Capture the Crown

by Jennifer Estep

  “It’s working!” I yelled. “Keep going!”

  Grimley tucked his wings even tighter against his sides, dropping lower and going even faster, until it felt like we were falling down the mountain, rather than flying. Grimley came dangerously close to the tops of the trees, and the sticky scent of pine sap filled my nose.

  Another wild shriek rang out. A second strix and its rider were down, this time felled by a rocky ridge that jutted out at an odd angle from the landscape.

  But Milo was still right behind us, and he snapped his hand up. “Fire!” he screamed. “Shoot that bitch out of the sky!”

  The other riders steered their strixes forward and out to the sides, forming a solid line in the air with Milo and his bird. Then the riders raised their crossbows and let loose a volley of arrows.

  “Watch out!” I screamed.

  Grimley swerved from side to side to side. The Mortans’ arrows whizzed through the air like a swarm of pointed bees, but he managed to avoid them all.

  Down below, the plaza in front of the mine came into view. It was just after noon, and the miners were outside eating lunch. They looked up, along with the merchants and shoppers, all of them startled by the shrieks of the strixes and the arrows dropping from the sky.

  Grimley kept going, streaking downward like a falling star. At the last instant, right before we would have slammed into the ground, the gargoyle snapped his wings open, halting our rapid descent. Even then, he still plowed into the flagstones, his feet skidding out from under him. I gritted my teeth and held on to his wings, trying not to get thrown off.

  We ended up in front of the gargoyle fountain in the center of the plaza. Somehow, I managed to unclench my fingers from around the bases of Grimley’s wings and slide off his back. My legs were trembling, but I forced myself to crouch down beside him.

  “Grims? Are you okay?”

  “Tired . . .” He panted for breath. “So . . . tired . . .”

  The gargoyle tried to get to his feet, but he couldn’t manage it and flopped back down onto his belly.

  A shadow loomed over us, blotting out the sun. My head lifted. Milo was hovering in the air above us. He raised his hand, then brought it down.

  One by one, the strixes landed in the plaza in front of Grimley and me. Milo, Wexel, and the guards quickly dismounted, drew their swords, and advanced.

  The Mortans had finally caught up to us.

  * * *

  Grimley tried to get to his feet again to protect me, but I put my hand on his head.

  “Stay still and rest. You’ve done more than enough.”

  And he truly had. I would have been dead a dozen times over if not for his love, friendship, and loyalty. Death was coming for me anyway, and I would meet it head-on. So I got to my feet, lifted my chin, and marched forward, stopping in front of the Mortans.

  Milo and Wexel stepped up to face me, while several guards spread out behind them. Everyone else stayed frozen in place. The miners eating their lunches, their sandwiches halfway to their lips. The merchants with their hands hovering in midair, showing off their goods. The shoppers clutching the wheels of cheese, bolts of cloth, and other items they’d been admiring. None of them moved.

  “Gemma Glitzma Ripley,” Milo called out. “You’ve run out of time and space.”

  Everyone remained frozen, although shocked whispers surged through the crowd.

  “Is that Princess Gemma?”

  “No! It can’t be! Glitzma would never look like that!”

  “What are the Mortans doing here?”

  I waited until the murmurs died down before I responded to Milo’s taunt. “We’re not in Morta anymore. You’re on Andvarian soil now. Do you really want to attack me and start a war right here in front of everyone?”

  Milo glanced around, as if he was just now noticing all the other people. A bright, fanatical light burned in his eyes. “I’ve always wanted to start a war, Gemma. I’m happy to do it here. Why, there’s no better place. I’ll kill you, your people, and claim your mountain and all its tearstone for my own. Then no one will be able to stop me from implementing my plan.”

  That light burned a little brighter and hotter in his eyes. “I am the future king of Morta, and Andvari and all the other kingdoms will be mine.”

  He waved his hand, and two guards wearing gold visored helms stepped forward. One of the guards raised a crossbow to shoot an arrow at me. I reached for my magic, ready to send the projectile spinning away—hopefully, straight into Milo’s heart, if I could manage it.

  Right before that guard would have pulled the trigger, the second one surged forward, grabbed the crossbow, and smashed it into the first man’s face, making him tumble to the ground. Then that second guard spun around, pointing the crossbow at the other Mortans and backing up until they stood beside me.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Wexel yelled.

  “Helping my friend,” a muffled voice replied.

  Friend? My heart lifted.

  The second guard ripped off their helm and tossed it aside, revealing their features. Black hair, green eyes, a mischievous smile. Reiko grinned at me, as did her inner dragon, which was on her neck again. I grinned back at them.

  “You!” Wexel snarled. “How did you get here?”

  Reiko shrugged. “Gemma warned me that Maeven knew I was a spy, so I hid in the palace. Once I heard that Gemma had escaped on her gargoyle, and that you were chasing her, I stole a strix from the rookery and followed. You and your merry band of idiots never even looked to see if someone might be trailing along behind you.”

  “You win,” I said. “You are most definitely the better spy.”

  Reiko’s grin widened. “I know.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Milo snapped. “There are only two of you, and more than three dozen of us. We’ll kill you both, along with anyone else stupid enough to get in our way, and then take what we want. And do you know what the best part is, Gemma?”

  “What?”

  Another sneer twisted his face. “My mother, sister, and brother are here to witness my triumph.”

  Milo gestured to his right. I’d been so focused on him, Wexel, and the guards that I hadn’t noticed that several other strixes had landed on the refinery rooftop.

  Maeven was sitting atop one of the strixes, as was Delmira. The queen seemed as calm as ever, although the princess’s face was twisted into a worried squint. Off to their right were three guards surrounding another figure.

  Leonidas.

  The guards were clearly watching the prince, and metal gleamed around his neck, as though he was wearing a coldiron collar again, although I couldn’t be sure, given the distance between us. Leonidas was not quite a prisoner, but he obviously wasn’t free either. Neither was Lyra, judging by the angry looks she kept shooting the guards and their strixes.

  “Leo won’t be able to interfere and save you this time,” Milo said. “I don’t know why he ever bothered to help you to start with.”

  Neither did I. Or maybe I did and just didn’t want to admit the reason to myself. Or that I was thinking about trying to save him in return, despite everything that had passed between us.

  Milo raised his hand and curled his fingers into a fist. Everyone tensed. Me, Reiko, Grimley, Wexel, the Mortan guards, the miners, and other Andvarians in the plaza.

  “Time to die, Gemma.” Milo dropped his fist. “Kill them all!”

  The Mortan guards lifted their swords and charged forward, heading straight for Reiko, Grimley, and me.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  All around the plaza, people screamed and scrambled back, trying to get out of the way. I yanked my dagger out of my pocket and held my position, waiting for the Mortans to advance.

  On my right, Grimley got to his feet. The gargoyle had finally gotten his breath back, and a low, terrifying growl rumbled out of his throat, even as he pawed at the ground, his talons ripping through the flagstones.

  On my left, magic rippled through the air, and Rei
ko morphed into her other, larger, stronger form. In an instant, she grew several inches taller, and the muscles in her arms, back, and legs bulged against her stolen guard’s uniform. Razor-sharp teeth sprouted in her mouth, her green eyes grew even brighter, and her long black hair started flickering like ebony flames around her head. Her nails lengthened into long black talons, while a few hot green sparks flashed on her fingertips. Not all dragon morphs could summon up fire, although it seemed like Reiko could.

  A guard rushed at me. I waited until he was in range, then spun past him and sliced my dagger across his back. He screamed and tumbled to the ground. He tried to get up, but I punched my dagger into his back, once, twice, three times, killing him. I transferred the dagger to my left hand, then wrested the dead man’s sword out of his grip. With a weapon in both hands, I turned to face my enemies.

  Hacking, slashing, whirling, twirling. I called upon everything I had ever learned about fighting from Rhea, Serilda, and Evie, and I spun this way and that, cutting down every Mortan who came near me. Beside me, Reiko swiped out with her talons, ripping open a guard’s stomach, while Grimley lowered his head and rammed his horns into another man.

  I cut down another guard and whirled around, ready to fight a new enemy, when I spotted Milo standing about ten feet away. I tightened my grip on my weapons and charged forward. He grinned and watched me come. I screamed and raised my weapons high, determined to kill him.

  But it was a trap.

  Right before I would have shoved my sword into his gut, Milo snapped up his hand and blasted me with his lightning. I managed to dodge most of the magic, but one of the bolts clipped my shoulder and spun me around. Hot, electric pain exploded in my right arm, and I lost my grip on my stolen sword, which tumbled away across the flagstones. I snarled, but I whirled around and faced him again.

  Milo charged forward. I lashed out with my dagger, but he avoided the blow and punched me in the face. Pain exploded in my jaw, and I staggered away. Milo grabbed the front of my tunic, yanking me back toward him.

  “You’re pathetic!” he hissed. “I can’t believe that you survived the Seven Spire massacre. You’re not worthy of that ugly royal crest.”

  Milo reached down and broke the silver chain around my neck, tearing my gargoyle pendant off my chest. Then he reared his hand back and threw it away.

  “No!” I let out a choked scream.

  Desperation filled me, and my gaze locked onto the pendant as it zipped through the air. I had to get it back—

  Milo snapped up his hand and hit me square in the chest with his lightning.

  The blast of magic threw me back ten feet. I crashed into one of the merchant carts filled with bolts of cloth, lost my grip on my dagger, and fell to the ground. Part of the cart splintered under my weight, while the top of it landed against the ground at an angle, creating an odd sort of table over my head, with scarlet fabric draping over one side.

  “Gemma! Gemma!”

  Reiko and Grimley both shouted at me, but they were surrounded by Mortans, and they couldn’t come help me. They were barely keeping themselves alive.

  Milo shot off another bolt of lightning, this time targeting the gargoyle fountain in the center of the plaza. The stone figure exploded, and sharp shards of shrapnel zipped through the air and pelted the miners, merchants, and shoppers still gathered around us.

  “Kill them all!” Milo yelled. “No one escapes!”

  Chaos erupted in the plaza. People screamed and ran away, trying to escape from the charging Mortans and their slashing swords. The strixes also moved forward, hopping along the ground, lashing out with their beaks and raking their talons across the merchants’ carts, reducing the wood to kindling. Yells, cries, and shouts tore through the air, along with the strixes’ high-pitched shrieks, and the coppery stench of blood filled my nose.

  All of that was horrific enough. But without my gargoyle pendant, I couldn’t block out the thoughts and feelings of everyone around me, and they all stabbed into my mind one after another, just like the Mortans were stabbing their swords into whomever they could reach.

  Gotta run! Hide! Get away!

  Hurts so much!

  No! No! No!

  The confusing, babbling thoughts and the accompanying fear, panic, pain, terror, and dread instantly overwhelmed me. I clapped my hands over my ears to muffle the actual, audible screams and shrieks, but that didn’t stop the thoughts and feelings from pummeling my mind. Tears streamed down my face, a choked sob escaped my lips, and I rocked back and forth on the ground, still halfway under the splintered cart.

  I wasn’t seeing the plaza anymore. No, the shouts, the screams, and the stench of blood had taken me right back to the Seven Spire massacre. Suddenly, I was twelve years old again, watching the turncoat guards slaughter everyone around me.

  A miner screamed and crumpled to the ground right in front of me, a sword sticking out of his chest, but in my mind’s eye, it was Uncle Frederich, stabbed through the heart with a dagger. Another miner screamed, felled by Milo’s lightning, but to me, it was Lord Hans, burned alive by magic. More lightning clipped the shoulder of a woman running past me, so close that I could feel the electric sting, which morphed into Xenia being battered with magic as she tried to spirit me to safety.

  The sensations and the similarities went on and on and on, until I was all tangled up in my own mind, not sure what was real and what was a nightmarish memory. I drew my knees up to my chest, still rocking back and forth, and back and forth, desperately trying to find some way to steer my tiny internal ship through the massive tidal waves of fear, panic, and pain that just kept slamming into me one after another.

  “Gemma!” Reiko yelled, trying to wade through the chaos to get to me. “Gemma!”

  A guard rushed up and stabbed Reiko in the side with his sword. She screamed and spun around, raking her talons across his face. He yelped and stumbled back.

  Reiko slashed her talons across his throat, killing him, but another guard came up behind her and punched her wounded side. She snarled and staggered forward. Her boots slipped on a piece of the fountain rubble, and her legs flew out from under her. She hit the flagstones hard, her arms and legs splayed out at awkward angles.

  Reiko’s pain spiked into my mind, and the hot shock of the wound in her side stole my breath. More tears streamed down my face, but my mind kept spinning and spinning, and I struggled not to vomit as the roiling sea of thoughts and emotions kept cascading over me.

  A Mortan guard charged toward me. I watched him come with wide eyes, wondering if he was real or if this was just another awful memory. The man grinned and raised his sword high. Too late, I realized that he was real. I lifted my hand to try to fend him off, although I knew that I wouldn’t be able to manage it—

  An arrow-tipped tail slammed into the guard, knocking him away from me. Suddenly, Grimley was there, peering under the cart at me, just like Everleigh Blair had done all those years ago during the massacre.

  It’s okay, Gemma, his rough, familiar voice sounded in my mind. Breathe. Just breathe. Your magic doesn’t control you—you control it. Remember?

  The gargoyle’s low, rumbling tone cut through some of the overwhelming thoughts and emotions. I sucked in a breath and forced myself to breathe, in and out, just like he said. The steady rhythm helped to clear out some of the screaming cobwebs cloaking my mind.

  Grimley smiled, sensing that my paralysis was easing, then leaned down and licked my cheek, his rough tongue scraping across my skin—

  A bolt of purple lightning zipped through the air and hit the gargoyle, knocking him away.

  “Grims!” I yelled. “Grims!”

  He slammed into the base of the fountain, and his pain jolted all the way down my own spine. Grimley snarled and tried to get to his feet, still determined to fight, but his paws slipped, and he was too badly injured to manage it. He looked at me, his dazed eyes meeting mine.

  Run, Gemma! Save yourself!

  My head snapped back and for
th. The guards were still cutting down everyone in sight, while their strixes kept destroying the merchants’ carts. With Reiko and Grimley down, the Mortans had free reign of the plaza, with Milo standing in the center of the destruction, grinning widely as he shot bolt after bolt of lightning out at the panicked people. He wasn’t even trying to kill the miners, merchants, and shoppers. No, he was just toying with them, making them run back and forth and straight into the guards’ swords.

  Suddenly, another memory, another voice filled my mind, rising up above all the others—I should have done more. I should have fought harder.

  Alvis had said that to himself in the woods when he thought that he and Xenia were going to be killed by the turncoat guards.

  His voice vanished, replaced by Xenia’s. Fucking traitors. I’ll kill as many of them as I can . . . Maybe Gemma can live, even if Alvis and I can’t.

  The two of them hadn’t even known me before the Seven Spire massacre, but they had still risked their lives time and time again to save mine. And how was I repaying their bravery, their courage, their sacrifice? By once again being a scared little girl cowering out of sight while Reiko, Grimley, and my people fought, bled, and died.

  Well, no more—no more.

  Despite the screams and shouts still ringing through the plaza, and the louder chorus of fear, panic, and pain buzzing in my mind, I crawled out from under the remains of the cart and staggered up and onto my feet.

  Run, Gemma! Run! Grimley’s voice filled my mind again. You can escape, but you have to go right now!

  He was right. There was an opening in the madness. I could slip out of the plaza, sneak through one of the alleys, and escape. But I wasn’t going to do that. I wasn’t going to let innocent people—my people—die. Not again. Not without doing everything in my power to help them.

  No, I told the gargoyle, and myself too. I’m not running. Never again.

  Then I turned and waded deeper into the fight.

  * * *

  All around me, the audible screams and shrieks continued, along with the silent ones in my mind, creating a crashing cacophony of sound, but I shoved it all to the back of my brain. The noise, the pain, the fear and dread and stench of blood clouding the air. I ignored it all and focused on myself, on my power, on my magic.