by Erin Rhew
Layla froze. “He believes a lie. I can’t let him sacrifice himself for a lie.”
“What lie?” Though he asked the question, he knew the answer in his heart.
She sighed. “He thinks you and I slept together. The queen must have told him, but naturally she didn’t tell him the truth. He doesn’t know it was Mia and not me.”
She fell to her knees, her face in her hands. Wil knelt down beside her. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms, but he touched her shoulder instead.
“He wanted to stay. He believes there is someone trapped inside that body with the queen.”
She removed her hands from her face and looked up at him with disbelief. “What?”
“You saw the change in Cataleen after Nash gave her the marjoram. He said there is someone named Zarina locked in that body with the queen. He believes this other person is good and wants to be separated, but he and Zarina don’t know how to do it. He wants us to go to the Voltons and find a way to free the girl.”
“Why? Why do we care?”
Wil smiled and ran a finger along her tight jaw. She relaxed into his touch. “He believes that whatever is going on within the Outlander queen will affect Vanguard and Etherea. You are the Fulfillment and half Outlander. I believe the fate of all three kingdoms matters to you. And since Nash…” He swallowed down the boulder of pain lodged in his throat. “Since Nash is also responsible for bringing this peace, I think it matters to him too.”
“So, we’re going back to Volton?”
“I am, but if you want to return to Etherea, I can visit the Voltons alone.” Wil squeezed her shoulder.
She raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m coming with you.”
He smiled and extended his hand to help her to her feet. Though they walked in companionable silence, the distance between them grew with each passing moment. He didn’t know how to remedy it or if he should even try. His future lay with Mia now, whether he liked it or not.
He loved Layla, so he needed to let her go create her own future with Nash—for her sake, for Nash’s sake, and for the sake of the three kingdoms. The thought pierced his heart, its agony sharper than Vance’s blade. He had never wanted anything more than he wanted a life with Layla.
Layla bumped her hip against his. “Congratulations.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re going to be a father. Isn’t that what people say when someone is expecting a baby?” She couldn’t disguise the pain in her voice, but she attempted to with a fake grin.
“Layla…”
Her smile wobbled. He stopped walking and, despite his earlier hesitance, drew her into his arms. She leaned into him at first but then pushed him away. Wil wanted to scream at his fate or at the First Ones for this cruel joke. The girl he loved stood just a few inches away, yet further from his reach than ever before.
“What can I do?” A storm of emotions clawed through his body, desperate to escape the cage he’d placed them in.
“Nothing. Just go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”
“I can’t leave you here alone.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m a Vanguard. I’ll be fine.”
“But—”
“Just go.”
Wil flinched as if she’d struck him. Honoring her request, he stumbled toward the camp, each step more painful than the last.
“Wil!”
He turned to find Layla rushing toward him. Without hesitation, he spread open his arms. She jumped into them. He kissed her face, her neck, her hair, every part of her that he could reach.
“I love you, Layla. I love you so much.”
She grabbed his face between her hands, smashing their lips together. “I love you, Wil.”
He traced the length of her cheek with his fingers. Beneath them, she flushed, that rosy blush he’d come to associate with her and adore about her. His gaze roamed over her face as he tried to memorize her expression, the love pouring from within her. It spilled onto him, warming even the darkest, coldest parts of his being.
He leaned in to kiss her again, but this time, his lips touched hers with a slow tenderness. Pulling her closer, he tried to meld their bodies together into one. A tear rolled down his cheek. He never wanted the moment to end because he knew it meant goodbye.
* * *
The sound of hoof beats and men shouting interrupted their moment. Layla dragged Wil to a patch of scrubby underbrush. They crouched together and peered through the gaps in the leaves. Wil’s heartbeat hammered in his ears, from the kiss or the sudden interruption, he couldn’t tell.
“It’s a Vanguard army,” Layla whispered.
“Vance?”
Layla separated the undergrowth. “First Ones, it is Vance.”
She moved her head aside and allowed Wil to view the coming army. He counted about a hundred Vanguards, with Vance, the prince who’d usurped his father and had taken the throne, at the head. “I thought he wasn’t supposed to meet with Cataleen for another few months.”
“Maybe he got impatient. Or maybe the note we intercepted about the timing of this meeting was a lie. Regardless, he’s here.”
They ducked down as low as possible to stay out of sight and bolted for camp once the Vanguards had passed.
Chapter Six
Nash
Cataleen kissed Nash’s face. His body stiffened in disgust, but he’d schooled his face to remain impassive. He’d given his family and friends time to escape. Though he’d done the right thing by them and by Zarina, he couldn’t shake the heaviness and dread infusing his body with inky blackness.
Adelia, the queen’s handmaiden and Nash’s secret ally, cleared her throat. “My queen, Vance, King of Vanguard is waiting outside the audience chamber.”
Cataleen’s jaw tightened. “He’s early. I hate the eager ones.” With a dramatic sigh, she waved her hand. “Fine, send him in.”
Thanks to a spy within the Vanguard camp, Nash had known the queen intended to meet with Vance to discuss a joint attack on Etherea. Still, the very idea gnawed at him. Such an event would threaten his kingdom, his whole family, and the Ethereal way of life. From what he knew of Vance, the boy-king’s mental state lay just north of total insanity, and Cataleen had already taken a leap off the crazy mountain a long time ago. Their combined ruthlessness would facilitate the end of Etherea. Perhaps he’d met Zarina and had stayed for this very purpose—to save his kingdom from these two deranged murderers. He smiled, confident in the First Ones and their plans.
Adelia walked to the door, whispered something into the hallway, and then turned back to face the queen. “Queen Cataleen of the Outlands, may I present King Vance of the Vanguards.”
Vance swept into the room. His father’s old cloak, a few sizes too big, billowed out behind him. As soon as his gaze landed upon Nash, Vance’s fake smile vanished. His face reddened. “You’re meeting with the Ethereals? I thought I alone had been summoned.” He spun around and started back out the door.
Nash recoiled at the sound of his half-brother’s voice, which had raised an octave.
Cataleen raised her chin. “He’s no Ethereal. He’s the future king of the Outlands.”
Vance halted. He stood still for a moment before whirling around, the flap of his cloak flying. “Is this some kind of trick? I came here to discuss partnering with you for a war against the Ethereals, and you’re about to marry their rejected prince?” He stalked forward, his green eyes full of fury and malice.
Cataleen’s guards stopped him before he reached her.
Vance’s high-pitched, insane laughter filled the hall. “I’m the Vanguard king. Do you really think your two puny soldiers are any match for me?”
Cataleen narrowed her eyes. “Guards!”
At her command, Outlander soldiers poured in from behind the curtained walls. They lined up in a circle around Vance, and each man wore the Vanguard king’s face.
Vance gaped at them, growing pale. “What…how…why?”
“Now that I have your attentio
n, shall we discuss the situation at hand?” Cataleen snapped her fingers. Servants struggled to move a long table and three chairs into the middle of the room. Motioning for Vance to take the chair across from her, she sat. He glanced around one more time before lowering himself slowly into the seat. Nash sat down beside Cataleen, his eyes trained on the Vanguard usurper.
From within her long sleeves, Cataleen withdrew a small scroll. “Only two of these exist in all of the three kingdoms and the Borderlands. I have one, and now I’m giving one to you. It’s the full Prophecy—the blueprint for the total annihilation of the Ethereal people.”
She slid the paper across the table. After a moment’s hesitation, Vance picked it up and read it.
He frowned. “This document spells out the annihilation of both the Ethereal and Vanguard people. And that’s if you can get past the Halfling and the one with unusual fortitude.”
“If you read carefully, the full Prophecy states that I will squash peace in its infancy. It does not have to signal the end of the Vanguard people. That’s your choice. When I succeed in stopping peace, which I believe I already have, then you have a choice. Join me to bring down Etherea, or die alongside your greatest enemy.”
Vance snickered. “You think your little magic show will win you a war? You must know it won’t, or you wouldn’t have come to me for help.”
Cataleen leaned in. “I’m offering you the chance to keep your throne. If you refuse, I’ll simply replace you.”
“With what? One of your face clones? My people will never follow your imposters.”
“I have something better than an imposter, Vance. I have the true king of Vanguard.”
Vance’s lips tightened into a fine, white line. “My father?”
Cataleen shook her head and laughed. “No, your brother, Nash.”
* * *
When the audience chamber door slammed shut, Cataleen rose from her chair. Outlander servants rushed in to lug the large table and plush chairs back behind the wall curtains.
Cataleen turned to Nash and burst out laughing. “Did you see his face when I told him you were his brother?”
“I don’t think he believed you.”
She smirked. “Oh, he believed me. He’s headed back to Vanguard to gather his army precisely because he believes me.”
Nash grappled with whether or not to press her for more information. If he pretended to be on her side, he’d learn more than he ever would opposing her. But if he asked too many pointed questions, she might grow suspicious, and he still didn’t understand why she’d summoned Vance in the first place. Risking her ire and mistrust, he elected to ask.
“Why are you seeking his help?”
She narrowed her eyes to small slits as she studied him. He held his breath, calculating his odds of ending up in the dungeon again to be pretty high.
“He’s already established in Vanguard. I could replace Vance by revealing your parentage, or I could have one of my men pretend to be him. But both of those options are rife with potential problems. The most expedient path is to have him lead the Vanguard army into battle and then kill him once he’s served his purpose. I intend to rule Vanguard and the Outlands as well as whatever is left of the Ethereal people once I’ve eliminated the royal family.”
“My family.” His stomach turned at the idea of this woman and Vance slaughtering his family and terrorizing Etherea.
She traced a finger along his jaw. “I’m your family now.”
Nash glanced at Adelia, who stood demurely behind her queen. Her gray eyes popped up just once, but enough for him to catch her meaning. They’d have to activate their plan sooner than they’d originally thought.
Chapter Seven
Wil
Wil and Layla raced toward camp. When they reached the group, Vespa stood on her toes and peered around them, her face expectant.
“Where’s Nash?” She dropped down off her tiptoes.
Wil sighed. “He’s not coming just yet.”
Layla picked up her extra bags. “We have bigger problems right now. Vance is headed toward the Outlander castle.”
Samson drew his sword. “Vance?”
Vespa shook her head and waved Samson away. “The queen will kill Nash. We have to go back and get him.”
Layla tossed Vespa’s bag to her and motioned for the princess to pack her horse. “Did you not hear us? Vance is here in the Outlands. We have to go.”
Wil helped his sister situate her luggage on the back of her steed. “Don’t worry about the queen. She won’t kill Nash because she wants to marry him.”
Layla whirled around. Her purple eyes blazed. “Marry him?”
Mia stepped out from behind Samson. “I think she’s always intended to marry him.”
“And you’ve known this whole time but didn’t say anything? How typical.” Vespa rolled her eyes.
“When Cataleen recruited me for this job, I overheard her talking to Elder Werrick. They believe the Outlander power will increase if the queen bears the child of a Vanguard prince.”
“Oh First Ones.” Vespa’s face drained of color. “Why did you let him stay, Wil?”
“You of all people should understand how difficult it is to get our brother to do something he doesn’t want to do. Before anyone panics, hear me out. As Iris and Jule told us, there is something very strange about the Outlander queen. There is the monster we fought, but there is also the gentler person that let us escape. Nash wants to save the other person, Zarina, and he’s asked for our help.”
Samson snorted. “Why should we help? Nash made his choice to stay with the crazy Outlander lady. We’ve got our own problems. If Vance is here, we should assume he plans to attack Etherea soon. Shouldn’t we go back there and mount a defense rather than run some pointless errand for Nash?”
Wil sighed. “Nash believes that whatever is going on inside Cataleen will affect the outcome of our war with Vance and with the peace of the three kingdoms.”
“What proof does he have of that?” Samson cocked his head, awaiting an answer.
Wil shook his head. “None, but he believes it. And I believe him. I’ll send word about Vance to my mother and Rex in Etherea, but I’m going to Volton.”
“This is ridiculous. You’re the king of Etherea, and you’re going to let someone else fight your war while you help your brother, a delusional true believer, based on his feelings? I know you Ethereals aren’t known for your strategizing, but First Ones…” Samson let out an angry bark of sarcastic laughter.
“Enough.” Layla held up her hand. “If Nash and Wil believe that helping this Zarina girl will save the three kingdoms, I’m going with Wil to find answers. Anyone who doesn’t want to participate, go back to Etherea with Samson. Anyone who wants to help, come with us.”
Despite the firm set in Layla’s jaw, Wil noticed the slight tremble of her chin. He longed to wrap her up in his arms and take away the pain she kept trapped inside, but their futures no longer intertwined. Her purple eyes blazed with fierce determination, a Vanguard through and through.
One by one, the group moved toward Wil, until Samson stood alone by his horse.
Samson chuckled, but the sound lacked his normal mirth. “I guess I’m going too then. Where are we headed?”
Wil swung up into his saddle. “To Volton Village.”
“Volton Village? They won’t help us.” Samson settled himself into his saddle. “I guess I’ll just get to be the one that says ‘I told you so’ when this whole mess blows up in your faces.” He tapped his heels against the side of his horse and galloped north.
* * *
With camp assembled and dinner complete, Wil retired to his tent. He settled back under his covers and tried not to remember that last time he’d slept here with Layla—or the person he thought to be Layla—lying in his arms. Wil remembered their goodbye kiss in the woods, the feel of her body against his, and the taste of her lips. He would hold on to that moment, and every other one they had shared, for the rest of his life
. Soon, the memories would be all he had left of her.
Someone tapped on the outside of his tent. He knew deep down that it would be Mia. He drew in a deep breath.
“Come in.”
Mia opened the flap and crawled inside. Just as she had when she’d pretended to be Layla, she placed a candle under the glass he kept by the entrance. She had shifted into her true form, with her brown hair and blue eyes. The sight both unnerved and relieved him.
She crept to the very end of his sleeping area and sat cross-legged, careful not to touch his blankets. Wil pulled himself up into a sitting position. For a long while, they stared at one another.
“I’m so sorry about your parents.”
Mia’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”
He didn’t know what to do, so he leaned forward and brushed his fingers against the top of her hand. She smiled as tears poured down her cheeks. Unsure whether or not to slide closer and breach the invisible wall she’d erected between them, Wil kept his hand on hers.
“Could you hold me, Wil?”
His heart pounded, not with romantic anticipation, but with anxiety. He wanted to be there for Mia and the baby, but his heart still belonged to Layla. His arms resisted holding anyone but Layla, and yet the girl in front him—the mother of his child—needed comfort. Though she could have sought it from Samson, who would have obliged without reservation, she’d come to Wil’s tent instead.
“Of course.”
She shuffled closer, and he placed one arm around her. They remained still and stiff until she snuggled her face into the crook of his neck. Her tears, wet and warm, splashed upon his skin. Her ragged breathing blew puffs of air against his collarbone. With a resigned spirit, Wil wrapped both arms around her. She felt different than Layla, frailer. He loosened his grip so as not to hurt her.
“I’m so sorry, Wil.”
“For what?”
A new wave of her tears soaked his shirt. “About the baby. I didn’t plan on that, I swear. I just followed the queen’s command to shift into Layla and seduce you. But Outlander women have such trouble conceiving that I never thought I’d get pregnant.”
