by Erin Rhew
Layla returned to speak to Mia through the carriage window. “There is food in the bag I left on my seat. And there is even more food in the crate attached to the top of the carriage since we don’t know how long the fighting will last. You should be comfortable here for quite some time if need be. The driver, Flen, is available to assist you should you run into any trouble. Do you need anything else?”
“No. Thank you.”
Taking one last glace at the carriage and pregnant girl inside it, Layla raced to the battlefield.
* * *
Layla caught up to Wil as he marched with the Ethereal soldiers. Vanguards and Outlanders stretched before them as far as the eye could see. She wondered if Vance even knew what headed his way—the very Outlander army he’d tried to secure. If Haddey had remained in charge, he may have succeeded. She shivered at the thought.
“Mia’s settled.”
“Thank you, Layla.”
She pointed toward the front of the line with the tip of her sword. “I’m going to join Rex and the other Vanguards up front.”
“Be careful.”
Layla lowered her eyes. “You too.”
She longed for a more poignant goodbye, should this be the last time they ever spoke. But she sprinted toward the front lines instead. Though her heart begged her to look back, to see his face one last time, she kept her eyes forward.
Samson waved her over. “How is Mia?”
“She’s settled deep in the woods.”
“I still don’t like the idea. What if Vance’s men attack the carriage?”
Layla snorted. “You can’t be serious. Vance’s men would have to travel past the entire Vanguard-Outlander group, past the trained Ethereal fighters, and past a group of the most powerful Ethereal mind controllers. I think Mia will be fine. You just make sure you don’t get yourself killed worrying about her.”
Samson nodded. “Fine. I liked it better when I was the one with all the snide remarks.”
She smiled and punched him in the shoulder. He rubbed the spot, casting her a petulant frown. After a moment, Samson grinned and landed a well-placed kick behind her knees, but he caught her before she fell. Once she righted herself, Layla reared back to punch him even harder, but Grant grabbed her hand.
“Really, you two? Save the fighting for the battlefield.”
Samson rolled his eyes. “It’s called warming up.”
“No, it’s called being scared and acting stupid, and it will get you killed.”
Samson rolled his eyes again and turned away with a dismissive huff.
“Halt!” Rex’s voice echoed throughout the forest.
The group stopped. Layla had been wondering why they had not yet encountered resistance as they made their way toward the Vanguard castle, but she now knew. Every man with Vance had fallen back to protect the Vanguard palace and the false king who ruled it.
A quick mental calculation revealed her side outnumbered his. With the combined powers of Ethereals, Vanguards, and Outlanders, Vance faced a blood bath but didn’t have the sense to know it. The usurper, sitting atop a grand black horse surrounded by his men, raised a horn to his mouth.
“Father. We meet at last.” His voice, still shrill and now amplified, sent birds squawking from their nests.
“Surrender now.” Rex’s baritone carried with no assistance.
Vance’s peals of high-pitched laugher sent a shiver down Layla’s spine. She despised the former prince. Though he appeared weak and naive, a vicious streak of cruelty ran cold through his veins. Rex had warned them of Vance’s cunning and his ability to plan every detail of a battle, so she knew better than to be fooled.
Rex rested his hand upon the hilt of his sword. “Last warning.”
“I’ll never surrender to you or the sons of your Ethereal whore!”
“Then you leave me no choice.” Rex turned to the Vanguards behind him. “Charge!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Layla
Layla raced toward the nearest Vanguard and lost herself in the clanging of metal against metal. A strange realization hit her. She just killed a member of her own nation, and she didn’t like the feeling. She knew they fought on behalf of Vance, an enemy of peace, yet the knowledge did little to assuage her guilt.
As she made her way through the crowd, Layla kept an eye on Vance. He’d dismounted and now stood amongst the melee, cutting down every Vanguard and Outlander who engaged him. She noticed Nash, wielding both a sword and battle axe, headed toward his half-brother. The scene reminded her too much of the battle in Etherea, when Wil had gone head–to-head with Vance and almost lost his life.
Inch by inch, Layla fought her way toward Nash. She’d left Wil to fight the Vanguard usurper alone, against her better judgment, but she refused to stand by this time. A black blur whizzed by her and landed on top of Nash. Layla rushed over to help him, but he waved her off.
Nash grappled with the person attacking him—Queen Montessa. “Layla, get Vance.”
“So, you’re Rex’s bastard.” Queen Montessa clawed at his face. “Let’s see just how much your Ethereal blood has weakened you.”
Nash pushed her back enough to turn to Layla. “Get Vance!”
Layla tore away from the duo, promising herself Nash could handle Queen Montessa. After all, being Rex’s son afforded him extra strength.
The fighting near Vance grew thicker as the men closed around their king. Layla kicked, twirled, and stabbed her way through the group. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, the circle had transformed. Several replicas of Vance now faced the soldiers. His men paused, their mouths open.
A shrill cry arose from the group. “I’m the real King Vance!”
The men moved toward the sound, but almost as soon as the first voice arose, a whole chorus of voices joined it. “I’m the real King Vance!”
Layla suppressed a laugh at the soldiers’ mollified faces. She bypassed any “Vance” with a yellow ribbon and headed toward the true one, who proved easy enough to spot. His blue-green eyes sparkled with rage.
Layla swiped at him, but he dodged her blow.
He sneered. “I should have killed you a long time ago.”
“You tried and failed then, just like you’ll fail now.”
Vance swung his sword, but she raised her own to block it. His strength, made stronger by his connection to Rex, exceeded her own. The image of Vance stabbing Wil rose into her mind. A fresh wave of anger erupted. Drawing on that power, Layla kicked Vance in the stomach. He staggered backward and doubled over in pain.
He quickly recovered and charged at her with his sword pointed at her chest. She deflected his strike and countered with one of her own to his right leg. The sound of their swords crashed together mingled with that of the other swords engaged in the same dance. She took a shot at his stomach; he took one at her head. They traded strike and counterstrike, neither willing to give the other an opening.
As Layla backed up, she collided with another soldier. The contact knocked her off balance. While she staggered forward, Vance’s boot connected with her chest. The kick sent her reeling. Vance loomed above her, the tip of his sword pointed at her throat. It pinched her skin every time she swallowed.
“Gotcha.”
Nash
Nash stared down the end of his sword at Queen Montessa. Though he had killed many men in his lifetime, he’d never killed a woman. But he needed to strike, or his window of opportunity would close. Then he might find himself at the end of her sword, and she would not hesitate to kill him.
To his right, Zarina materialized. With Vanguard-like finesse, she stabbed Montessa through the stomach. The former queen’s eyes popped open wide in surprised. A trail of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she slumped against the sword. When Zarina removed her weapon, Montessa fell to the ground in a heap of black material.
Nash gaped at his wife. “Zarina?”
Her fingertips fluttered along his face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. But you killed her.”
Zarina shrugged. “Of course I did. She was trying to hurt you.”
Nash kissed her, hard and fast. “I can’t believe you did that. I love you.”
“I love you too.” She winked and smacked his bottom. “Now, go help Layla.”
“Layla?”
Zarina pointed. His eyes followed. He watched in horror as Layla crashed into a soldier behind her and stumbled. With one last glance at his wife, Nash burst through every soldier in his way. They fell like dolls under his power. By the time he reached Layla, Vance had his sword pressed into her throat.
Nash slipped his weapon under Vance’s and popped it away from Layla. The false king spun around, his face a mask of rage. When Vance’s blue-green eyes landed upon Nash, they widened before narrowing into slits. Hatred oozed from his every pore.
Nash kept his eyes trained on his half-brother but spoke to Layla. “I’ve got this.”
“I’m not leaving. I won’t interfere unless you need me, but I’m not leaving.”
He remembered how much she beat herself up over leaving Wil during the battle in Etherea, so he relented. “Okay. Watch my back.”
With an angry roar, Vance charged at Nash. Their swords clashed together. Out of the corner of his eye, Nash noticed a few of Vance’s men charging, but Layla cut them down before they had the chance to interrupt.
Vance advanced, pressing Nash closer and closer to a nearby tree. Nash caught his half-brother’s sword with his battle axe and used his own sword to spin Vance’s weapon upward.
The usurper cried out as he lost his grip. His sword flew through the air. “You’re going to kill me while I’m disarmed, bastard? Why don’t you fight me man-to-man?”
“You’d have to actually be a man for that.”
Despite his taunt, Nash threw down his sword and battle axe and charged Vance. The two men hit the ground with enough force to make a small hole in the earth. Nash picked up his half-brother and hurled him into a nearby tree. Vance groaned as he slid to the ground.
As Nash ran toward him, the false king shot up. He reared back and punched Nash in the chest. Nash stumbled, clutching at his lungs as they failed to draw air.
Fury took over and restored Nash’s breath. He garnered all his strength and propelled full force straight into Vance.
When he fell to the ground, Nash fell on top of him. Nash wrapped a hand around the tyrant’s throat. The false king bucked and threw Nash. He landed hard on the ground but jumped up to prepare for another attack.
“Hey, Vance,” a high-pitched voice called.
Vance turned, an annoyed look on his face. His own doppelganger smiled back at him before driving a sword into his heart. Vance’s eyes registered his shock, then his awareness faded into the vacancy of death.
His replica shimmered for a moment to reveal a triumphant Iris. “Thank you for distracting him.”
Nash frowned. “I actually had him where I wanted him.”
“I have no doubt you could have killed him, but I wanted to be the one to do it. For the Outlands. For all the innocent people he slaughtered.”
Nash nodded. She’d done what she’d had to do as queen. And without meaning to, she’d protected his relationship with his father by sparing him from killing his half-brother. Rex barreled through a group of Outlanders surrounding Iris. He knelt beside his dead son and wept.
Iris bent down beside him and laid her hand on his shoulder. “I killed him. I’m sorry.”
Rex dropped his forehead against his dead son’s. “It had to be done.”
Layla
Layla navigated her way through the melee in hopes of locating Wil. She and Nash agreed that Vance’s death should end the fighting soon, and she’d volunteered to let Wil and the others know. As she ran, she spotted Samson locked in a battle with a Vanguard twice his size. She knew her brother would hate her interference, but she couldn’t leave him. Changing direction, she ran toward Samson. From the other side, Grant barreled toward their brother as well.
Just before she reached Samson, Vance’s soldier drove a sword into her brother’s body. From her angle, she couldn’t tell if the weapon had struck his chest, shoulder, or arm, but he fell backward.
“Samson!” Her scream penetrated even the noise of battle.
With an angry roar, Grant rammed his sword through Vance’s soldier. The man staggered before falling face first in the dirt.
Grant skidded to a halt beside Samson and shook him. “Samson.”
Layla, propelled by fear and love, drove her body forward and landed on the other side of Samson. She peered down at him. A pool of blood darkened his shirt. She covered her mouth with her hand and whispered his name.
His lips twitched twice before pulling up into a grin. His brown eyes popped open. “I find it’s effective to play dead. I’d have stabbed him in the stomach when he came to gloat over my dead body if not for the pair of you interfering with everything.”
Layla slapped him on the side of the head as relief pouring through her. “You’re a jerk, Samson. A real jerk.”
He laughed. “He just hit me in the shoulder. It’s nothing.”
“That’s not nothing,” Grant replied. “You’ll need to get Volton Mars to close it so you don’t get an infection.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Samson sat up and brushed the dirt off the front of his pants.
Layla tapped his shoulder. “Look, I have to go find Wil, but you be careful.”
“Yes, mother.” He stuck out his tongue.
Layla socked him in the arm. “Don’t you dare scare me like that again, Samson Mantar.”
He waved, a smirk on his face. “I love you too.”
Mia
“Samson!”
Mia heard Layla’s panicked cry all the way through the woods. Her body flashed hot then cold. Images of Samson cycled through her mind. His light brown eyes full of laughter, his crazy stories, his attention and affection. She clutched her chest.
Samson . He’d shown her deference and kindness like no one else had, and whenever she needed him, he had shown up to help her, no matter what. He loved her.
And she loved him too. She’d been trying so hard to work things out with Wil that she’d almost missed the chance at the true love right in front of her.
Her stomach lurched. Samson could be hurt. If he lay injured in the woods, she had to go to him. She refused to sit and wait a moment longer.
Mia peeked out the carriage window. The driver stood a few feet away, leaning against a tree, and she couldn’t see her runner, Youg, anywhere. In an instant, she morphed into an Ethereal girl with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a slender figure.
She stared down at her flat stomach and wondered what happened to the baby during a shift. She’d seen her mother shift while pregnant with her brother, Emeetry, though that did little to alleviate her concern. As if to reassure her, the baby gave a hard kick. Mia smoothed a hand over her flat stomach and smiled.
She jumped out of the carriage and ran. Behind her, leaves crunched as the driver moved, but he didn’t pursue her. She hoped he made no connection between the blonde girl darting away and the pregnant one King Wil had assigned him to guard.
She whipped her head from side to side as she searched for Samson. Given the size of the woods, she wondered how she would ever find him. She moved toward the sounds of battle, knowing Samson would be in the thick of it.
She nearly let out a startled cry when she spotted Wil standing with his mother and sister. He would be angry if he knew she’d come into the battlefield. When he glanced her way, Mia held her breath. His eyes roamed right over her without a hint of recognition. She sighed and kept moving.
She continued past the Ethereals up into the warfront with the Vanguards. Just when she thought she would never find him, Mia saw Samson lift his sword and crash it down upon the head of a Vanguard soldier. Relief flooded through her. He had a dark red bloodstain near his shoulder, but he appeared otherwise unscathed. Vance
’s man collapsed to the ground.
Mia waved her hand. “Samson.”
When he turned her direction, confusion spread across his face. Samson gave a half wave as if he didn’t even know her. She laughed and started to morph back into herself.
Just as she started to shimmer, Mia saw a Vanguard with a crossbow take aim at Samson. She stopped the shift and bolted toward him.
“Samson!”
She considered pushing him out of the way but decided she didn’t have time. Instead, she leapt in front of him as the bowman released his arrow. She heard the whizzing sound right before intense pain exploded in her chest. She cried out as Samson caught her in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wil
Wil noticed Layla marching toward him, a determined set to her jaw. Just as she reached him, Youg, the runner he’d assigned to Mia, ran up from behind. The boy panted, his eyes wild.
“She’s...she’s…go...gone, my king.” Youg fell on his knees before Wil.
He bent down and hauled the young boy back up. Waves of nausea roiled through him. “What did you say?”
Youg’s eyes shimmered with tears. “Princess Mia is gone.”
“Where? Where did she go?”
The young Ethereal boy trembled. “I don’t know. When I went to provide an update, she wasn’t in the carriage. I asked Flen if he’d seen her, and he said no. The only person he saw beside Mia was an Ethereal running through the woods.”
Wil released Youg. “I saw the same girl. Mia must have shifted.”
Layla stepped forward. “Let’s go find her.”
Wil ran over to his mother and sister. Their faces grew pale the more he talked. Vespa unsheathed a sword, but Wil shook his head. When his mother pointed at Mars, Wil shook his head again. Sansolena pursed her lips and motioned for Mars. The Volton, juggling a large medical bag, rushed over.
Wil returned to Layla with Mars by his side. “My mother thinks we should bring Mars since Mia is so close to giving birth.”
