The Glass Queen

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The Glass Queen Page 23

by Gena Showalter


  Had I detected a note of smugness? Did she think no one in their right mind would choose me if she was an option? Was she evil, after all?

  Or maybe I’d heard what I’d expected to hear, due to past experience.

  I closed my eyes for a moment and nodded. Yes. I’d let the rejection of others color my perception of the moment. Dior was being genuinely kind to me, and I was being petty. Even now she watched me with hope and eagerness, as if she feared her response wasn’t good enough. And really, I wanted Saxon happy. He deserved to live the life Leonora had denied him.

  And maybe I did, too? I would forever feel guilt for what happened to my mother, but in the bright light of day, I couldn’t blame myself as ferociously as before. I’d been a child, ignorant of what was happening to me. I’d had no real defenses other than the barrier, and it had failed me.

  I shouldn’t have to carry guilt for my mother’s death. Leonora was to blame.

  If Saxon knew the truth about my possession, he might kill me to kill the phantom. Would she die with me, though, or would she live on?

  I didn’t want her free, able to hurt others. I didn’t want her suppressed, just biding her time; I wanted her dead. She’d told me I couldn’t survive without her. But the evil stepmother couldn’t be trusted. She never had Cinder’s well-being in mind.

  The crowd gave a collective gasp, and I whipped my attention to the fight. The vampire had clawed the fae’s chest directly over his heart. The fae had a weapon, too. A dagger. But like Saxon, he hadn’t used it. Hadn’t even unsheathed it. Why, why, why? There was no reason good enough.

  Saxon shot up, up into the air, his fingers tangled in the gorgon’s hair. The gorgon flailed beneath him, but the avian showed no mercy, drawing back his arm and flinging the other male at the troll, sending the two flying away from the fae.

  Before Saxon could descend, the giant latched on to his wing and yanked. A pop reverberated, and I flinched, the crowd giving another collective gasp. Saxon collapsed, but he rebounded swiftly, flying around and around the giant’s feet, twisting his shoestrings together. Then he pushed, wrenching the beast off his feet.

  When the giant hit the ground, the entire coliseum shook. Dust plumed the air, rock scraping against rock. Heart racing, I clutched the arms of my throne and tilted forward, closer to the action. Saxon hovered near the giant, preparing to strike. How slowly he moved now. I looked him over, noticing the odd angle of the injured wing, and groaned. The pain he must be suffering. And the pixies hadn’t even dropped their bombs yet.

  The avian descended, thrusting his sword down...

  With a roar, the giant swung a beefy arm. He nailed Saxon in the head, flinging him a good length across the field.

  I jumped to my feet. My avian landed in the dirt with a hard thump. One second passed, two, three, but he didn’t get up. He didn’t even move.

  Concern for him propelled me from the dais. I pushed through the crowd, my heart knocking against my ribs. I didn’t care about any physical discomfort. I had other worries, Leonora attempting to wrest control from me, wanting to be the one to save Saxon. I fought back.

  Get to Saxon. Just get to Saxon.

  “Ashleigh? What are you doing?” Dior called. From the ensuing rustle, I suspected she had jumped to her feet and given chase. “You shouldn’t leave without a guard. The king told me it isn’t safe.”

  I’d attended the party without a problem. I wouldn’t be attacked now. I didn’t slow. Leonora continued to claw at our barrier, her frenzy feeding mine. Must get to Saxon.

  The tips of my fingers burned, a desire to torch everyone in my path consuming me. Her desire. She’s winning? “If you care for him so much, why have you harmed him in each incarnation? And don’t tell me it’s so you can start over.”

  She humphed. —My life, my business.—

  The gall. “I’ll tell you, then.” Truth was the only weapon that worked against a lie—it was the only weapon I had right now. Still pushing my way down the steps, I told her, “You killed him because you were angry with him. He didn’t choose to be with you, and you punished him for it.”

  —Of course I did.—The words hissed through my mind. —He gave me the world, and then took it away. But I will get it back. He will love me again.—

  “You cannot reap love when you sow hate.” I bumped into someone and bounced back, then mumbled an apology and flitted around them.

  A hard hand clamped around my bicep, stopping me midway. I gasped and flipped up my gaze. My stomach dropped.

  Trio towered over me, his features contorted with rage. “If it isn’t my favorite glass doll,” he said with a cruel grin.

  I thrust my hand into my pocket, gripping one of my daggers. “Let go.”

  Leaning down, pressing his nose into mine, he said, “Every time I visited the Temple, I obeyed my queen’s orders. You harmed her son, so, she harmed you in turn. A task she would have overseen herself, if you were worthy.”

  “Let. Go.”

  He tightened his grip. “The prince punished me for being too rough with you, choosing to support a princess rather than his own soldier. But that’s all right. I’m back with the queen, and she’s given me a new order. One I like very much indeed.”

  I masked a wince, preparing to strike at him. I’d never stabbed anyone. If he held me much longer, I would do it, whatever the consequences. “I’m done talking to you. Let me go and move out of my way, or I will take measures against you.”

  The people around us were too busy watching the battle to notice or care about the Glass Princess and an avian warrior.

  Dior reached me and frantically pulled on the back of my gown. “Guards! Help us,” she shouted, but her voice didn’t carry over the cheers. “Guards! They’re almost upon us, Ashleigh. All will be well.”

  Trio kept his gaze locked on me and grinned another twisted, evil grin. “The avian queen wants you dead. But first, she asked me to make you bleed.”

  I did it. I struck, freeing the dagger and jabbing it at his gut.

  I was new to battle. He wasn’t. He easily batted my hand away.

  Defeated already?

  Grin widening, he slapped his free hand over my throat. One squeeze and he cut off my air.

  Panic engulfed me. The guards wouldn’t reach us in time. I needed to move, but I couldn’t. I could only punch at his arm.

  I tried to breathe. I tried so hard. My lungs burned. A tide of dizziness invaded my head, and I thought I heard Dior scream. Black dots wove through my vision, and a high-pitched screech erupted in my ears. Suddenly I could hear nothing else—until a ferocious roar echoed through the coliseum.

  The next thing I knew, the pressure on my throat eased and I dropped, my legs unable to support me. As I sucked in mouthfuls of air, the dizziness ebbed and the black dots faded.

  Saxon loomed directly behind Trio, in the air, his expression marked by the most malicious rage I’d ever beheld. His broken wing labored to flap, barely able to hold him in place.

  I scrambled back. Had he seen me attempt to stab his soldier and had stopped everything to punish me?

  In a blur of motion, he snapped Trio’s neck with a single, violent yank. Shock held me immobile. What was even happening right now?

  The avian’s knees buckled. Saxon grabbed him by the hair before he could hit the ground, flew him to the battlefield—and dropped him into the middle of the fray.

  16

  Will he show mercy to a foe?

  The answer is always no.

  SAXON

  Impulses tore through me, one after the other, shredding my control. I wanted Adriel to feel the full breadth of my wrath. I wanted to gather Ashleigh in my arms and do for her what she’d done for me. I wanted to obliterate anyone who ever thought to harm her again.

  I’d had half my attention on the battle, half on Ashleigh and the tracker spell i
nside my head, and it had cost me dearly, ensuring I took more hits than I should have. Divided attention always came with a cost. Yet, I couldn’t regret my actions. Being so attuned to Ashleigh, I’d known when she’d pushed through the crowd. I’d known the moment she was stopped. I’d known when Adriel had clasped her vulnerable throat...

  A dagger-sharp growl ravaged my throat, what remained of my calm veneer disintegrating. Adriel was two hundred pounds of muscle, and he had choked a young girl with a damaged heart. I’d lost all sense, flying over to break his neck—nonfatal for an avian. Then I’d dropped him into the combat zone. The rules stated we could not leave the coliseum, and I hadn’t. The stands were part of the coliseum and no one could say otherwise.

  Now Adriel lay on the ground, unmoving, his gaze pleading for mercy he hadn’t shown Ashleigh.

  I could only indulge one of my desires right now. I looked to the giant, as if to say, He’s all yours. Whether the move would help me or hurt me with my people, I didn’t know. While they valued loyalty to one’s species, they also believed one should obey his king. Adriel had not done so.

  Skylair blood flowed through my veins. With or without the title, I was king three times over. I would be obeyed.

  Laughing, the giant stepped on Adriel’s head, crushing his skull—highly fatal for anyone.

  I landed, reentering the fray without a shred of remorse.

  Desperate to return to Ashleigh and whisk her to Everly, who could syphon from healers and mend her face, I forgot about proving I was strong enough to rule and vicious enough to rule well. I fought dirtier than ever. I jabbed eyes and kneed groins. Punched and clawed. The only thing I couldn’t do? Stab. The dagger I’d chosen possessed a retractable blade to better “murder” Roth. The same weapon Roth had chosen for himself, just in case mine got lost in the fray.

  Moving too fast to track, the vampire clawed my side, hitting bone. I let him take another swipe, just so I could catch his wrist, spin him around while yanking him against me, and rip out his throat with my bare hand. He toppled, but he never hit the ground. The giant scooped him up between meaty fingers.

  The gorgon must have gained dominion over the giant’s mind, because he now rode atop his massive shoulders, cheering as the giant ripped the vampire in half. Blood and viscera sprayed over the battlefield.

  One combatant down. Three remained.

  “Look out,” Roth called.

  The warning came a split second too late. As if the pixies had been waiting for the first casualty, they launched their first bomb right at my feet. Dust and glitter exploded, pluming the air, and I inadvertently inhaled a mouthful. My eyes burned, and my throat itched. I coughed so hard I might have cracked a rib. I... I... I frowned and pulled hanks of my hair. What...why... I couldn’t think. I needed to think!

  An iron-hard fist that had to belong to the giant slammed into my temple, and I wheeled to the left. On the plus side, the fog lifted from my mind, my thoughts my own once again. Stupid pixie dust. At least the giant stumbled about, too.

  The gorgon jumped off him, crashing into Roth. The two rolled over the dirt, punching at each other.

  My blood burned hot as I jogged...sprinted over, reaching the giant in record time. I leaped up and spun midair, extending my broken wing as far as it would go. Ignoring the spike of agonizing pain, I raked one of my many joint-hooks through the base of a horn. Amid his screams, his pain clearly excruciating, the appendage plopped to the ground.

  I swooped down to pick it up, Roth and the gorgon still rolling around.

  “Let him,” I shouted, knowing Roth alone would understand.

  My friend let the gorgon pin him, allowing me to ram the tip of the horn through his shoulder blades. The tip exited his chest, pieces of heart muscle clinging to it.

  The gorgon slumped over and fell, and Roth scrambled to his feet.

  Two opponents down, only the giant to go. Hurry. Must get to Ashleigh.

  My gaze locked with Roth’s. We nodded in unison because we knew what the other needed to do next.

  Roth threw himself at the giant, climbing him just to whisper in his ear, “You are still confused.” With a spoken command, Roth could compel almost anyone to do anything. He could tell the giant to off himself, and the giant would obey, but citizens would wonder why the giant had done something like that, after fighting so hard to survive.

  Few beings possessed the ability to compel with their voice and those that did hid it because people feared what they couldn’t control. However, any confusion at this time would be blamed on the new intoxibombs being dropped.

  As the giant alternated between kicking Roth and punching his own temples to combat his newest bout of confusion, he flung Roth several feet away. As the warrior came to his feet, he dodged a bomb but took a fist to the skull.

  I freed the horn from the gorgon, then yanked one of the vampire’s fangs free. His venom would stun the giant long enough for me to render a killing blow.

  Roth was severely battered and tiring fast, while the giant was still going strong. I wasn’t faring much better than my friend, my energy levels depleted, my wings broken in multiple places. Even still, I flew up, up, rising behind the giant as Roth launched a campaign to distract him.

  Every flap of my wings taught me a new lesson in agony.

  When the giant clutched Roth around the waist and lifted him, no doubt intending to rip him apart, I struck, sinking the fang into the gooey center of his severed horn.

  With a roar, he toppled. His massive body jerked as he struggled to move his limbs. As Roth rolled from his loosened grip, I tightened my hold on the horn and just started hacking, crimson pulp flying in every direction until his head detached from his body.

  By the holy skies, three down. Only one combatant to go. The one who planned to die.

  Urgency drove me toward Roth, who staggered to his feet. So close to victory, to tending Ashleigh. I wouldn’t waste a second; I would catch my breath after.

  He offered the barest nod, permission to do whatever proved necessary to sell our one-on-one battle. Which I did, knowing Everly would heal him the second the battle ended. I threw a hard punch, nailing him in the jaw. He careened to the side and fell, spitting blood and teeth he would regrow in minutes with his own magic. On the ground, he twitched and struggled to rise. Exaggerated, I knew, but still guilt flared.

  I dropped to my knees, my legs braced on both sides of his body. I unsheathed the dagger and slowly lifted it, letting the crowd spy the glint of metal.

  As the audience twittered with excitement, I struck, slamming the retractable blade against Roth’s chest, right over his heart. He jerked, then sagged into the dirt and held his breath.

  Trembling, panting, I sheathed the dagger, ensuring no one could study it, then lumbered to my feet. Four opponents down. I’d done it. I’d won the battle heat, carnage all around me. I would advance to the semifinals.

  The crowd erupted with thunderous applause.

  “The tenth and final battle heat has a winner!” the master of ceremonies called. “Congratulations, Crown Prince Saxon Skylair. Take a bow.” To the audience, he said, “Along with our other nine battle heat winners, Saxon will advance to our second week and compete in the semifinals, which will have two parts, doubling your fun.” The cheers rose and quieted, and he continued on. “Be sure to come back at dawn to witness the next volunteer competition. It’s a test of speed, and the winner gets to ask a boon of our great king.”

  I stumbled toward the stands, my vision blurring as blood dripped into my eyes. I wiped the droplets away with a shaky hand. No matter how badly I hurt, I would spread my wings and fly to Ashleigh.

  Before I mustered the strength to take off, a door to the combatant quarters opened up underneath the stands, brighter rays of torchlight spilling onto the field. Two rows of guards marched out.

  If they tried to stop me, they
would die.

  When the two rows parted, a smiling Ashleigh and a frowning Dior were revealed. My attention remained on Ashleigh, who wore a mourning gown.

  Relief spiked within me. Ashleigh was well, and finally within my reach. There were no tears in her eyes. Though a bruise had already formed on her throat, she never lost her smile.

  I didn’t understand. She’d been choked. A man under my command had attacked her. She should be raging at me. I’d failed her. When she’d needed me most, I’d failed her. The guilt...

  “I’m so proud of you,” she said, rushing over to examine my injuries. “But you needed a better dagger. There’s something wrong with the one you—”

  “Ashleigh,” I said. I should have known she’d notice the faulty blade. “Now isn’t the time, Princess.”

  “Yes, yes. You’re right. Oh, Saxon. Your poor body. You have so many gashes. And your wings.”

  Forget my pain. Her hands fluttered over me, and it was one of the greatest experiences of my life. No one special had ever ministered to me after a battle. I hadn’t known to want such a thing. You got hurt, someone patched you, the end. This was something to crave. “The first thing you do after getting choked is lecture me on the proper weaponry?” I suddenly wanted to grin. “Only you, Asha.”

  “You could have died. Of course I’m going to lecture you.”

  My heart warmed. “But we are enemies,” I said softly, hesitantly. “Shouldn’t you want me dead?”

  “Probably, but I don’t, okay?” She shifted, as if uncomfortable with this line of conversation. “Let’s get you to a healer before you collapse. But I refuse to carry you, do you hear me, so don’t even ask.”

  The grin spread, unstoppable. Despite everything, this girl cared about my well-being.

  I wrapped my arms around her, tugging her closer. She offered no protests, just melted into my body, reminding me of our perfect fit.

  “You shouldn’t be flying,” she told me. “Let’s walk—”

  I spread my broken wings and launched us into the air, heading for the campground. The farther we flew, the more grueling the flight became. Wind beat against my every wound, stinging like acid, and agony throbbed in every joint and muscle, but I pushed through. I wanted Ashleigh safely ensconced in my tent as soon as possible.

 

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