by M. Lynn
Etta collapsed onto her side. “It’s the truth and the truth should always be spoken.”
“But it’s not the truth.” Edmund shot daggers at Maiya.
She started to protest, but a crash sounded behind her as Tyson fell from his horse.
“Looks like you aren’t the only one who can’t handle their magic.” Matteo checked Tyson’s pulse. “He’ll be okay. You both lack stamina.”
“Stamina?” Edmund asked.
Matteo put his head in his hands and groaned. “Have any of you been trained in magic?”
Once again, the thought of her father leaving her so ill-prepared stabbed at Etta.
Matteo studied each of them in turn. “I’m the only one here without magic and the only one who knows anything about it. How’s that for irony?”
“Stop being a dick and tell us,” Edmund growled.
Matteo leveled him with a glare. “Magic is not an infinite source. Like physical prowess, it must be trained. The more you practice, the more you will be able to use it.”
Etta half-listened because something rose up among the dense trees below. She raised a hand to shield her eyes and look closer. A stone tower stood as tall as the trees surrounding it. Spikes lined the top of it and a single open window was cut into the face.
Her heart squeezed, the curse pulling tighter.
All talk ceased behind her. Maiya was on the ground pouring her healing power into Tyson. He woke slowly and Maiya moved to grip Etta’s hand. Strength flowed into her and for a moment, she forgot the mysterious tower.
Until Tyson got to his feet and followed her line of sight. His eyes lit up and she knew. Alex was near.
“We have to go to him.” She turned back to focus on the stone prison.
Tyson’s voice was cautious. “Etta, that tower doesn’t even have stairs. We can’t just show up and get him out.”
“Alex is there?” Edmund’s voice held every ounce of hope she now felt. “What are we waiting for?” He swung up onto his horse and took off.
Matteo grimaced. “I guess we’re doing this with a death wish instead of a plan?”
“No one is asking you to come.” Etta climbed onto Verité and went after Edmund. Alex was right there, so close, and she wouldn’t let them waste another moment.
The sun was high in the sky by the time they reached the base of the tower. Still hidden in the trees, they trotted in a wide circle to scout the surrounding areas.
“You think La Dame is here?” Edmund asked.
Etta scanned the area around them. “We’d see some sign.”
“There aren’t any guards.”
“Edmund, there isn’t even a door, why would she need guards?”
Her heart pounded as she slid from Verité. Edmund stopped next to her and gripped her shoulder.
Every day had been leading to this moment.
Every shock of pain the curse sent through her held purpose.
It was all meant to bring her to Alex. He was more than her charge, more than the king she was cursed to protect.
He was everything.
And she’d found him.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. The pounding of hooves echoed among the stillness in her heart as Matteo, Tyson, and Maiya appeared. She didn’t wait for them.
The risk no longer mattered. It was in that moment she realized, she’d sacrifice everything for the man in the tower.
She reached the base and lifted her eyes.
Edmund nodded as he prepared to use his magic to push her voice into the tower and she spoke. “Alex. Are you up there?”
For a few torturous moments, all she heard was the thundering of her own heart.
Chapter Seventeen
Alex. Are you up there? Alex. Alex. Alex.
The sound of his own name ricocheted through his aching head as he lay in bed. All morning, he’d felt an exhaustion unlike anything he’d experienced before. It had faded away, but he still couldn’t bring himself to rise.
Etta had been hurt this morning. Hurt and then healed. He was sure of it. That was what caused his current state. She was out there and there was nothing he could do to protect her.
Etta. Etta?
His time of imprisonment was beginning to scatter his brain. No. He didn’t hear Etta’s voice. His mind was playing tricks, giving him what he wanted most.
Alex.
He covered his ears and shook his head violently. Was La Dame playing a cruel joke? She was nothing but cruel. But he would not give in. He would not give her the satisfaction of breaking him. She seemed to take pleasure in his love for Etta. It gave her power.
“No,” he grumbled, stumbling from the bed. He lurched toward the chamber pot and lifted it. If La Dame was on the ground taunting him, he’d get back at her. It was petty and childish, but it was all he could do. He carried the pot to the window and prepared to turn it on an unsuspecting sorcerer as she created the stairs she’d climb to torment him.
It slipped from his grasp when he looked to the ground, hitting the edge of the window on its way out. Urine flew through the air, but all he could do was stare at the two people scrambling back away from the falling waste.
Edmund grinned up at him once the pot landed with a thud. The other person had their hood up, but there was no mistaking the set of her shoulders or short movements of her gait. He sucked in a breath.
They were here.
“Etta.” His voice was too quiet the first time he spoke so he cleared his throat. “Etta.”
She snapped her head back to peer up at him, her hood slipping from short golden hair. His fierce protector looked even more dangerous than before.
She turned away from him to say something to Edmund and Tyson appeared at the tree line. Alex leaned against the side of the window. His brother was safe.
But he was here.
Panic clawed at him. They had to go. La Dame could return at any moment. Before he got another word out, Etta had placed her palms on the stone. He watched in amazement as vines slithered up the tower, crossing and wrapping around the structure. He touched one as it whipped past the window.
Glancing down at Etta, he shook his head. Edmund tried to hold her back, but she pushed him away and started to climb. Her sword was strapped across her back and gleamed in the sun as she ascended the vines she’d created, showing no fear.
The moment she reached him, he grabbed her arm and pulled her in through the window before crushing her to him. His pulse hammered in his ears as she pressed her face into his chest.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered into her hair.
She shook her head. “I had no choice.”
“Because of the curse.” He nodded in understanding.
She pushed away from him. “Because…” Her voice wavered, and she turned away to hide her face. When she faced him once again, her look broke him in two. “Because I haven’t fought for you. I’ve lied to you and hated you. I’ve protected you and loved you. But I didn’t fight. When you imprisoned me, I let you despise me. When you wanted to let me go, I said the reason I couldn’t was the curse.” She stepped forward and fisted his shirt. “I know you won’t agree, but I need to fight. For you. For me. For us. It’s probably going to kill me, but how could I live knowing I didn’t fight?”
When she lifted her face once more, he claimed her lips with his. Possessing. Demanding. Hello. Thank you. I’m scared.
I love you.
She deepened the kiss with a moan low in her throat and he wanted nothing more than for it to last forever.
His mind finally caught up. His Etta had come. As scared as he was for her, he loved her all the more for it.
“I’m going to tear it all down.” Her voice vibrated against his lips. “If I’m going down, I’ll take her with me.”
The tower shook and Alex broke away with a frantic look to the window. “She’s here.”
“Etta!” Edmund’s voice was cut off abruptly.
La Dame’s steps were slow, each sl
ap of her shoes against the stairs, sending a jolt through them.
There was nowhere to hide. She knew Etta was there.
“I love you,” Alex breathed, tightening his grip on her.
A tear shone in the corner of her eye. “I never thought I’d love you.”
“Etta, there’s something you need to know. Maiya–”
He suddenly couldn’t speak as La Dame’s magic stole his words. He pulled Etta to his side as he tried once again to speak. To tell Etta she had a traitor in her midst. La Dame climbed through the window and righted herself. A bright smile stretched across her deceptively beautiful face.
“Persinette,” she said pleasantly.
Etta shook beside him as she straightened her spine.
“La Dame.” Her voice was cold, strong.
La Dame stepped forward. “It is a pleasure meeting someone I feel such a connection to.”
Etta cocked her head. “Is connection another term for curse?”
“Ah, but it isn’t a curse for you at all, is it, my dear?” She walked forward and patted Alex’s cheek. “He’s such a handsome boy. I can see why you’d forsake your family’s long enmity for his family.”
Alex flinched away from her.
La Dame lowered her hand and quirked her lip. “I’m in the mood to make a deal.”
“I’m listening.” Etta grit her teeth.
“A trade. You take your young king’s place and I will release him. Simple as that.”
“No,” Alex tried to cry.
Etta stepped away from him. “Done.”
Alex shot her a pleading look.
La Dame laughed. “I’m afraid you don’t know the Basiles, Alexandre. I wouldn’t try to tell her what to do.”
Etta advanced on La Dame. “You destroyed my family. What are you waiting for? Kill me. As long as Alex is released.”
“Your love for him is endearing, but I’m afraid today is not the day we make the trade. I throw balls for my townsfolk every night. You will be there two nights hence. Only then will you save your precious prince. Until then, we have no need of you.”
La Dame shot a blast of power toward Etta before Alex could shove her out of the way. Her arms flung out to the sides as she sailed backward through the window, a scream dead on her lips.
Alex ran to the window as her lifeless body crashed toward the ground. “Etta,” he called, his words finally breaking free as he collapsed against the sill.
Helplessness settled over him as he could do nothing but watch the woman he loved falling. The impact sent a shock through his system and he fell back, gasping for breath as if every bone in his body broke. Pain spread out from one localized spot in his abdomen. He didn’t hear his own scream as everything faded away.
Voices surrounded Etta, but she couldn’t make them out through the heavy hammer crashing inside of her skull. Each word spoken sent another sharp pain against her temple.
A groan worked its way up to escape her lips. “Stop,” she murmured.
They didn’t hear her.
“Stop talking so loudly.”
The voices ceased abruptly, and she opened her heavy eyelids. Dark curls swam before her as Maiya leaned over.
“Etta.” She placed her hands on Etta’s head and the pulse of her magic sent the pain on its way. “I’m glad you’re awake.”
Darkness covered the room they were in and her friends stood out like shadows in the night.
“What happened?” She pushed herself up on her elbows.
“That woman pushed you from the tower,” Edmund growled.
It all came back to her. The tower. Alex. Her eyes snapped to Edmund, but he shook his head. Alex was still a prisoner.
Leaning back, she breathed heavily. She’d failed him. For a moment, she’d gotten lost in his arms and she’d let her guard down. How was she supposed to save Alex now?
“I’ve been out all afternoon?” A candle burned nearby illuminating the bare wooden walls and dirt floor. A stack of crates stood in the corner. Where were they?
Tyson sat down beside her. “You’ve been unconscious for a night and a day, even after Maiya healed you.”
Alarm bells rang in her head. “We have one day until the ball.”
When they regarded her quizzically, she explained everything that transpired in the tower. Finding Alex. Their invitation.
Tyson shot Matteo a look and her cousin sighed. “She holds these balls every night. She enjoys the show of fidelity from the villagers and it solidifies her power in Bela.”
“Villagers?” Etta tried to climb to her feet, but Maiya put a hand on her arm. “There isn’t a village in Bela.”
“There is now.” Edmund glanced toward the door. “People have been disappearing from Gaule in droves and this is where they’ve ended up.”
“None of this makes any sense.” Etta shrugged Maiya away and climbed to her feet.
Matteo followed her. “The first thing you need to understand about La Dame is you may never have answers to your questions. Her reasons are never known. Her magic is infinite.”
Etta stopped when she stepped outside. A village sat before her, not unlike the one near the palace of Gaule. Darkness covered the street, but the cobblestones beneath her feet were plain. Wooden, flat-roofed buildings stretched out on each side of her, each one connected to the next. Wind blew her sticky hair from her forehead as her mind tried to grasp the truths before her. She’d thought it was all gone. Her kingdom. But here it was, come to life again.
A door opened nearby, spilling candlelight onto the street. Boisterous voices poured out until they were abruptly cut off by the closing door. A tavern. Those people sounded… happy? Did they know they were controlled by La Dame?
Edmund stepped up beside her and bumped her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“How is any of this here?”
“Tyson and I came through here soon after leaving Gaule and it was nothing but overgrown forests and the ruins of a castle.”
“You mean this is magic?” She sucked in a breath. None of this should be real. Her heart thundered in her ears. La Dame was more powerful than she’d imagined.
He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side as if reading her mind. “This doesn’t mean we can’t beat her.”
Etta dropped her head onto his shoulder. “I had him, Edmund. He was in my arms.”
“We still have a chance.”
She didn’t tell him how much she doubted his words. It wouldn’t do any good. Whether they had a chance or not, they weren’t going to quit.
“Where’s Verité?”
Edmund grinned. “You and that blasted horse.”
“Tell me.”
“He’s fine. When La Dame showed up, she shot out a blast of magic that sent us flying toward the woods. With the exception of Maiya, we were all knocked unconscious. But the horses were out of her range of power, hidden back in the trees. They’re in the village stables.”
Something about his story didn’t sit right with her. She glanced behind her but the others were lost in discussion.
Leaning closer to Edmund, she dropped her voice. “If you were all knocked out, why wasn’t Maiya?”
“She said she was near the horses.”
Etta ran a hand through her hair, a nervous habit from having long hair most of her life. “She wasn’t. I saw her from the window. She was right behind you.”
Blonde brows drew up over clear blue eyes.
“How did you find the village?” she asked. “Was it Matteo?”
“No.” He frowned. “Matteo was as surprised as us. He said he knew the people coming to the balls had to live somewhere, but he hadn’t been allowed outside the palace until his escape.” He scratched the back of his neck and met her gaze. “Maiya chose our road. You were draped across my saddle and the only thing I could think of was how her healing couldn’t wake you. Matteo and Tyson had grown quiet. She rode at the front and none of us questioned her direction. When we came upon the villa
ge, she acted as if it were a shock to her as well.”
“We can’t—”
They were interrupted by the appearance of the girl in question.
She smiled shyly. “Are you two going to stand out here all night? You’ll freeze.”
Etta opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t know what to say to the girl. Maiya, the first friend Etta had ever made, was a traitor. The burn of betrayal caught the words in her throat. What about Pierre? Her father’s closest friend. Had it all been orchestrated from the beginning?
Etta brushed past her into the room and took up residence in the far corner. Drawing her hood and pulling her knees to her chest, she rested her chin on her arm and held back the angry tears. La Dame owned her. She’d owned her father. Everything was controlled by the woman who wanted nothing more than to destroy her family.
Maiya and Pierre proved she could reach them even in the warded Gaule. La Dame could enter any part of her life and now she sat with a traitor a few feet away. The wide, innocent eyes were a trick.
Edmund positioned himself near Maiya, watching her every move.
It was only when he spoke that Etta realized Matteo was next to her. “Did you know I’m a few weeks younger than you?”
Weeks? That meant… she scrubbed at her face. Too much information. Maiya’s betrayal and now Matteo. She’d come so close to avoiding the fate of the Basiles. If she’d been born only a few weeks later – after Matteo – the curse would have fallen to him instead of her.
When she didn’t respond, he continued. “I waited to take up the curse for my entire life. My father didn’t know about you. He didn’t even tell me about his brother. But La Dame knew. I’ve been in her household since I was a child, but you know why she didn’t tell me? Control. As long as I believed her curse would be my life, I was beholden to her.”
“I’m not beholden to her,” Etta snapped.
“As long as you need something from her, that’s exactly what you are. It’s why she’s doing this. We are not her enemies. To be such, would give us a power in her mind she refuses. No, we are merely her playthings. It’s why she kept me and my father instead of killing us. In her eyes, death is too easy.”
