Betrayed? Defeated again?
Dying with every heartbeat?
“She worked with King Philipp to do what needed doing.” Raven moved behind her, head high. “Half of your army did, too. Face it, son. You were never going to be our king. Twice was enough.”
“I’m sorry, brother.” A lone tear ran down my sister’s cheek. She left the dagger buried deep in my chest. So deep she didn’t need to hold it to keep it in place. “When it comes to Leonora, you are weak. You would have been our ruin.”
Would have been. As if I were already dead.
I could feel myself dying, cold invading my limbs. Pressure in my torso. Quaking in my legs.
For six days, I’d lived with the woman I loved. I’d held her. I’d kissed and pleasured her. I’d talked and laughed with her. I’d played games with her. I’d trained her, and I’d encouraged her as she’d worked on her weapons. I’d known the sweetest peace.
I’d lived for the first and last time.
My dimming gaze returned to the mirror, to Ashleigh. She would be my last sight—I would not end my journey any other way.
She was on her knees, crying, shaking, because she knew what I knew. I couldn’t be healed from this. The second the blade was removed, I was dead. Magic wouldn’t be able to heal me fast enough. I knew this firsthand.
A moment of communion passed between us, when I projected the things I’d hoped to say to her after she accepted my proposal. I love you. I’m sorry for every mistake I made with you. You made my life worth living.
Goodbye, I mouthed.
Ashleigh shouted, “No.” She lifted a small crossbow and hammered at the trigger. Tempest jerked, a hiltless golden dagger protruding from the tip of her boot.
In a rage, my sister fought to remove the blade. But it stuck, as if welded to a bone.
At the same time, Raven took a golden dagger to the heel. She couldn’t remove it, either, no matter how mightily she tugged.
As they thrashed, Ashleigh threw back her head and screamed to the ceiling. The sound of it... More pain, rage, and sorrow than I’d ever heard. I cringed, warm blood dripping from my ears. From everyone’s ears. People of every color, creed, and species stopped whatever they were doing to cover their ears.
Glass shattered, raining from champagne glasses and high arching windows. All but the mirror above the throne. In a blind panic, people scrambled to get out of the way. Armed guards attempted to corral the crowd without success.
Strength deserted me. My legs gave out, and I hit my knees. The dais shook, rattling my bones. All around, chaos ruled.
Dimming...
Another commotion broke out. Roth swung from a vine—through the mirror. One of Everly’s gateways. His men followed close on his heels.
The second those soldiers were safely ensconced inside the palace, the vines retracted, filling the open spaces to prevent anyone from escaping.
Dimming... I returned my gaze to Asha. She wiped her tears and lumbered to her feet, determination stamped in her expression. Eyes narrowed, she stalked toward me once more, purpose in every step. Almost upon me.
Ashleigh punched my mother in the face with a flaming fist, and a screaming Raven fell. I had no sympathy for her.
Tempest prepared to strike at my princess, but Ashleigh slammed a fist dead center in the girl’s sternum, just as I’d taught her. My sister screamed, too, her shirt smoking, the skin beneath it blistering upon contact.
Ashleigh dropped to my side, her flames vanishing. Tears ran down her cheeks as she looked me over. “Oh, Sax.”
I lost sight of the rest of the world. Ashleigh was my sun, my every thought revolving around her. “I’m so sorry, Asha. Hurt you. Love you.”
“Shh. Shh. Save your strength, my darling.”
Blood gurgled from me. Time running out. I used my strength to caress her cheek, leaving a smear of gold dust behind. No, it wasn’t gold dust. It was amour, so much stronger than ever before. “You were. Worth. Wait.” Worth every trial. Worth...everything. I would have died a thousand more deaths with Leonora, just to have this one life with her.
Her tears came faster. “You’re not going to die, Sax. You’re going to live, and we’re going to kill Leonora together. I’m going to marry you. So fight with everything you’ve got. I’m going to be doing the same.” She reached out with a shaky hand to caress the side of my face, her skin hot but not burning. “This isn’t the end for you. This isn’t the end for us.”
“Die already.” Raven bellowed as blood poured from her wounds. She still hadn’t removed the dagger from her heel, and it had immobilized her.
Ashleigh didn’t look away from me as she raised the crossbow and fired another metal shard into Raven’s abdomen.
Chin trembling, she dropped the weapon and reached toward my face once more, only to switch direction midway, aiming for the dagger still embedded in my chest. Except, she drew back once again. “Be mine. Never be hers. I will give you one last chance—Don’t listen to her, Sax—I will save your life, but first you must pledge—No. Pledge nothing.” She pressed her lips together, going quiet, her eyes flashing between green and blue so quickly I struggled to tell one from the other.
Ashleigh and Leonora were fighting for control. In that moment, I realized the truth. Ashleigh had been right. She never would have been truly happy with Leonora buried inside her. The phantom needed to die.
I tried to speak, to tell her I loved her one last time, how sorry I was that I’d failed us both so many times, but I only made choking sounds. A greater weakness than I’d ever known invaded my muscles...my bones.
“If you do not agree,” she continued, eyes blue, then green, blue, green, “Do not agree. I will let you die. I can save you, just give me a chance. Then I’ll kill the girl. Me not her.” Two women speaking from one mouth elicited pure confusion.
I wasn’t at my best, my thoughts as dull as my eyesight; I probably couldn’t think my way off a floating log. Deciphering what they’d said was beyond me.
Once again, Ashleigh reached for the dagger—drew back—reached. I was just coherent enough to remember Ashleigh had wanted to touch me before Leonora had begun speaking through her. If Ashleigh wanted to touch me, Ashleigh got to touch me.
With the last remnants of my strength, I bowed my back to the best of my ability, lifting my chest the next time she reached for the dagger... Contact. Her fingers brushed the hilt of my sister’s dagger, and the weapon...just...melted, and...and...what was happening? Excruciating.
I threw back my head and roared. I thought the metal might be cooling to form a thin layer of metal where my heart had been cut. Internal armor?
I wheezed every breath, my veins on fire. My vision blurred, clouded by the smoke that curled from my flesh. Sweat trickled from my pores. But...my heartbeat normalized.
I was healing? The metal had truly fused—bonded—to my heart, the two working together? Because of Ashleigh’s magic? The ability Ophelia had mentioned?
My princess is stronger than all of us.
Soon, my heartbeat steadied. The smoke thinned, my vision clearing. What I found worried me. Ashleigh’s eyes were flashing blue so swiftly, I could barely detect a hint of green anymore.
A roar more ear-piercing than Ashleigh’s suddenly cut through the air, and nearly every occupant in the room became paralyzed with terror. Thick tension filled the room, silence descending—until Pagan and Pyre burst through what remained of the windows, entering the palace.
I heard a chorus of gasps and screams as the beasts flew over the masses, blowing targeted streams of fire to form a wall. Raven and Tempest rolled out of the way before the flames could consume them.
I clasped Ashleigh’s trembling hand. She’d paled, her skin waxen, the fight with Leonora weakening her.
“She’s decided...to kill you and...start over. Won’t let her.” Eyes flash
ing faster, Ashleigh wrenched free of my grip and scrambled back. She stumbled to her feet, and I lumbered to mine.
“It’s all right, Asha.” I reached for her. Noel’s forever-ago prediction that all would be settled by midnight filled my head. That what would be, would be. Ashleigh had saved me. What right did I have to condemn her to a life with Leonora? Her happiness meant more to me than my own. What she wanted, I would provide. Always. “We’re going to kill the phantom together, love.”
She lurched back before I could say more. “Don’t come any closer. She’s winning.” Then she grabbed her crossbow, turned and ran.
“Ashleigh,” I shouted.
She didn’t look back. One of her boots snagged on a fallen body and slipped free. She kept going, running on broken glass, leaving a trail of crimson in her wake. Too soon, she moved through the flames and vanished into the panicking crowd.
I picked up a fallen sword. As I cracked the bones in my neck, I scanned the room. People running. Bodies motionless on the floor. The avian who had followed my sister and mother fought Roth’s men, and they were losing. The king and Dior remained on their thrones. While Dior kept her head down and rocked back and forth, obviously terrified, the furious king twisted this way and that.
He fights for freedom. His stepdaughter had turned his feet into gold. That gold was so translucent, it appeared glass. They must have been heavy because they held him in place as surely as pitch.
Pagan landed next to me and licked my face before her massive, scaled body heaved once, twice, thrice, and she spit out Noel.
Covered in slime, the oracle rolled across the floor. She climbed to her feet, shouting, “I said I wanted a ride on you, not in you. I had to use up the protective magic Ophelia bottled for me, even though I was saving it for a special occasion.” In the midst of her tirade, she spotted me and reared back.
Good. She should fear me. They all should.
“Uh, pay no attention to what I just said. I’m super protected right now. In other ways. Yes, yes. Other ways. And, um, you don’t know it yet, but you need me to save Ashleigh’s life. So go kill Leonora before all our hard work is wasted.”
Truth or a desperate lie? We would find out. “I will let you live—for now—because Ophelia did aid us. If you are lying, I will make your death a thousand times worse.”
“I can’t lie, remember? And also, I know you’ll kill me if I manage to lie. Oracle.” She tapped her temple.
Someone ran into her, and she stumbled, not quite so invulnerable without her witch friend or the protective magic.
When someone else closed in at a rapid pace, she spun, avoiding contact this time, telling me, “We did what we did to set our only viable shot at victory into motion.” Spin. Spin. “Think about it. Everything we did and said elicited the necessary emotional responses to get you here, at this moment, with enemies and allies alike piled into one room, making the final battle unavoidable for any of you. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Tell me where to find Ashleigh, oracle.”
“Oh. That’s easy. Just follow the yellow dust road.”
30
Misery or happiness, what you seek is what you find.
Always move forward, never look behind.
Ashleigh
Despite my weakness, I continued moving forward, plagued by urgency. I was leaving a trail of gold dust in my wake. The same gold dust that had been all over Saxon’s hands was now all over me, falling from my clothes as surely as the blood dripping from my wounds. With my physical weakness, I was losing ownership of my body. Bit by bit, Leonora was taking it from me.
She’d been shoring her strength, waiting.
The time had come to kill her—before she killed me. But how?
—Why don’t you use your magic to save yourself?—Leonora’s laughing voice filled my head. —I know why. Because you can’t. Your ability is pathetic.—
Hardly. I’d used the bonding to help me earlier. When I’d screamed, a force had come over me, melding my voice with currents in the air.
The only thing I knew to do now was leave the palace before Leonora buried me. I just needed a little more time to figure this out. I fell, one of my feet torn to shreds by glass. I crawled. Crawling, crawling. Faster and faster. Putting one hand in front of the other, one knee in front of the other. Moving forward...weakening...
—Just a matter of time now.—Laugh.
Pyre landed in front of me, shaking the floor, and picked me up with her mouth, careful not to cut me with her teeth. With a little toss, she maneuvered me onto her back. Then she leaped into the air, blowing fire across the room.
“Good girl.” I held tight to one of her horns. Fast as wind... “Put me down outside the room, baby, then go protect your father.”
—He doesn’t get to break my heart and live.—
Pyre busted through Everly’s vines. Cool, fresh air enveloped me. I breathed deep...except, Ophelia had erected magical doorways outside every exit, and those doorways led right back to the throne room. We couldn’t leave.
Tears welled, my options withering. I couldn’t risk Leonora taking me over in here. “Put me down in that corner,” I instructed, guiding Pyre toward a space clear of people.
The dragon landed where I’d requested, and I climbed down as smoothly as I was able. The more ground Leonora gained, the more my head throbbed. Any moment, I expected my temples to explode.
As Pyre flew off to help Saxon as requested, I fell to my knees, my legs unable to support my weight. Deep breath in. Out.
Leonora laughed. —So close to your defeat.—
“I would rather die than let you use my body again.” I lifted my crossbow and moved the right lever, causing the sides to flatten, revealing a center blade I then pressed to the hollow of my throat.
Was this the end for me? I’d fought to survive all my life, but I wondered if I’d always been building to this moment of sacrifice. Was my destiny to die while the phantom lived on?
How fitting that it should happen with one of my own designs.
Cinder had gotten a happily-ever-after. I wouldn’t. And that was okay, I decided, as long as Saxon got his. That would be enough for me. And if this was my last life, that was okay, too. I would be a worthy sacrifice for worthy people. Saxon. Pagan. Pyre. Even Everly, Roth. Maybe even Ophelia and Noel. Definitely Dior. My stepsister might have left me behind in the dungeon, but she must have done it to remain close to my father, so that she could help me during the ball. She’d kept him locked in place the entire time, unable to cause any more damage. I’d seen the results of her magic—she’d done it while staring straight at me, just before I’d made the trek to Saxon.
—Your death won’t change anything. I’ll just inhabit another body until you’re born again.—She evinced confidence, but she’d stopped laughing. —Put the blade down, Ashleigh.—
Someone raced past me, stepping on my free hand. I hissed in pain, my body rolling in to protect itself. I maintained my grip on the weapon. Other stampeders followed the first, swarming the area. Someone bumped into me, knocking me to the side. I skidded across the floor before crashing into a group of people, who fell on top of me. Others tripped over us. Different screams blended together. A dragon roared.
More footsteps. I squirmed, wiggled, and crawled my way out from under the pile of bodies. My limbs shook. I threw a glance over my shoulder and caught Saxon knocking someone out of the way. He was stomping toward me, on a war path.
No, no, no. He was almost upon me. Crawling again, crawling faster...
Leonora’s laughter started up again.
“Everly,” he shouted.
Faster... The palace shook, nearly toppling me. Vines shot from the floor, pieces of marble flying about. Those vines latched hold of everyone around me and dragged them to Pagan and Pyre, who were herding the other terrified guests into a corner.
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Then, Saxon was beside me. He bound my bloody foot before he scooped me to his chest.
“Put me down. Leonora is—Hold me, darling. I need you to hold me.” I forced myself to let go of the blade. The next thing I knew, I’d wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him as he carried me across the room. I felt the phantom readying her fire magic, intending to burn him alive. Stop, stop. “Saxon, please. Kill me or let me end myself before she uses me to kill you.” New sparks flickered at the ends of my fingers.
The dragons finished their herding mission. Pyre held the majority of guests hostage on one side of the room, while Pagan herded our allies to the opposite side. Roth. Everly. Dior. Ophelia. Noel. As if they sensed my affection for each one.
Raven and Tempest broke free of the masses and sprinted for a door. I knew the magical doorway would lead them right back inside the throne room, but Pagan didn’t. She flew over, landed in front of the avian, and blew a stream of fire directly into their faces.
“My eyes,” Raven screamed.
“I can’t see,” Tempest shouted.
Around them, bodies created a sea of death over the floor. Many of them had burned to death when they’d tried to stop me from reaching Saxon. If we’d been in Fleur, they would have been placed in glass coffins and—
Glass. The Glass Princess. Another portion of my prophecy crystalized. I wasn’t known as the Glass Princess because I might shatter. I was the Glass Princess because I could put a multitude of people into their graves at any time I wished.
Leonora gained even more ground. Flames spread up my arms, but I waged war with the phantom to stop them, fighting with every fiber of my being. “Let me go,” I pleaded. “Before she burns you.”
“Listen to me, love,” Saxon said. He picked up my blade. “If you force her to bond with your body and cut your own connection to it, we can kill her by killing your body. You could be raised with magic. That is the hope. Is that what you want?”
The Glass Queen Page 40
