by Erin Rhew
* * * *
After attempting to compose herself, without much success, Layla found the soldier Wil had commissioned to escort her to the dungeons. She had never seen a prison cell before and already hoped to never see one again. Though the soldier held a torch to light their way, she could barely see anything. A constant drip and the scurrying of mice made her skin crawl. When Layla tried to imagine the always immaculate Queen Sansolena down here, she couldn’t. She shivered.
“Five minutes,” the soldier barked as he looked down upon her with contempt.
“I’ll be back when I’m done talking to the queen.” Layla narrowed her eyes as she’d seen Queen Sansolena do on multiple occasions. “However long that may be.” His mouth opened to offer a rebuttal, but he closed it and stepped back to allow her free passage.
She forced one foot in front of the other, careful to touch as little as possible. The farther she went, the stronger the stench became. How long had some of these prisoners been down here, and what crimes had they committed to receive such punishment? She shuddered again. The queen did not belong in this fetid, infested hole of death.
“I see my message got to you.” Queen Sansolena still sounded soft and feminine, strange amongst such a dank backdrop. Though the king banished his wife from his sight stuck in this dreadful place, she managed to retain her regal presence.
“Yes, my queen.” Layla peered into the darkness. “Why did you ask to see me?”
Sansolena emerged from the back of the cell. Her beautiful blond hair, now dingy, hung limply at her shoulders while smudges of dirt streaked her face. Though she’d only been down there for a few hours, the queen looked ragged, like she’d been there for days.
“Tell my sons I did not know about Nash’s true paternity until Jesper evoked The King’s Right and forced my memories to come back to me.” She sighed. “Nevertheless, Jesper wants to punish me, and I understand that.”
Sansolena stepped closer to the bars. Layla could see her a little more clearly. The queen’s brown eyes narrowed, employing the same expression Layla had mimicked only moments earlier.
“Here is my life’s riddle, Layla Givens. Do I love my husband because I have to or because I want to? Would I have loved him if my father had not commanded me or if my father had not removed my love for Rex?”
“Why are you asking me this, my queen?”
“Because child, you are in the same position. I know you love my son, Nash, and he loves you. I see it on both of your faces every time you are together, but I also know you are bound to my other son. Wil is one of the kindest souls I’ve ever known, and his feelings for you have flourished.”
Layla flushed, remember the queen’s earlier threat outside Wil’s room. “Are you asking if I want you to Alter my mind?”
“I am capable of offering you that option.”
Layla backed up a few steps, unnerved by the queen’s strange grin. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to consider the odd notion. If Sansolena removed her longing for Nash, the constant ever present ache of it, Layla could love Wil. They could build a happy life together. But it would be a lie, just like the queen’s life. Eventually, the truth would force its way into the light.
Layla shook her head. “Why would you offer that? Look how it ruined your life.”
“But did it, child? I lived in ignorant bliss for twenty years. I loved only Jesper, and he loved me. We raised three children together, and we were happy.”
“The king hated Nash because he was different. You may have been happy in your Altered state, but your son suffered for it.”
“It was just a suggestion.” The queen shrugged her shoulders with her creepy fixed smile. She followed Layla’s movements like an animal stalking prey. Layla’s Vanguard instincts flared, agitated by Sansolena’s toying. “Think about it, Layla. The Ecclesiastics bound you to Wil. They are so devoted to this notion of peace they will never let you live the life you want to live. You will marry Wil regardless of how you feel about Nash. Why not let me make those years happy for you and my son? Unlike me, you have no child to worry about…unless there is something you haven’t told me.”
Layla felt the warmth of her blush go from her feet all the way to her forehead. Her previous anger vanished, replaced by pure mortification. “Of course not.”
The queen smiled at Layla’s discomfort. “Then let me Alter your mind, Layla. Be free of your burden.”
“Never.” Her anger returned in a flash, joined by bewilderment and embarrassment.
The queen laughed and clapped her hands. “Good girl.”
“What?” Layla shook her head, unable to keep up with Sansolena’s rapid mood changes. “Is this some kind of test?”
“I needed to see if you possessed a strong enough will for what lies ahead. I did not at your age, and you’re right, many people suffered for my shortcomings.” The queen’s whole demeanor changed. “I have a confession to make, Layla. I am a true believer. I always have been, but thanks to Jesper’s release, I remembered the strength of my convictions.”
Layla raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand.”
“Unlike my husband, who professes his faith only when it lines up with his ambitions, I believe fully in the First Ones, in the Prophecy, and now…in you.”
“Me?”
“I believe you are the Fulfillment.”
Layla shook her head and placed her hand over her heart to stress her sincerity. “But I’m not.”
“May I see your hand?”
With trepidation, Layla placed a trembling hand on the stinking cell door. Queen Sansolena grabbed it, pressing it between her cold palms. As with Elder Werrick, a charged wave hummed between them. Layla snatched her arm away in shock. She felt the same buzz every time she touched Nash. Werrick, the queen, Nash…what did it mean?
“What just happened?”
“It works. I knew it would. ” Sansolena breath hitched in excitement.
Had the queen lost her mind? Layla leaned in to get a better look. Could someone go crazy after just a few hours in this dungeon? When the horrid smell, with a life of its own, invaded Layla’s nostrils yet again, she believed a person could become mad quite rapidly in here.
Layla tried again. “I still don’t understand.”
“Elder Werrick insisted he felt a special spark from you, from the first moment he laid eyes upon you. That’s why he pursued you and claimed you the Fulfillment without testing. I took that information to the most learned man in all of Etherea, Volton Mars. At my urging, he combed through all available material related to the Prophecy and the Fulfillment.”
“Okay…” The pieces still didn’t match up in Layla’s mind.
“Mars found ancient texts that refer to the ‘lifeblood of the First Ones.’” Sansolena’s face lit up. In her great joy, she looked younger, like Vespa. Layla searched for the right words. Could she even breathe truth into this conversation? The queen’s fervent belief had no reasonable basis. Would Sansolena even acknowledge Layla’s assertions to the contrary?
The queen’s grip on her cell bars tightened, turning her knuckles white. “Don’t you understand, Layla? When I touched you, I felt the lifeblood of the First Ones flowing from you.”
“I don’t think that’s what you felt.”
“I know it is. You feel it too, don’t you?”
“Yes, I feel it.”
“Then how else do you explain the sensation?”
Layla gritted her teeth. While she couldn’t explain the strange responsiveness that overtook her and others in certain situations, she refused to accept Sansolena’s assertion. There had to be another, more reasonable explanation. Yet the answer eluded her now just as it had in Vanguard when she initially encountered the Elder.
“I can’t explain it, but I know I’m not the Fulfillment.”
The queen smiled. Layla wondered why her contrary answer pleased the woman. “It is believed that those directly related involved with the Prophecy—like Elder Werrick—can dete
ct the lifeblood without touching. Do you and Wil feel anything when you are together?” Her brown eyes twinkled with hope.
“No.”
“Well, how about when you touch?” The queen’s smile persisted, though her brow wrinkled with concern.
Layla ducked her head, embarrassed. “Wil and I have never touched.”
Sansolena sank back on her heels. “Oh.”
“But Nash and I have.” Layla’s confession shoved its way out before she could stop it.
“And does he feel the spark?” Layla nodded. The queen touched her chin, leaving a fresh spot of dirt there. “I would never have taken Nash for a true believer. Unless…” Sansolena trailed off, her mouth twisting to the side.
“A true believer?” Layla echoed the queen. Though she’d heard the phrase twice now, she still didn’t know the meaning.
“According to the Volton’s research, true believers—like Nash and me—can also detect the lifeblood, primarily through touch. I am glad to know Nash believes…Rex always did.”
“But King Rex did not detect anything when he reached for my hand in Vanguard.” The words slipped out of Layla’s mouth. She silently cursed herself for blurting out pertinent information yet again.
Sansolena’s face fell. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given what happened to us, but I had hoped he would maintain his ardent conviction….” She trailed off, staring into the darkness. Layla continued to worry for the queen’s sanity.
“Queen Sansolena, I don’t wish to interfere with your faith, but I am not the Fulfillment.” She needed the queen to understand, to place her faith somewhere else.
“You are, Layla, and one day you will see it. I’ve been watching you closely these past months, and I know that together you and Wil can change this world.”
Layla bit her lip to prevent herself from speaking. She held no hope of changing the queen’s mind, so set was her devotion. If only Sansolena knew how broken Layla’s relationship with Wil had just become, her steady belief might waiver then.
“Time’s up.” A guard called from above. Both women jumped in surprise. So, Layla’s attempt at intimidation had not been as successful as she’d hoped. She cast a final glance at Sansolena before heading back toward the awaiting guard.
“Take care of my sons.” The queen’s cry followed Layla even after she left the dungeon.
Chapter Nineteen
Wil
Wil picked up the books sitting on his desk and hurled them across the room. His chambers, once neat and orderly, now looked ransacked. Though he’d taken every item he could find and flung it to another place, his pain remained. He sank down against the wall, placing his head in his hands. Humiliation and anguish ate at him. Layla loved Nash.
A frantic knock drew his attention. At first he ignored it, but the pounding continued. With an angry growl, he pulled himself up and opened the door. Vespa’s handmaiden stood before him, wringing her hands and bouncing from one foot to the other. Wil frowned, a dark foreboding tugging at his soul.
He touched the woman’s arm to both still and comfort her. “What is it, Mola?”
“It’s Princess Vespa. The king has her, and he’s performing an Alteration.”
Without gathering any more information, Wil sprinted to the meeting room. He burst through the door, blind fury giving him Vanguard-like strength.
“Father!” Wil’s shout echoed throughout the room.
His heart wrenched when he saw Vespa on the floor in front of their father, a vacant look upon her face. He feared that Jesper, in his rage over their mother’s confession, had been careless with Vespa’s mind, permanently damaging it. He stumbled toward his sister, his distress interrupting his brain’s ability to process.
“Vespa.” Wil fell down on his knees in front of her. He gently placed his hands on either side of her head and guided her face to his, searching her eyes for signs of recognition. “Vespa?”
She smiled sweetly. “Wil.”
Relief flowed through him. At least she knew him. He smiled back at her to hide the fear in his heart. Vespa remembered him, but she still didn’t behave like her normal self.
“Father, what have you done?” Wil rose to face the king, his fists clenched by his side.
“I just found out that your mother has been lying to me our whole marriage, so I started wondering if anyone else in this family had been keeping secrets. Thanks to Vespa, I now have proof that you both have been.”
“Father—”
“Enough! You’ve inherited your mother’s smooth talking, and I don’t want to listen to it anymore. Since I’ve already searched your sister’s mind, I’m going to search yours next. I invoke The King’s Right over you, Wilhelm.”
Wil tensed as his father’s gaze bore into him. He tried to guard his mind, hoping to block out Jesper. Wil expected to feel the classic signs of an Alteration—the warming, the whisper light touch across the forehead as another mind forced its way in—but nothing happened. Jesper growled in frustration and tried again.
“I invoked The King’s Right.” Jesper focused hard. This time, Wil did not even bother protecting his mind. Again, nothing happened.
“Why isn’t it working?” Jesper’s face turned bright red with exertion and anger.
Wil didn’t know why the Alteration wasn’t working, but he was glad for it. His mind raged with an erratic array of thoughts, all of which he preferred to keep to himself. Some thoughts and feelings just weren’t meant to be shared.
Unafraid to challenge the powerless man before him, Wil marched up to his father. “What did you do to Vespa?”
Jesper sneered at his daughter with contempt. “I invoked The King’s Right. I forced her to tell me all the secrets she’d been hiding. So, I know about her Vanguard lover, Grant, and I know you are all helping Nash escape. I should hang you alongside your mother for that, or maybe I should hang your little Vanguard harlot.”
“You will not touch Layla!” She may have broken his heart, but Wil still cared about her and would guard her against his father’s wrath.
“I will do whatever I please, Wilhelm. I am the king.”
“Father, I know what you are feelin—”
“You could never know that.”
“I understand your heartache more than you realize, but you can’t use your bitterness as an excuse to act this way. Look at your daughter. Look what you’ve done to her.”
“I just removed all memories of that Vanguard boy. She’ll be fine in the morning.”
Bile rose in the back of Wil’s throat. Removing memories, a delicate process, required an inordinate amount of patience and care. If not done correctly…
“Did you Lock the whole year they were together, or did you dig into every individual memory to remove Grant?”
Jesper paused. “I removed the boy from individual memories.” His haughtiness faltered.
“Father, that’s the most invasive kind of Alteration.”
Wil looked over at his sister. Vespa remained on her knees, volleying between them with wide, frightened eyes. Wil went over and bent to her level.
“Vespa, do you remember Grant?”
“Who’s Grant?” Her singsong melody reminded him of their childhood.
“Do you remember meeting a Vanguard soldier near the river?”
She shook her head. “I just like walking along the river. I never met anyone there, silly Wil.”
Vespa laughed. She sounded like a little girl instead of a young woman. Fury rose up inside of him. He believed their father had damaged Vespa’s mind, and all because of his own torment? Wil found the action inexcusable.
“Wil.” Wil caught his father’s hint of remorse but offered no pardon.
“Don’t speak to me,” he spoke with a quiet fury. “You are an unfit father and an unfit king. Come on, Vespa.”
With painstaking care, he lifted his sister to her feet. She swayed and giggled. Wil felt sick with grief. The real Vespa—his sister, Grant’s love—seemed lost to him�
�to all of them.
“She’s not leaving this room and neither are you. You will answer for your insubordination, son.”
“Haven’t you done enough? She’s coming with me.” Wil shuffled Vespa toward the door.
“She’s a treacherous whore like her mother. Vespa will go on trial with Sansolena.”
“Father, you can’t do that.” Wil guided Vespa to a safe place behind him, shielding her from their father’s madness. “She barely even knows where she is thanks to you.”
“I can, and I will. You helped Nash escape. This whole situation is your fault. If you’d let me have Nash, I may have been more lenient with Vespa, but now she’ll pay for your stupidity. I hope your false brother was worth it.”
Wil drew his sword. “I will not let you take Vespa.”
“Guards!”
The king’s soldiers poured into the room. Wil settled Vespa into a corner and then swung around to meet them. He’d sparred with Nash many times growing up, and while he couldn’t spar like a Vanguard, he at least knew the basics of fighting. The first man lunged, but Wil easily avoided his charge. As his attention focused on the encroaching guards, he forgot Nash’s biggest lesson…watch your back. Before Wil had the opportunity to take out another guard, from behind someone bashed Wil over the head with a heavy object. He heard the crack just before pain exploded throughout his skull.
“I’m sorry, Vespa,” Wil managed to cry before he fell into darkness.
* * * *
Wil awoke to find Volton Mars sitting beside him. The prince’s head pounded and his vision blurred, but seeing his tutor and friend by his bedside lifted his spirits. The Volton patted various body parts, checking Wil for signs of further injury without speaking a word. Mars’ brown eyes shone bright with concern and a ferocious anger boiling just beneath the surface.
“What happened?” Wil dreaded the answer.
“From what the soldiers told me, your father knocked you over the head with a vase when you tried to prevent Vespa from going to the dungeons.”
“Vespa.” Wil struggled to sit up. Dizziness overwhelmed him, forcing him back down against the pillows.
