by Jenni James
CHAPTER TWENTY
ALEYNA HUNG FROM THE wall, iron shackles digging into her motionless wrists and ankles, her head had lulled to the side against the shimmery-whiteness of her dress sleeve. Long dark hair spilled around her face, barely exposing one closed eye.
She was asleep—hopefully.
“Aleyna? Can you hear me?” With his heart pounding even faster he kept the torch focused on her person and saw the faint rise and fall of breathing. She was asleep. “Aleyna, what has she done to you?” He had to get her down from there immediately.
Searching the room, he found a wall sconce and quickly set the torch inside of it, lighting the whole area. Seeing the handle to loosen the chains that held her shackles up, he released it, slowly lowering her listless body to the ground. Within seconds she was in his arms, his eyes scanning the place for keys to remove the iron from her—there were none.
“Aleyna, wake up, dear. Wake up, I am here.” Wrapping his arms tighter around her languid form he rose her mouth up to meet his, intent on kissing her charmingly soft lips. His mouth had just touched hers when he heard a loud commotion—a roar—without the castle walls above him. “What is that sound?”
Ezralon lunged forward, his horn glowing brightly, trying desperately to prevent Villeria’s temper from escalating even more than it already was. “Now, my fair lady, you know the prince will return as he has promised he would. There is no reason you should be so upset, it has only been a few minutes, I am sure, since he has left our presence.”
“It has been over a quarter of an hour. I am not known for my patience.” She paced the ground, her eyes boring into George’s leg causing him to falter—sweat quickly encasing his brow, as he resisted every urge to cry out in pain.
“My lady,” Michael interrupted, “you win nothing by harming him. Please—”
“I win nothing?” she whipped around to the king. “Are you daft? I win the exclusive honor of watching you all groan in agony if I choose to. When I am hurting, I enjoy making others suffer, it is quite rewarding, if you understand the intricacies of such power.” She took a couple more paces before throwing her head back and laughing. “Ironically, it will take him forever to find her, so we have a long time to reward my hurt.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ezralon. “You know where she is?”
“Of course I do! Do you honestly believe I would come here and not have taken care of my protégé first?” she sniggered.
“So you have sent the prince on a fool’s errand?” Michael touched the hilt of his sword.
“Dear little king, unless you would like to have both your legs shriveled away before your eyes this instant, I suggest you remove your hand from your sword and step back a pace or two. Really, boys, you should understand by now how much I detest anyone dismissing my bad side. It is folly to do so and simply will only prove to make your lives more miserable. Right, little one?” she whipped her head toward George, her eyes boring into his leg again. This time he did cry out in pain.
Just then a loud roaring noise could be heard outside.
Villeria smiled. “Well, it seems they have decided to arrive after all.”
“You assembled an army?” Ezralon asked, his horn glowing a deep blue signifying great danger was upon them all.
“As well you know I did. I assembled the army to distract you from feeling the presence of me when I came a bit early as a surprise gift. And of course, I thought it a bit fair I brought my own protection, I seemed a bit outnumbered by you men.” She grinned and walked to the door, opening it with a flourish. “Come in; come in, my little ones. I have some people I would like you to meet.”
Ezralon, stepped toward the door while Michael and George unsheathed their swords. “I have protected you from Villeria killing you—until the prince returns—but I have no power over the minions she chooses to use against you.”
“That is right, you do not.” Villeria smiled serenely and stepped back as hundreds of the small grey and brown animal-like creatures began to pour into the castle. She raised an eyebrow and watched in satisfaction as their loud screeches, yammering, and sharp claws began to descend upon the men and the unicorn. She shouted above the uproar, “If you will forgive me boys, while you are thus occupied, I have a much bigger fish to catch within my net.” And with that, she was gone.
At the first sounds of the roar, Darién quickly placed Aleyna on the floor and drew his sword out and began to frantically work through the chains that held her wrists and ankles captive. With them still on, he could only move her about ten feet or so from the room. The roaring grew and began to be heard faintly above them. He had to release her this instant—there was no other time, frantically he slammed the hilt of his sword into the chain, denting it a bit.
“Darién?” Aleyna whispered, her head pounding. “Darién where am I? What is happening?”
He halted. “You are awake?”
“Yes. Just.” She attempted to sit up, but a great dizziness overcame her and she slumped back down. “I feel unwell, Darién.”
“It is the enchantment wearing off, you will probably feel ill for quite some time. However, as soon as possible, I need you to work through it and help me. I am trying to release you from the trap Villeria has laid—so that we can escape.”
“Where are we? What is that noise?”
“Other than me pounding? I would assume it is an army the sorceress had sent to help her.”
“You would assume correctly,” came a sinister voice down the dark hall. “My, my boy. You are productive, are you not? Already you have located my pretty flower and are attempting to remove her.”
Darién scrambled to his feet, sword in hand, as Villeria came out of the darkness—her red hair blazing in wild curls. She looked down at Aleyna and clucked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk. I see you have woken her up with your kisses, have you not? Could you not control yourself even a few minutes?” She sighed. “Well, then, since you could not, you will have to be punished.”
An invisible force flew Darién into the air, his sword slipping from his fingers, and slammed him against the wall.
“No!” Aleyna shouted, her ears buzzing from the racking pain her shout pulsated through her skull.
“You will remain silent, Aleyna!” Villeria snarled.
Darién was choking. His airways were closed so tight, he could not get a breath in to speak. Wildly he kicked at the invisible force holding him up, his hands clawing at nothing to relieve the pressure.
“Let him go!” Aleyna cried. “Do not do this, let him go!”
Villeria turned toward the girl and laughed when she attempted to scramble away from her. “What do you say, Queen? What do you say to your sorceress?”
“Please. Please release him. I will do anything you say, just release him.”
“Groveling does wonders for my soul.” Villeria smiled, still looking at the queen, as Darién fell behind her, collapsing in a painful groan upon the cobbled ground.
He hacked and coughed, inhaling large quantities of damp filthy air into his lungs. Everything burned, especially his leg, which was twisted violently up under him and most likely broken.
“Darién? Are you all right?”
“Do not speak to him! He is nothing to either of us, do you understand?” Villeria snarled. “If you speak to him, I will kill him instantly.”
“You—you cannot—kill me,” Darién spat out as he slowly rose to sitting position. “Y-you would be—you would be a fool to do so.”
Villeria snarled, her rage beginning to boil deep within. “What would ever make you say such a ridiculous thing to me? Why challenge my power now while you are useless and your sword feet away from you?”
The prince grunted and sat fully up, his back propped against the wall. Great beads of sweat formed all over him as he slowly pulled his leg to a more natural angle. He coughed and answered, “Because you need me.”
“I need you?” She laughed. “I need you! There is nothing I need less than you at the momen
t, boy. In fact, I truly believe your death will bring me the greatest pleasure yet.”
“No.” He gasped and coughed again. “No, it will be quite—quite the opposite, I assure you.”
Aleyna, seizing her opportunity while the witch was distracted, silently rose upon shaking feet, her dizziness overwhelming every other sense for a moment before she could grasp her equilibrium and stand straight.
“What is it, Prince?” asked the witch, humored more than she cared to admit. “What could you possibly say to me that would spare your life?” She knelt down in front of him and traced one finger down his broken leg—the shock causing him to flinch, his whole body spasmed with a jolt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EZRALON WATCHED MICHAEL FALL head on into the surge of beasts, his sword clashing with the might of twenty men. George attempted to stand, but could only do so whilst leaning against the wall for balance, however the creatures had not noticed him yet and instead swirled in great swarms, their sharp teeth ripping, as they climbed under and upon the unicorn.
He reared upon his hind legs, the animals gripping their claws to hang on as he beat several with his hooves and flipped even more off of him, but it was a never ending mass of confusion—as he rid himself of one vicious beast another six or seven would take its place.
After several minutes their slashing and scraping began to take its toll and the great beast felt himself sway against the loss the blood and continual wounds. He was about to collapse, his breathing too labored, his pain phenomenal, when George burst through the crowd of feral monsters in a great shout of fury and adrenaline and began slaying them in tens and twenties.
Their shrieks filled the castle walls in a deafening piercing. Disoriented and dazed, Ezralon forced himself to stand more fully. He could not begin to imagine the pain George must be in as he attempted to save his life—turning about, he could see the boy standing in the midst of them all, several latched on and biting his wounded legs, while his arms swung wildly about removing as many as he could from around the unicorn.
“Ezralon, run!” he shouted above the din. “Go, the queen and Darién will have nothing if they lose you, you must save yourself. Go!”
“They will eat you alive.”
“Better me than you!”
“Ullieh! Michael!”
Both men looked sharply to the right as Humphrey arrived, raising his sword high, and entered into the fray shouting out an old Alemade war chant as he swung wildly killing many and coming to the struggling king’s aid.
Neither George or Ezralon had seen the king’s efforts until that moment, both were so preoccupied with their own battles to stay alive they could barely focus on themselves in the mass chaos.
“Come together, all of us! Come together and we will act as a shield for ourselves against these creatures!” Ezralon called out, trying to get his voice above the din of their howls and screeching.
Humphrey repeated the order, “Ezralon says that we must all come together. I fear he is right. Come men, stand collectively and form a circle. Perhaps we might have a chance then!”
As quickly as possible the weary and ragged group worked their thrashing and skills to unite them together providing as much protection as possible. However, the massive sea of beasts still had not ceased entering the castle. So many were pouring in every second, it would seem it was only a matter of time before they would all be eaten alive.
***
Aleyna crept toward Darién’s sword, her chains moving across the dirty mud-sludged floor in a soft hush. Her heart pounded as cold stark fear laced its way into her bones.
Darién grunted in pain loudly, but hoped it would also serve to distract the sorceress. “Can you not tell why you need me more than you realize?”
She grabbed his distorted leg just above the knee. “Spit it out, boy! Tell me what you are thinking or I will end this charade now!” Her fingers clenched over the soft tissues, crushing the bones in a sickening crunch.
Darién yelped out in agony, his whole body convulsing under her touch.
In the confusion, Aleyna seized her moment and grabbed the sword swiftly, moving stealthily toward the witch.
For a moment, Darién met her gaze above Villeria’s hair and shook his head in an emphatic ‘no’ gesture, before his eyes squeezed shut and he howled again—the crunching sound louder this time.
Aleyna was going to be ill; she swayed slightly before finding her center of gravity again. One more step and she would be above the sorceress. This must end. This must end now. With trembling arms she raised the sword above the witch and took a long silent breath. She was terrified; she had never been more distraught than this moment. To kill someone—did she have it in her to actually kill someone? She did not know, but she could not sit by and watch Villeria destroy another person she loved. Not now, not ever again. She must do this—or her whole life would be one distorted death after another, Villeria would never stop until the curse was fulfilled. She had to stop her. Bravely, Aleyna took the last step, determined to plunge the sword into the witch’s back, she raised it high above her head and in her swiftness forgot to move slowly enough to silence the chains.
***
The beasts swarmed the small band and many of them jumped upon Michael, so many he could not keep his balance and was falling under their weight.
“No! You will not take my king!” George sprung to his aid, flinging the numerous creatures off of him until Michael could stand on his own again. However, it proved to be George’s downfall. The fiends immediately began to attack his legs again with a vengeance—ripping great shreds from him—and without the wall for support, George fell. The others tried to grasp his hand and save him, but there were too many creatures. He was taken and gone as soon as his head hit the ground. His last words were, “For my country, for my king, for my God—I am one.” The famous words of an Alemadian hero.
Ezralon watched the other men flinch, biting back their horror, but there was nothing anything of them could do—they had to keep battling the demons or they would all meet the same fate.
A great surge of monsters entered the castle then, perhaps the last of the crowd, and a swell of them formed to rise up and fall upon Ezralon. Their teeth too sharp, their claws too expert, he hooves began to slip as the other men fought valiantly around him to keep the great unicorn standing; however it was proving difficult and he could feel himself sliding farther and farther down. “It is done. I am gone,” he mumbled just before his back legs gave out with a thud.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE CHAINS RATTLED LOUDLY a second before Aleyna plunged the sword, causing Villeria to turn and the blade plummet itself directly through the witch’s left shoulder, heart and kidney.
Aleyna collapsed upon the ground, landing with a thud on her bum; she had not the strength to even remove the blade, nor to defend herself had she needed to.
But Villeria’s vile shrieks ricocheted through the room causing more bewilderment and pain to the dizzy girl—she really would be ill if the witch did not stop this instant.
Thankfully the howling ceased and became faint whimpers.
When the sorceress collapsed, allowing the view of her prince to be unobstructed, Aleyna could see Darién’s amazed smile for the first time.
He leaned forward into Villeria’s ear and he said quite simply, “You needed me to live, because I was the only one who could remove Aleyna. She is mine, she has always been mine and always will be. Without me, you would have never won anyway.”
“She should have been mine!” she hissed on a whisper. “She could have been the—” Villeria squeezed her eyes shut and hacked out a small pool of blood onto the ground. She never did speak again. Her final breaths were just wheezes as she was taken from this earth—her body shriveling before them both in a swirling sea of blue-green mists that faintly traced the floor after she was gone.
Instantly Aleyna’s shackles dissolved as well.
They had won.
The sil
ence was deafening, it took a moment for Darién to comprehend there was no roaring above them either.
“You did well, my queen.” Not being able to move, he held an arm out for her.
Aleyna half-sobbed in relief, pushed her hair out of her face and quickly crawled into his arms. Her nose pressed against his shoulder.
“You are alive.” The first of many tears made its way down her dirty cheek. “I did not think you would be alive when this was all over.”
“Shh…” He rubbed her back. “Yes, I am here—I am still here. I promised you I would not leave you alone.”
“Yes, but I did not believe you.” She began to sob.
“Aleyna, Aleyna, my dear, do not cry. It is I who should be relieved. You saved my life.”
“No.” She shook her head and burrowed deeper into his shoulder.
“No?” He looked down at her messy hair and grinned. “No? It was not you who killed the witch just now? Not your expertise and superb swordsmanship?”
“No,” she mumbled.
“My dear, you were wonderful. Thank you.” He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.”
She sniffled a bit more and then turned slightly within his arms, her head resting against his neck. “If it was not for you, I would have never been free. You released me—you braved the legend and came here and did everything in your power to save me. I am free; I am no longer a prisoner to an enchantment because of you. I owe you everything.”
“Well therein lies quite a problem.”
She pulled slightly away. “There is a problem?”
“I may have freed you, my dear one—” his gaze caressed her worn features, “—but you have forever captured my heart.”
