Legacy of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  Benjy had squirmed away from Aunt Scarlett, recovering enough of his usual enthusiasm to caper around the space, preening in all the attention. Still, Jocelyn noticed he kept far away from his uncle’s body. Aunt Scarlett turned quickly to her daughter, putting an arm around her shoulders and speaking quietly to her.

  After a prolonged moment, Eamon tore his gaze from the two women with an effort, turning his eyes to his sister.

  “Jocelyn,” he said, his face drained of color. “Are you sure you’re all right? I don’t exactly know what you did to me, but it felt strong.”

  “I’m fine, Eamon,” she assured him. “I just overdid it with my power a little. Normally it would be fine, but I still haven’t recovered from something…enormous several days ago.” Eamon’s gaze flicked uncertainly between her and Kincaid, and she added quickly, “Kincaid knows all about my power, Eamon, it’s all right. He figured it out, and he’s been helping me learn to understand it, and to use it safely.”

  “I didn’t know your power could run out,” said Eamon softly, and Jocelyn shook her head.

  “I’m not sure it can. It’s not my power, it’s me. I guess I have a limited amount of energy, and my body can only take so much.” She smiled softly up at Kincaid. “Which is why Kincaid’s basically holding me up.” Kincaid’s arms tightened around her slightly, his face expressing his relief that it was finally over.

  Jocelyn pulled her gaze away, looking back toward her brother. Eamon still looked dubious, so she decided not to mention Kincaid knew all about his power, too.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said instead, giving him a small smile. She started to pull away from Kincaid, and he released her with reluctance. She stumbled the few steps to Eamon, and he extended his arms automatically to receive her. She leaned into him, giving him a quick and relieved squeeze.

  “What have I done, Jocelyn?” he whispered, too low for Kincaid to hear. “What have I done to Kyona? And how will Father ever trust me again?”

  “You didn’t know, Eamon,” she said earnestly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Scanlon targeted you, specifically, because he wanted his revenge on Father to be personal. He came at you when you were alone—I suspect he was the one to call our parents away.”

  Eamon frowned. “They heard a report that the street gangs were operating again in Alezae. That children were going missing from the dockside district, just like they did when Mother was a child.”

  Jocelyn shook her head, an angry glint in her eye. “That sounds like Scanlon to me. It wouldn’t have taken much research for him to discover that such a report would be guaranteed to take Father to Alezae immediately, and that Mother would insist on accompanying him.” She looked at her brother, her eyes serious. “He orchestrated the whole thing, Eamon, I’m sure of it. And then he doused you with his power before you knew what was happening.”

  “And I was taken in, like a fool,” said Eamon bitterly. He let go of her, covering his face in his hands, and she swayed slightly before regaining her balance. He lowered his hands, meeting her eyes. “Was there really some kind of dragon magic involved?”

  Jocelyn nodded. “And ours is definitely dragon magic, too, Eamon. I met Elddreki—the dragon from Father’s stories. We traveled together, and he knew instantly that I had some kind of dragon power in me.”

  Eamon shook his head slowly. “You were right,” he said hollowly, but it was clear his mind was still caught up on Scanlon’s betrayal. “And it makes sense, in a way.” His voice was quiet, talking more to himself than his sister. “I think it was the very familiarity of him that drew me in. It felt like he was akin to me, somehow.”

  “But his was a warped power, Eamon, and ours isn’t,” said Jocelyn earnestly. She laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. His power was strong, and you were hardly the only one taken in by it. Most of the court at Bryford worship him.”

  “You saw straight through him,” said Eamon, his voice full of bitter self-reproach.

  “Not at first,” she said quickly. “At first I wanted to trust him, too. But I’ve had so much practice lately at recognizing and controlling this type of power. Once I realized what it was, it was all I could see every time he opened his mouth. And then the rest of the pieces fell into place.” She squeezed his arm. “There’s a lot of information you don’t have, Eamon. This isn’t your fault.”

  He shook his head. “It’s worse than you know, Joss.” His voice was anguished. “I’m grateful—so grateful—for what you did here today. For me, and for Raldon. But it’s not enough to prevent the disaster I’ve unleashed on our kingdom.” He squeezed his eyes shut, as if it was difficult to confess it, even to his twin. “Before I rode for Raldon, I sent an edict out across the kingdom.”

  “No you didn’t,” said Jocelyn quickly. “I intercepted the pages, all of them, on the way out of the castle. The edict didn’t go out.”

  “What?” Eamon’s eyes flew open, their expression startled. Kincaid had approached, winding one supporting arm around Jocelyn’s waist, but her brother ignored him, his eyes fixed on Jocelyn. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Very sure.”

  “But…” Eamon hesitated. “I used Father’s signet ring. The edict was binding. How did you convince them to…” He trailed off, as if suddenly realizing the answer to his own question.

  Jocelyn nodded, and he looked both impressed and a little alarmed. He let out a long breath. “That’s an incredible relief.” He eyed his sister appraisingly. “Again, I’m eternally grateful. But maybe you shouldn’t make a habit of using your power to override royal edicts.”

  She chuckled. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  Eamon’s face instantly became troubled again. “The situation is not as drastic as I thought, if the edict didn’t go out. But it’s still going to be a devastating rift. The court approved the order.” His eyes met hers, again anguished. “They know I rode here, and what I was intending.”

  “I’ve spoken to the court,” said Jocelyn matter-of-factly. “They know this was a plot by our enemies, and the edict has been revoked.”

  Eamon shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Joss. They agreed to the proposal.” Shame again marred his features. “I convinced them to agree, with my words.”

  “And I changed their minds with my words,” said Jocelyn, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Although…” She cocked her head to one side. “The power isn’t actually in our words, Eamon, it’s in us.” She felt a surge of energy returning at the thought of how much she could teach her twin. “I have so much to tell you, Eamon. You won’t believe all the things I’ve learned. You won’t believe where I’ve been.” But a quick glance around reminded her it was hardly the time.

  “But for the moment,” she hurried on, “just trust me that the court has been…persuaded. They believe the whole proposal was a plot against us—which, let’s be honest, it was—and you rode out to Raldon for the express purpose of stopping it.”

  Eamon looked astonished. “You really have been busy!” He shook his head, and Jocelyn’s heart was wrenched by the shame still spread across his face. “You came to my rescue in the nick of time, Joss, and that version of events is more than I deserve.”

  “No it’s not,” she said firmly. “This was Scanlon’s fault, Eamon, not yours. And we stopped him. There’s no harm done.”

  But she knew the words weren’t true, even as she said them. Her gaze was drawn to Lucy, who was still visibly shaken. The terrible burden Lucy would carry forever was probably the most heartbreaking consequence of the whole plot. Jocelyn realized Eamon’s gaze was focused in the same direction, and she gave him a nudge.

  “Go on.”

  He hesitated for a moment, looking at her with an expression she found difficult to read. Then he strode away toward Lucy, where she stood near the door of the small building.

  Although Jocelyn was too far away to hear their words, there was no mistaking the apology in Eamon’s eyes, or the pleading way he rea
ched out a hand toward Lucy. And there was equally no mistaking the coldness with which she turned away. Jocelyn’s heart twisted at Eamon’s posture as Lucy walked away from him. She had never seen her twin look so lost.

  “Will she forgive him, do you think?” Kincaid asked quietly, clearly having watched the interaction as well. “Given time?”

  “I hope so,” Jocelyn whispered.

  “Joss.” She turned quickly to see Uncle Jonan. He didn’t appear to have witnessed the interaction between his daughter and Eamon, and his face was light with relief. “Thank you. I think it’s safe to say you saved the day.”

  “You’re exaggerating, Uncle Jo,” said Jocelyn with a faint smile.

  “Nonsense,” he said brightly. He turned to Kincaid. “So who are you, then, with your arm around our Joss so shamelessly?”

  The humor was clear in his words, and Kincaid grinned responsively. “I’m the charming prince, come to sweep the princess away, of course.” He extended a hand toward Uncle Jonan. “I’m Kincaid, sir, and I’m honored to meet you.”

  Uncle Jonan ignored the hand, instead grasping Kincaid’s arm in the traditional Kyonan greeting. But there was a slight frown on his face. “Kincaid, is it? Why is that name not familiar?”

  “I’m the wrong prince,” Kincaid admitted with a chuckle. “Everyone was expecting Jocelyn to get stuck with my older brother, Crown Prince Ormond. But he’s such a dull dog I couldn’t let her do it, not once I saw how much fire she has in her.”

  Uncle Jonan laughed aloud. “I like you,” he announced. He grinned at Jocelyn. “So you fell for the wrong brother, did you, Joss? Well, well.” He sounded indulgent. “I never take much interest in court intrigue when I can avoid it, but surely one prince is as good as another as far as all the sticklers are concerned.” He glanced away from them around the clearing, and his expression grew serious for a moment. “I don’t know what the court will make of all this. I don’t even know how to explain it all to Cal when he gets back.”

  “Let me do that, Uncle Jonan,” said Jocelyn quickly. “There’s a lot I need to tell him and Mother. And I expect them in Kynton imminently. I sent a message to them in Alezae as soon as I crossed back into Kyona.”

  “Is that right?” Uncle Jonan looked thoughtful for a moment. “In that case, I think I’ll head to Kynton as soon as this mess is cleared up.” His gaze fell on Eamon. “I’m relieved your brother came out of whatever enchantment he was under. This will be hardest on him, I think.”

  “Yes,” said Jocelyn softly.

  Uncle Jonan seemed to catch the grief in her voice, because he turned back with a reassuring smile. “He’s young, Joss, he’ll get past this mistake.” He chuckled. “He’s certainly no more a fool than I was at his age.”

  “Be sure to tell him that,” said Jocelyn dryly. “I’m sure it will make him feel much better.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The ride back to Kynton was much slower, partly because Kincaid insisted Jocelyn ride in front of him on his horse rather than on her own. She didn’t protest, only too ready to lean back against him and let him guide the horse. Her eyes were drooping so much that she thought she might have drifted off a few times, but Kincaid’s strong arms kept her from falling.

  The sense of security and belonging that washed over her as she leaned into his chest was almost as potent as dragon magic. She could hardly believe that not only was Kyona safe, but she had somehow gotten everything she wanted. The idea of waking up every day to the solid comfort of Kincaid’s presence beside her made her feel almost giddy. She found her head resting against his shoulder, and she chuckled to herself at a sudden memory.

  “What are you laughing about?” he asked quietly.

  Jocelyn glanced around before answering, checking Eamon wasn’t within hearing. He was riding a short way behind them, uncharacteristically subdued, Henrik beside him and his squadrons at his back.

  “Do you remember that night in Dragoncave?”

  “Do I remember it?” Kincaid sounded amused. Then his voice dropped, and his breath tickled her ear as he spoke. “I will never forget it, as long as I live.” His tone sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

  “It felt so scandalous,” she said with a smile, “letting my arm touch your side like that. But I was mortified when I woke up. You were still asleep, so you never saw, but I had shuffled all the way over while I slept, and I had my arm halfway across you and my head on your shoulder.” She snuggled it in as she spoke. “Much like this, actually.”

  “What?” Kincaid’s arms tightened around her, and he sounded aggrieved. “I can’t believe I missed it. I wish I’d woken up first.”

  “Not likely,” said Jocelyn cheerfully. “I’m an early riser.”

  At that moment, the sound of thundering hooves reached them from ahead. They had almost made it to the capital, and Jocelyn sat up straighter, straining her eyes to see who was approaching from Kynton. A squadron came pounding into view, and she gave an inarticulate cry when she caught sight of the mounted figure at the front of the group.

  “Is that King Calinnae?” Kincaid asked, and Jocelyn hid a smile at the slightly breathless edge to his voice. She wasn’t sure if it was her father’s legendary status or the fact that he had his arms wrapped around the man’s daughter that made Kincaid seem nervous. Some combination of both, probably.

  “Yes,” she said, “that’s Father.” Her eyes flicked to the rider immediately beside him. “And Mother as well!” she cried joyfully. She leaned forward, and their horse seemed to respond to her enthusiasm, lengthening its stride and bearing them more swiftly to intercept the other party.

  “Jocelyn!” her father cried, as soon as they were close enough for speech. His expression was strained and anxious, but some of the tension left his face as his gaze passed from his daughter to his son and back again. “Eamon! Are you both all right?”

  They all pulled up their mounts as they met in the middle, the squadrons moving seamlessly to form a loose ring around the royals and Henrik.

  “We’re all right, Father,” Jocelyn said quickly. Her eyes passed to her mother, joy bubbling up within her at the reunion. “You got my message?”

  “We did,” said her mother, pulling her horse close enough to lean over and grasp Jocelyn’s hand. “We left Alezae immediately.”

  “Is Scanlon here somewhere?” her father asked sharply. “Is everyone at Raldon safe?”

  Jocelyn took a deep breath. “They’re all safe. But Scanlon is dead. We have a lot to tell you.” She glanced back at her brother, who had barely greeted their parents, his gaze on the ground. “But not here.”

  “Of course not,” said the queen briskly. “We will return to the castle at once, and you can tell us all about it.”

  “I think Jocelyn should rest first, Your Majesties,” said Kincaid firmly. “She’s barely able to stay upright.”

  “Who are you?” asked the king, a bit aggressively, seeming to take in Kincaid’s presence for the first time. His gaze flicked to Kincaid’s arms, which were still stretched around Jocelyn’s form in order to grasp the reins, and his eyes narrowed.

  “Cal,” reproved Queen Elnora, in an admonishing undertone. Jocelyn could feel Kincaid shifting nervously, and she could barely restrain a grin.

  “This is Prince Kincaid,” said Jocelyn quickly. “And that’s Lord Henrik. They’ve been great friends to our kingdom today. But I don’t need to rest. I mean,” she amended, “I do, but it can wait. There’s so much I need to say first.”

  “We were told at the castle that someone had sent guards to Raldon, and that Eamon had gone to stop them, and you had followed, Jocelyn.”

  “That’s just the story Joss spread, Father,” said Eamon dully. “The truth is it’s all my fault.”

  “No it isn’t,” said Jocelyn, frowning at him in spite of her relief that the seed she had planted with the court had grown so successfully.

  The queen’s eyes were passing between her children, her expression shrewd.
“We can discuss it at home,” she said firmly.

  They traveled the remaining distance in silence, Kincaid suddenly holding his arms in a stiff and unnatural way, so there was as little contact as possible between him and his passenger. It was much less comfortable, but Jocelyn didn’t complain. She remembered all too clearly how nervous she had felt about meeting the Valorian royals when she thought they might become her parents-in-law.

  Which they would of course, she reminded herself with an internal laugh. Lavinia would get her for a sister after all. She wondered how Ormond would feel about having his prospective bride stolen away from him by his little brother. Perhaps his pride would be stung, but remembering his shocked expression when he first saw her, in all her traveling filth, she suspected that deep down he would be relieved.

  She insisted on Kincaid accompanying her into her father’s private receiving room, but Henrik very considerately excused himself. Jocelyn was glad. She liked the dashing knight—and she wouldn’t be forgetting that he’d saved her life—but she didn’t think she’d be able to speak freely to her parents in front of him.

  Not that she was given much chance to speak at first, her father being unable to focus on anything but the presence of the unknown young man sitting so close beside his only daughter.

  “So who are you?” he tried again the moment they were all alone in the room.

  Kincaid stood, bowing very correctly to the king. “I am Prince Kincaid of Valoria, Your Majesty. And I’m honored to meet you.”

  “Welcome, Prince Kincaid,” said the queen quickly, shooting a restraining look toward her husband. “You are the younger of the two Valorian princes, I believe?” Her gaze slid to her daughter, one eyebrow slightly raised. To her annoyance, Jocelyn felt herself flushing, and the sudden twinkle in her mother’s eyes told her that the perceptive queen had already pieced together everything she needed to know.