her, murmuring nonsensical assurances while he stroked her hair. She buried her face in his chest. Layla felt a pang of jealousy, but she forced herself to dismiss it.
“Now that I have your attention…” Cataleen smiled that fake smile Layla longed to knock off her face, “…let me tell you why you’re really here. I hold the complete Prophecy in my possession. After researching its origins and spying on your kingdoms, I have come to the conclusion that Nash and Layla could potentially fulfill the Prophecy together.”
