Golden Chains

by M. Lynn

  Simon scrutinized the list in his hands and nodded before disappearing around the corner with Maiya.

  Geoff hadn’t yet woken, but he mumbled in his sleep. A perverse sense of pleasure warmed Alex as he studied the filthy form of the once guard before him. If he woke, he’d see his king and be able to tell anyone who would listen of how the king freed the prisoners.

  Alex clenched his fists at his sides. He wanted more than anything to just kill the man. Etta appeared at his side.

  She didn’t speak as she walked forward and knelt down to look into his face.

  Finally, she spoke. “You need to get out of here. He can’t see you.”

  “Or you.”

  Her shoulders slumped in disappointment as she saw the truth in his words.

  Geoff began to stir and Alex pulled her back. “A time will come for you and him. We can’t just kill him.”

  He released her and stood over the stirring cretin. With one swift kick to the head, Geoff went still. Alex bent to feel his pulse. “Good. Just knocked him out.”

  “You and I have different definitions of good.” Etta turned to leave the cell and Alex followed.

  Joining the group, he turned to Analise. “Do you need healing?”

  “No.” Her voice was frigid as she stared at him. “I just want to get my grandson out of here.” She pushed past him weakly and focused on the boy. “Henry.”

  “I’m okay, grand-mere.” He got to his feet as if he’d never been sick at all. Alex had seen Maiya’s healing enough to not be surprised by it, but there was still something otherworldly about it.

  Analise crushed him to her and Etta jumped to her feet. She went to where Simon and Maiya were helping the others.

  Alex hung back as Maiya healed those who needed it, providing much-needed strength. Etta spoke to her people in quiet tones, reassuring them. Simon stood silently by her side.

  Alex glanced at Geoff’s cell once more before moving toward the stairs. His father would be ashamed of him for choosing magic folk over those he’d call “his people.” But his father hadn’t taught him how to rule. He’d taught him how to avoid his mistakes.

  There was no possible way to silently move a crowd of this size. Alex found himself wishing for Edmund and his magic. His friend would be by his side if Alex hadn’t betrayed him as well. The power that had frightened him once would have helped them now.

  Etta met his gaze and he would’ve guessed she was thinking the same thing. “Henry,” she said.

  The boy came toward her and she regarded him, putting a hand on each shoulder.

  “I need you to be brave for me, Henry. Let your magic free.”

  His eyes, round as saucers, flicked to the king in fear. Something tightened in Alex’s chest.

  Etta shook her head. “It’s okay. Pretend he isn’t here.”

  Henry gave a bob of his head and closed his eyes. A weight settled around the group and all outside noise was snuffed out in an instant.

  “Does he share Edmund’s power?” Alex whispered.

  “No. Edmund controls the wind… to an extent. His magic is quite weak, but he can push sounds away. Henry’s is more like a cloak settling around an area, a cloak of silence. Magic is specific to each person. No two people will have identical powers.”

  She threw an arm around Henry’s shoulders and kept walking. Alex hadn’t seen her like this since she returned to the palace. A smile lit her face, replacing the intensity he knew her for. Even though they were far from safe, the tension drained from her posture as she talked to the people she’d been locked up with.

  It reminded him of when they were young and she was carefree, stealing from the market, climbing roofs, and running along the tops of the walls. He’d been mesmerized by her then and couldn’t take his eyes off her now.

  She said it was the curse, but he refused to believe in that cruel reality. Maybe he’d believed it at first, but then he’d seen Etta locked in a cell and he knew. His feelings went much deeper than a string of magic tying them together. She may not see it yet, but he wasn’t ready to give up.

  At the top of the stairs, Simon made sure the coast was clear. At the late hour, only the night guards roamed the palace grounds. Alex had made sure specific guards were on duty to avoid any unforeseen problems.

  They only had to get past the inner wall.

  Etta removed her knife and flipped it once in her hand before pulling up her hood and nodding to Alex.

  The first group began to run.

  “Remember, if we get caught helping magic folk, they’ll rise up and demand my crown,” he whispered.

  She gave him a blank stare and mimicked his tone. “Remember, if we get caught, they’ll demand my life.”

  She took off and the corner of his mouth curled up as he followed her. Out in the courtyard, the moon shone bright, lighting their path as they made it to the far wall. Footsteps sounded in the night.

  A young man in the group of free prisoners stepped forward and held out a hand. “Hold still,” he hissed.

  A guard he hadn’t assigned to the night watch walked through the courtyard and Alex held his breath, waiting to be seen. Why was he roaming the grounds? Was someone looking for him? The guard kept moving, turned, and returned to the palace.

  Alex released a breath.

  Etta leaned close. “Torrence saved our asses there, making us blend into the wall.” She pushed away from him. “How does it feel to be at the mercy of magic, King?”

  She took off again, and he followed. They wound their way through the streets and he began to recognize where she was leading them. He grabbed her arm and jerked her to a halt.

  “We can’t use your old house, guards live there now.”

  She ripped her arm from his grasp. “I’ve used it before.”

  She picked up her pace and before long, the group was standing beside the old crates that once held Viktor Basile’s chickens.

  So many of Alex’s childhood memories were attached to that house. He’d avoided it since Viktor and Persinette were run off. A long breath escaped him. She was back. Standing right next to him. But none of it was how he’d imagined it would be.

  The small two room house stood pushed up against the inner wall as if it wasn’t meant to be there. Ragged wooden walls tilted back, getting support from the stone structure behind them. Thin wooden boards has replaced the old thatched roof.

  Henry’s cloak of silence descended on them once again and people started to climb from the crates onto the roof before leaping onto the wall. It wasn’t an easy climb, and many struggled. An older gentleman was dangling from the wall when Simon stepped forward to help. The man Alex trusted more than any other guard, pulled himself onto the roof with ease. Alex watched in fascination as he did the same on a high stone wall that rose next to the roof. His eyes widened when Simon bent and grabbed the man by the back of the shirt before hauling him up. He didn’t even strain. Alex closed his eyes.

  “Of course,” he said to himself. There were even magic folk in his guard. He pushed the initial anger down. That wasn’t him anymore. Simon lifted his head and pierced Alex with a sympathetic look. Was that pity? Alex’s gut churned. Did they all pity him? The idiot king who imprisoned friends and betrayed allies. He shook his head. Now was not the time for doubt.

  Simon pulled each person over the wall before helping them climb down the roof on the other side.

  When it was Etta’s turn, she jumped with a grace he’d forgotten she had. Her fingers caught the edge of the roof and she climbed over. Before she could make a jump for the wall, a door opened and out walked a young girl.

  Alex stepped forward, his mind spinning for an explanation of their presence. Before he could give it, Etta leaned over the edge. “Hi there,” she said. “It seems like you catch me in this situation a lot.”

  The girl jutted out her chin, taking no notice of Alex. “Did you save them?”

  Etta nodded. “I’ll keep saving them.”

  “Good. You can’
t let the king destroy magic.”

  The words hit Alex with the force of a bludgeon.

  Etta winked and then kicked off the roof, landing smoothly on the wall.

  “Hey,” an angry voice yelled as a sizable man stepped out the door. “You.”

  Alex scrambled from the roof to the top of the wall. “Go,” he hissed to Etta. She disappeared down the other side as bells began to clang. “The alarm.”

  “Stop,” the guard yelled as his wife joined him.

  Alex didn’t hesitate before dropping onto the roof on the other side. He leaped to the ground and landed in a roll before popping back up. He tried to catch his breath as his eyes found Etta. “They must’ve found the empty cells.”

  “And soon they’ll know you’re missing.” She walked hurriedly away from the wall. The rest of their group had already dispersed through the town as planned. There were people in place who would help them and give them fresh clothes and supplies.

  Etta sped up and led him around the corner. “Would they believe you were just out for a midnight stroll?” She pressed herself into the shadows at the side of the building but he could still see her smirk. “You could go back to the palace as if none of this ever happened.”

  He shook his head and peered around the corner. Light spilled onto the street as the door to the tavern opened. A group of men exited, their drunken voices carrying on the night air.

  “Come on,” he said after they’d passed. “We need to find a place to hide out for the night.”

  She gave him a curious look, but he didn’t have time for explanations. When he’d decided to help the people in the dungeons, he’d made a promise to himself.

  It was time to let her go.

  Even after everything, the thought of not having her near broke something inside of him. But she was Persinette Basile. She wasn’t meant to be a prisoner and if they had any hope against La Dame, she needed to be free.

  They crossed the street, careful not to make a sound. Where was the kid with the gift of silence when you needed him? Oh, right, on the run.

  Alex shook his head. Etta led them on a winding path through the town that made up the outer castle. They passed the stables, and he saw her eyes flick to them sadly. Would Etta get to reunite with Verité when she left? He hoped so.

  He knew where she was taking them and as they neared the northern edge of the castle walls, the tower rose up over them. He smiled at the memories of the girl who’d claimed she could climb the outside of the imposing structure. The smith’s shop down below was closed up for the night, but he could still hear Persinette’s howl as she fell. She’d refused to cry, but her face showed her pain.

  Etta met his eyes as she stood in the entrance and he knew. She was remembering too.

  The tower hadn’t been in use during his lifetime and a layer of dirt covered the stone floor on the inside. The staircase spiraling toward the upper levels was crumbling and broken.

  When Alex spoke, his voice echoed through the tall chamber. “Why did you choose this place?”

  She shrugged as if the memories meant nothing to her. It was her way. Brave, fierce, uncaring Etta. Only, he’d seen the other side of her. The one who created a beautiful meadow of flowers. The girl who was kind to children and saved his brother.

  His biggest fear in this world was that he’d killed that girl. Locked her up and released her when she’d lost all that was good.

  Etta cleared her throat. “This is as good a place as any to hide. No one ever comes here.”

  He tore his eyes away from hers, unable to bear the coldness any longer. She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms underneath her cloak.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  He walked closer. “No, you’re not. You’re freezing.” He began to unfasten his cloak to add it to hers, but she stopped him.

  “I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.” Her voice lowered, and he wasn’t sure her next words were meant to be heard. “I got used to the cold in my prison.”

  He turned away from her and sat down against the wall, resting his arms on his knees and leaning his head back.

  Etta sat against the opposite wall.

  After a while, he finally spoke again. “Can’t you make a fire or something?”

  She leaned forward and drew her finger through the dirt on the ground to reveal a crack in the stone. “That’s not how magic works. My power is growth, enhancement. I could turn a twig into firewood, but making it catch fire is beyond me.”

  “The stories say the Basile’s have immense power, and that’s why only you can defeat La Dame.”

  She sighed sadly and held her open palm over the crack. Grasses began to grow through it and a hesitant smile appeared on her face. It was mesmerizing. Her face shifted, and the smile grew. “This is all I can do and I’m fine with that.” She snapped her hand shut, and the grass receded immediately. She turned blazing eyes on him. “I know what the stories say. They’ve been a weight on my shoulders since my father died and I became the heir of the curse. I can’t be the only hope. You can’t put that on me. If you do, we’re all doomed.” She crooked an eyebrow. “Unless I can get close enough to strangle her with weeds.”

  A laugh burst out of Alex. “I’d like to see that.”

  “Wouldn’t we all?”

  “Who would’ve imagined after all these years and everything that has happened, a Durand and a Basile could end up on the same side.”

  She grew quiet for a moment and hugged her knees to her chest. “I’m not going to forgive you.” She rested her chin on her arm. “If that’s what tonight was about. I’m glad you helped them, but it doesn’t change anything you’ve done.”

  She hardened his resolve to release her. As much as he wanted her, if she didn’t want him, there was no point.

  She shifted so she was lying on her side and turned away from him. “Goodnight, Alex.”

  He sighed. “Goodnight.”

  Her breath soon evened, but there’d be no sleep for him. Not when Etta was just feet away. Not when he didn’t know if she ever would be again.

  The bells from the palace still pierced the night, and he knew the panic that would’ve ensued upon finding the king missing. They’d turn over the whole palace looking for him, assuming he’d been taken by the escaped prisoners. By Etta. She’d be blamed for releasing them. And he’d be blamed for letting her betray him yet again.

  Alex’s power was slipping through his fingers. His father’s power lay in the fear his people had for him. The nobles who didn’t fear him were his greatest allies against the magic folk. When blood ran through the streets of Gaule during the purge, he’d solidified his support. No one dared to go against him.

  Alex was not his father. He couldn’t sit by and watch his people suffer just to keep his nobles happy. His father’s voice rang in his head. “The King of Gaule serves at the pleasure of his people.” He could be removed. Replaced.

  One day, they’d force him to take a side. Publicly. Not in the dark of night. There’d be no more hiding from his choices. It was easy to do the unpopular thing in the shadows.

  The ones who’d had their villages destroyed by magic folk wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t differentiate between good magic and evil.

  He pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes. Was he doing the right thing?

  A whimper sounded from Etta’s lips and a shiver wracked her slight frame. He blew a puff of temperate air onto his hands to thaw his frozen fingers and crawled across the floor to her. Her entire body shook in her sleep and blue tinged her lips.

  “Etta,” he whispered, touching her cheek. It was ice cold.

  She groaned, and he ran his hand over her long hair. Unclasping his cloak, he draped it over her as a frigid breeze blew in through the door. The chill settled in his bones.

  Making a decision she would hate him for in the morning, Alex lay next to Etta and pulled the cloak over them both. He looped his
arm over her and dragged her back to rest against him for warmth.

  He told himself they were just sharing their heat, but he couldn’t deny the way his body reacted to her. She fit perfectly with him and a sense of rightness hung in the air. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he breathed in her scent and closed his eyes.

  As he fell asleep, he couldn’t help the tightening in his chest. How was he supposed to let her go?

  “Alex,” she murmured, her lips turning up into a smile. Sleep added a softness to her words. “I missed you.”

  He kissed her cheek, and she still didn’t wake. “I don’t care if you say it’s fake or if you’ll always hate me. I love you Etta and that’ll never change.”

  She hummed in contentment and he knew that come morning, she wouldn’t remember his words at all.

  Something heavy sat across Etta’s chest as she woke on the cold stone floor. Sunlight streamed in through the door, illuminating Alex’s sleeping form next to her. She let herself relax into his hold for a moment, remembering the times before he’d found out her true identity. They’d cared about each other, but that wasn’t enough.

  Slowly, she slid out from under his arm and the cloak that was wrapped around them both. She smoothed her braid as she walked toward the door to look out. It was early enough that the smith wasn’t yet in his shop, but they didn’t have long.

  Rubbing her arms for warmth, she walked back over to Alex and nudged him with her foot. He grumbled and rolled over. She wasn’t in the mood for this.

  Narrowing her eyes, she considered him. How had they ended up curled together? It didn’t matter now. They had to go.

  “Come on, you royal ass,” she snapped, nudging him harder.

  His eyes snapped open, and he jerked up, his gaze bouncing around the room. “Have we been found?”

  “No, you idiot, but we have to go.”

  He climbed to his feet and shook out his cloak before pulling it around his shoulders. She adjusted her hood to cover her hair, and they joined the rest of the castle that was just waking up.