Lost Princess

by Dani-Lyn Alexander

  Grateful for a moment of stillness, Jackson sat next to the opening. Pressing his back against the wall, he reached for the well of energy in his core. A small spark of heat ignited but rapidly diminished. His body wasn’t ready yet. But he’d have to start to heal soon, or he wasn’t going to make it out of these tunnels.

  Dampness seeped into his bones, leaching the small amount of heat he’d managed. He shivered, shoved away from the wall, and surged to his feet. Faltered. He pressed a hand against the wall to steady himself.

  Somewhere in the distance, or perhaps closer, the sound amplified by the stone walls, a door screeched open. Then fell shut with a clang. Something snorted. Whoa. That was too close. He straightened away from the wall and grabbed the flail he’d left on the floor.

  Ranger stood at his side.

  “Hey.”

  Jackson only spared a quick glance down at the opening before returning his attention to his surroundings. “Couldn’t find anything?”

  Noah shot him a look, then climbed from the tunnel, dagger in hand. “Oh, I found something, but she wouldn’t come out ahead of me. She’s coming behind me.”

  The glance he shot over his shoulder as he climbed to his feet told Jackson exactly how he felt about that. Jackson wouldn’t have wanted a stranger at his back crawling through enemy territory either.

  A tangled mess of blond emerged from the tunnel opening. What the…Blondes were unusual in Cymmera, but not as much in Argonas. If this woman was from Argonas, why would she be a prisoner?

  Daygan had never imprisoned his own citizens. Of course, Daygan didn’t have to. They all feared him too much to disobey his orders. And Daygan wasn’t in charge any more.

  The woman stood. Not really a woman, but no child either. A teenager maybe. It was hard to tell. The torn gown she wore covered a frail frame, gaunt shoulders, protruding ribs. Her hollow cheeks and the dark rings circling her eyes gave her a vulnerable look Jackson hesitated to trust. Fresh tearstains tracked through a thick layer of dirt and grime covering her face.

  “What’s your name?”

  The girl eyed him warily, her emerald, cat-like eyes taking in the injuries he’d sustained. Suspicion deepened the shade of green. She swiped the tears away. Raw scratches and blood covered her delicate hands.

  This girl had been there a long time.

  The pounding of the footsteps was coming closer, vibrating the stone floor.

  The girl cowered against the wall, ducked toward the tunnel she’d emerged from.

  Noah stopped her, barring her way with his arm, and swung the stones back into place. The small click echoed through the tunnel like a shotgun blast.

  “We don’t have much time. What is your name?”

  Ranger stepped forward. “Look, we don’t want to hurt you. We’re getting our friend out of here, and we’re willing to take you with us. Unless you’d rather get out on your own?”

  Fear widened her eyes, and she shook her head violently. A tremor rocked her. “Payton.” The whisper was nothing but the slightest wisp of sound. She swallowed and tried again, gaze darting frantically around the tunnel. “I’m Payton.”

  “All right, Payton—”

  Rhythmic grunting followed by the sound of something big scratching against stone.

  Jackson worked to keep his voice from faltering. “Do you know a way out?”

  Payton stared into his eyes. Turbulence churned in her gaze. She hesitated, then lifted a trembling hand and pointed in the direction the sounds were coming from.

  Figures. “Come on.” He put an arm gently around her shoulder, careful not to apply too much pressure to any of her wounds, hoping to ease her fear a bit as he guided her in front of him. He released her when she winced and shied away. “You lead, and point when we need to change direction. Okay?”

  She nodded, averting her gaze.

  A small bit of admiration for Noah surfaced. No way he’d have crawled through that tunnel with this girl at his back. He’d have shoved her through ahead of him if he had to, but he wouldn’t have taken his eyes off her.

  Hell, maybe Noah wasn’t that brave after all, just really stupid. For some reason, the thought brought comfort.

  Payton moved forward, tentative at first, with Ranger and Noah on either side of her.

  Jackson lagged behind. He searched again for any residual energy he could tap to begin the healing process. Nothing. His legs trembled, the strain of holding his weight more than they could bear. He paused. Bent at the waist. Propped his hands on his knees and waited for the haze to clear from the corners of his vision. It didn’t.

  “You all right?” Ranger squatted at his side, placed a hand on his shoulder.

  He nodded.

  A door slammed against a wall. Close. Too close.

  Jackson tightened his grip on the flail, flexed his hand around the sword handle, making sure his hands were agile enough to fight.

  Soft mewling sounds echoed as Payton crouched against the wall, making as small a target of herself as possible.

  They had to hide. But where? They could return to the torture chamber and hide somewhere in the mess. He glanced over his shoulder. No. No way he’d go back there. He’d fight to the death where he stood before he’d go back into that room.

  Payton crawled along the floor, pressing against the stones every foot or two. What was she—?

  Jackson dropped to his knees beside her. “Do you know a way out?”

  She nodded once and kept searching.

  Suspicion crept in. He grabbed her arm, forced her to stop and face him. “Then why didn’t you try to escape?”

  Steel hardened her eyes, replacing some of the fear.

  “I did.” A shudder ran through her, and she pulled her arm from his grip and continued her search. “Twice.”

  He moved a little farther down the tunnel, pressed a hand against the stone.

  Noah pulled his swords, braced for battle.

  Ranger gripped his sword in one hand and moved along the opposite wall of the tunnel, using the toe of his boot to push against the stones every couple of steps.

  Shoving the sweat drenched hair out of his face, Jackson surged to his feet and leaned his back against the cool stone. Fever burned within him, but he lacked the strength to fight it.

  A small gasp caught his attention. Payton jerked her hand away as a small section of stones pushed open.

  Pressure against his eardrums made Jackson straighten. His ears popped as the portal opened.

  A guard lunged through, knife already arcing toward Noah’s back.

  Jackson took one step forward, impaling the soldier with Ryleigh’s sword as he moved.

  Noah ducked to the side and shot Jackson a silent look of gratitude, then dove through the narrow tunnel entrance with Payton on his heels.

  Jackson slid the sword free and, with a boot to the man’s chest, shoved him back through the portal as it closed.

  Ranger gestured for Jackson to precede him.

  He shook his head. He barely had the energy to move. With no idea how far the tunnel went, whether it inclined or wove through the underground maze endlessly, he couldn’t go first. If he couldn’t make it through, Ranger would be trapped behind him, and Noah and Payton would be ahead of him, with no help if they walked into an ambush.

  Footsteps pounded through the tunnels. A lot of footsteps.

  Ranger glared at him and pointed toward the opening.

  “You go. I’ll be right behind you.” He struggled to steady his voice, inject confidence and strength. “It’s an order, Ranger.”

  The other man shook his head. At the screech of metal just around the next curve in the tunnel, he plunged into the darkness.

  Jackson followed, toeing the stone door closed behind him as he shimmied deeper into the tight shaft, pulling himself forward with his elbows, pushing the sword and flail ahead of him. No way he’d release his hold on the weapons. Dust and dirt invaded his nose and
mouth. Pebbles scattered along the dirt floor scratched and tore at his already injured flesh. He belly crawled forward in complete blackness, would have thought he was alone if not for the harsh breaths and occasional curse.

  His shoulders screamed in protest, the burn nearly incapacitating. He couldn’t keep his arms above his head much longer, yet the shaft was too tight to allow him the relief of lowering them even for a moment. He couldn’t take it anymore.

  He stopped, folded his arms above his head, and dropped his face into the dirt. Then turned it to the side just enough to breathe the stale air. He closed his eyes, not that it mattered. The darkness suffocated him.

  Silence descended.

  I can’t do it, Ryleigh. I tried so hard. Fought with every ounce of my being to make it back to you, my love. Forgive me for being too weak.

  Giving up is weak.

  Confusion gripped him. Ryleigh? Her voice sounded so close. Was it only in his mind?

  Of course, it was.

  He sucked in a mouthful of dirt and choked.

  Get up. Her scowl etched itself in his mind, the vision unwavering.

  He smiled.

  Her frown softened. Please. A single tear clung to her thick lower lashes. Tipped over and slid down her cheek. I need you.

  The plea touched him in a way the command couldn’t. Warmth ignited in his heart.

  He lifted his head. Dug his toes into the dirt and shoved. The movement was barely perceptible, but he did make progress. A fraction of an inch at a time, he dragged himself forward. Toward Ryleigh.

  He rounded a curve in the shaft. A flicker of orange light. Hallucination? He clawed his way through the dirt, his shoulders screaming in protest. His chest and stomach on fire. Stones and dirt embedding themselves in his injuries.

  He reached for the image of Ryleigh, clung desperately to his burning need to touch her. To be with her. To claim her.

  Blackness. Had the light only been a mirage after all?

  A savage battle cry rose in the distance. Behind him. Coming closer.

  He tightened his grip on the weapons.

  Two hands grabbed his wrists, dragged him forward.

  He struggled, but lacked the strength to fight in the cramped quarters. Better to wait until they had more room.

  Light assailed him.

  “Do you have him?”

  “Yeah. Pull.” Ranger and Noah pulled Jackson from the narrow opening and laid him on the stone floor, then wedged a large stone back into place over the hole.

  Ranger bent over him. “Are you all right?”

  Healing warmth began in his chest, weaved through his heart, his lungs.

  The foul air clogged his lungs, gagging him. His stomach heaved, and he rolled onto his side. Something crunched beneath him.

  “I can’t heal him here.”

  Noah rubbed a hand over his head, leaving a trail of dirt and grime across his hair. “Can you heal him at all?”

  Ranger shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. I really need to get him to Kiara.”

  “Kiara?” Noah crouched at Jackson’s side, rested an elbow on his knee, and cupped his chin in his hand.

  “She’s our strongest healer. If anyone can help him at this point, she can.” Heat emanated from Ranger’s hand as he smoothed it across Jackson’s back. “All of the damage appears to be…physical. He was beaten severely, impaled, but I don’t think they used magic.” Ranger stood and paced the small chamber.

  Jackson had no idea where they were, could only see a small area around him and a stone floor. He didn’t get the sense of a large space, so he figured they might be in a small chamber. He turned over onto his back and stared up at the curved ceiling. Water dripped from a crack in the wall.

  Noah stood facing Ranger. “What do you want to do?”

  With a quick glance at Jackson, Ranger wiped a hand over his face before returning his attention to Noah. “It’s not hard to open a portal. I’ll explain it to you. I want you to take Payton and get out of here. As soon as you’re away from the castle and into the woods, you’ll be able to summon the doorway.”

  Noah didn’t budge. He held Ranger’s gaze, stood toe to toe with him. “Not happening. Plan B?”

  “Look, I can’t heal him here, and I’m not leaving my king behind. Or my friend.”

  Noah looked at Jackson and rolled his eyes. “Well, he may not be my friend, but he just saved my life, and since I pledged loyalty to Cymmera, I guess he’s my king too.” He shrugged. “Think of something else.”

  Ranger resumed his pacing.

  A small, tentative voice halted him midstride.

  “I know a way.” Payton sat with her back against the wall, knees pulled to her chest.

  “What?”

  She ran her tongue over dry, cracked lips. “I followed Thaddeus one day. I know a way out.” Her voice was barely more than a hoarse croak.

  Noah propped his hands on his hips. “Then why haven’t you used it?”

  Maybe the kid wasn’t as dumb as Jackson originally thought.

  “He caught me.”

  “Who, Chayce?”

  “Daygan.” A tremor shook her tiny frame. She pushed a wad of dirt-crusted hair out of her face. A bit of defiance filled her eyes. “Then Chayce.” She curled into a ball and lowered her head onto her knees.

  Jackson rolled back over onto his side and tried to get his knees beneath him. His hand slid on a small pile of grey straw, and he cracked his chin on the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Ranger’s hand fell on his shoulder.

  “Have to…” He gasped at the sharpness of the pain in his chest. “Find…” He blew the breath out slowly, and kept the next inhalation shallower. “Ryleigh.”

  “All right. Enough.” Ranger’s temper flared. He pointed a finger at Jackson. “You are not going anywhere.” Then pointed to Payton. “And you…are you sure you know the way out of here?”

  She jumped up and ran to the corner of the room, brushed some of the straw aside, and uncovered a wood door set in the stone floor.

  “Fine.” He helped Jackson to his feet. “Let’s go.”

  “I’m not leaving without—”

  Ranger spread his fingers and pressed his hand against Jackson’s head. Magic. He tossed Jackson over his shoulder as blackness claimed him.

  Chapter 12

  Ryleigh crept through the empty corridors, her army behind her. Every scrape of a shoe, clang of a weapon, harsh breath, and cough carried throughout the castle. Stealth an impossibility, every sound amplified by the absolute silence.

  Giving up on furtiveness, they strode as quietly as possible toward the throne room, listening intently.

  Ryleigh sheathed her sword, removed a band from her wrist, smoothed her hair, and tied it back out of her face.

  Dakota rolled his eyes.

  She ignored him, needing this moment to prepare herself to face Chayce, to prepare herself for the possibility they might not be able to find Mia.

  Dakota and his men were confident they could get the information from Chayce, if he was even in the throne room, but Ryleigh had her doubts. Chayce hadn’t gotten where he was by being stupid, or being weak. Maybe they underestimated him. That could be a deadly mistake. For everyone.

  The stench of evil enveloped her. The same as it’d been in the tower. Oh, Mia. I’m so sorry I got you into this.

  Her men fanned out, taking up positions throughout the corridor. Ready for an attack. An ambush that could come at any second from any direction.

  She lacked the strength and courage necessary to lead these men.

  They were strong and brave.

  She was vomiting in a bush because she killed a man who’d given her no choice. Her stomach turned over again, and she quickly dismissed the thought.

  Jackson silhouetted in the stone with is arm around some other woman brought another wave of nausea. Pressing a hand against her roiling stomach, she shied away from
any thoughts of Jackson with someone else. Definitely better not to think about that.

  Images of what might have happened to Mia brought bile straight up her throat and into the back of her mouth. She gagged and swallowed hard.

  Procrastinating served no purpose. Unless she wanted to be sick again. If she wanted to walk in and hurl at Chayce’s feet, she was on the right track.

  Time to move.

  She glanced at Dakota, waiting patiently at her side, and nodded.

  Reaching for her sword, she started forward. Then paused. She wiped her hands, unsheathed her sword, and straightened her back. Now she was ready.

  Two of the men reached for the heavy iron rings on the doors.

  She held up a hand to stop them. Better to have Chayce think she and Dakota had come alone. If he was in there.

  She gripped one of the rings and pulled. The door eased smoothly open.

  Laughter greeted her.

  “Oh, Ryleigh. So predictable.” Chayce’s words barely registered, as her gaze shot to the throne beside him.

  Mia sat, stone still, hands folded in her lap, expressionless.

  Ryleigh struggled to hide her fear but couldn’t fully contain the trembling in her voice. “Mia. Are you all right?” She started toward her.

  Dakota reached out an arm to block her way.

  She glared at him, but he never moved his gaze from Chayce. No. Not Chayce. The gaunt man at his side. She hadn’t even noticed him when they’d entered. Thaddeus. A chill rushed up her spine. The seer gave her the creeps.

  She ignored them both. “Are you all right, Mia?”

  Mia nodded once, the bruises and welts covering her face revealing the lie. Her hair tumbled into her face and covered a black eye, but she made no move to push it away. Tremors rocked her. A long flowing gown covered the rest of her body, its long sleeves hiding her arms and wrists. There was no way to tell how severely injured she was.

  Mia’s gaze shifted from Ryleigh to Dakota. Her mouth quivered once, then firmed into a tight line. Tears shimmered and clung to her lashes but didn’t fall. Her expression remained neutral, her posture stiff.

  Ryleigh shifted her attention to Chayce. “What do you want, Chayce?”

  “Excuse me?” His expression hardened, and all signs of amusement fled.