My heart felt like it was crumbling inside my chest. He did warn me. “I didn’t think he was King.”
“And I didn’t think anyone from the nobility could be worthy of your trust.” Philippe stepped closer. “Move on from this nonsense. Whatever happened back there? It was merely a political alliance. Don’t lose your friendship with Amelia on top of everything else.”
“I don’t blame Amelia.” I hated the bitter tone in my voice, though.
“Good. Blame the overgrown liar.”
“Mother Superior warned me against emotion. I should have listened to her too.”
“Stop blaming yourself. This is how noble families are, Elea. His kind doesn’t feel the way other people do. You and me? We’re pawns on a chessboard.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face. Our swim together. Those kisses. The way Rowan eyed me in the tavern bedroom. Those weren’t the acts of someone who was playing games. Still, it didn’t make the situation any less impossible. “Whatever he was doing, it’s all over now.”
“That’s the spirit.” Philippe offered me his arm. “Now, come dance with me.”
A familiar voice reverberated through the marble room. “Give us a moment, Philippe.” I’d know that deep tone anywhere. I could hear him speaking other words. Asking me to trust him. To believe in him.
It was Rowan.
Philippe set my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, your Highness. Elea and I are due to dance.”
Rowan’s voice lowered. “I’ve asked them to hold off on dances for a time. Please excuse us. I must speak with Elea alone.”
Philippe turned to me. “Is this all right?”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I merely nodded again. Philippe released my hand and bowed to Rowan—or Rex—whoever he was. Soon, the two of us were alone.
Bit by bit, I forced myself to meet Rowan’s gaze. His eyes were dark and his mouth grim. Again, I wasn’t happy that I could read his emotions so well. I still knew exactly what this face meant. Guilt.
This was no misunderstanding. Anger heated my blood. “You lied to me.”
“I had reasons. I can’t speak of them now. Where is the Vicomte?”
“What?” I couldn’t understand what I was hearing. “You asked me to trust you. You said we’d be together. Now, I see you get engaged to another woman and all you have to say to me is ‘where’s the Vicomte?’”
He stepped closer. “I have reasons, Elea. It’s important.”
And I’m not.
“He’s dead. I killed him.”
Rowan rubbed his neck. “You didn’t.”
“Would you have preferred that I die? There wasn’t a lot of choice at the time.”
He gripped my shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”
“Go to hell.”
“Trust me, I’m there. But I’m still responsible for the lives of millions of people.” His eyes were wild with worry. “Tell me what happened. Please.”
“The vortex watch got charged with my Necromancer power. The Vicomte tried to steal it. He failed. The man’s worm fodder now.”
“So, you have the vortex watch? May I see it?”
The vortex watch. Yet another thing that was more important to Rowan than the topic of getting engaged to someone else. Millions of lives better be at stake, or I know one lying Caster who’ll be losing his own. I gritted my teeth, lifted the device from my pocket, and placed it on his palm. A tiny jolt of connection erupted as our skin brushed. How I hated my body for still craving him.
Rowan flipped over the small device. “There are no markings. Nothing about the sword.”
“The Sword of Theodora? Is that what you’re looking for?”
Rowan didn’t answer, and my understanding for his plight faded. He’d lied to me about so many things already. At this point, I was betting the only thing at risk was Rowan’s sword collection. “Answer me.”
“Yes, that’s what the treaty was all about. A wedding with Amelia in exchange for the sword. The Vicomte knows where it is.”
My hands balled into fists. “You and your damned weapons.” I hope they keep you warm at night, because the gods know, I won’t. I turned toward the door.
“Where are you off to?”
I stared at him for a long moment. He was a liar, but he had a small army of guards at his call, and I needed to get those Necromancers out of the dungeon. “I found the lost Necromancers. They’re weak and injured.” I forced the next words past my lips. “I came here to ask your help in evacuating them.”
“Of course. How many are down there?”
“A few dozen.”
Rowan stalked toward the open archway that led back to the ballroom and let out a low whistle. When Rowan returned, he had Jakob alongside him. I’d met the man before; he was one of Rowan’s guards. We’d had our differences in the past, however we’d moved past that.
Jakob eyed me with open contempt. “Elea. I should have known you’d be delaying Rowan in doing his duties.”
Then again, he could still hate me.
“Depends on how you define duty, Jakob.”
“Enough.” Rowan focused on Jakob. “There are two dozen Necromancers in the dungeons under this mansion. I need them taken to safety as quickly as possible. Find the Caster guards on perimeter patrol. Round them up, cast a low-level tracking spell, and rescue the mages. They may have cast some wards. Break them. I’ll catch up with you shortly. Elea and I still have things to discuss.”
“No, we don’t.” Still, I didn’t walk out the door.
Jakob bowed slightly at the waist. “As you command.” He slipped out the side exit and off into the night.
Rowan focused his attention on me. “We need to talk.”
“First, I need that watch.” I held out my hand, and he reset the device onto my palm. I was proud that I managed the transfer without touching him at all. Something to get used to, I supposed.
The floor shook with another tremor. This was the worst one yet. Rowan frowned. “These have been happening all night. I’m told it’s normal for this area.”
“I’m not so sure.” I knelt down and set my palm against the floor. The stone was cool to the touch. The tremor was still there. An assessor spell would tell me if the threat was real. Closing my eyes, I reached out with my mage senses, searching for fresh magick. A thin trickle of power moved through me.
“What are you trying to cast?”
“Assessor spell.” I shot him a cold look. “When I fought the Vicomte, I tired myself out. It’s taking a while to pull in enough energy.”
Rowan knelt at my side. “Let me try.”
I glanced toward the open archway. “We don’t want to attract Fantomes.”
“I’ll keep my levels low. They won’t sense a thing.” He set his palm against the floor. The veins in his right hand glowed red with magick. Rowan whispered a low incantation. He was increasing the power of the spell. It wasn’t a good sign.
“What do you see?”
“The gateway. Someone’s trying to break through.”
“It’s the Tsar.”
“Why now?”
That’s right. I’d forgotten that Casters didn’t use totem rings. I raised the device I still held in my palm. “The gateway starts to open when the totem ring is fully charged? It’s not a coincidence. I think the Tsar set this all up as a back door to leave the Eternal Lands. It’s not an easy kind of magick to manage, but—” My insides twisted with worry.
“The Tsar has done all sorts of things that aren’t easy.” Rowan scrubbed his hands over his face. “My spell showed immense underground damage. If he breaks through that gateway, the entire foundation of this place could collapse. Not to mention whatever he plans to do when he breaks free.”
“Ada.” I rose and strode toward the exit. No way was I leaving them to die underground.
Rowan grabbed my upper arm. “You still can’t cast well, Elea. Let me go after your Sisters.”
“No.”
The floor rocked again, onl
y more violently this time. My head felt stuffed with cotton and my body hollow. I really was in no condition to go scouring dungeons. Perhaps Rowan had a point. “I’ll evacuate the castle.”
At this point, more words were useless, so I turned on my heel and headed back to the ballroom. Amelia was there, standing alongside the Baron and Baroness. Just the people I needed to talk to in order to get everyone to safety. I could only hope that Ada, Veronique, and the others would get out as well. Much as I hated this fact, keeping them alive meant trusting the man who’d just broken my heart.
29
I’d barely set foot inside the ballroom when the stone floor buckled beneath my feet. Long cracks formed in the pristine white walls. Plaster tumbled from the ceiling. Screams erupted all around.
That was when I noticed it. The ceiling beams had broken through the plaster. Now, a handful of them hung at an odd angle. The heavy wooden timbers shook, ready to drop at any second. My breath caught.
Amelia was standing right under them.
I pulled magick into me. The room was heavy with memory, but none of it would flow into my limbs. I was still too weak from the battle with the Vicomte.
The beams teetered above Amelia’s head. Her gaze flicked from side to side as she watched the crowd erupt into chaos around her. She had no idea of the danger.
I ran forward without thinking. The ballroom around me became a blur of movement. All I saw was Amelia as I closed in on her. A great crack sounded above me. The beams broke free. My friend seemed impossibly far away. Panic tightened every muscle in my body.
No, not Amelia.
I lunged forward with my arms outstretched. At the last possible second, I pushed Amelia to safety.
A loud crunch sounded as one of the beams fell on my leg instead. Pain shot through my limb. Amelia and Philippe rushed to my side.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Amelia fanned herself with her hands. “Now, what are we going to do? The castle is falling apart. We can’t leave you here to die!”
Philippe straightened his shoulders. “We’ll get help.”
“Don’t. Now that the support beams are coming down, the whole building isn’t far behind. I’m a Necromancer. I can heal myself and escape.” Or I could, once I had time to recover from my battle with the Vicomte. I grabbed Amelia’s hand. “You need to go.”
Amelia gripped my hand more tightly. “We won’t leave you.”
Fresh chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling. “I’ll be better able to cast if I know you’re safe.” The floor buckled and rolled again. More screams sounded. “Go. I’m begging you.”
“No. I can’t lose you, Elea. Not after Veronique.”
“You will lose me if I can’t focus and cast.”
Philippe gently wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulder. “Come along, Amelia.” With careful movements, he rushed his sister through the fleeing throng. I watched them leave and exhaled. They’ll be safe. Now, all I needed to do was cast a transport spell and this nightmare would be over. Wetness crawled up my thigh as blood pooled in my gown. The massive beam lay over my leg. My head felt woozy on my shoulders. I didn’t have much time.
Closing my eyes, I called on every bit of my training to focus past the pain. This spell had to be my greatest yet. Gritting my teeth, I reached out with my mage senses. Once again, the air felt heavy with memory and power. I tried to drag some of it into me.
Nothing came.
I pressed my hands against the heavy beam. It didn’t budge. The room was all but empty now. The Fantomes were still nowhere to be seen. For the first time, I wished they’d show themselves. Being captive would at least get me out of here.
I closed my eyes and pulled at the magick once more. Every part of me felt empty and weak. This was hopeless. The thought appeared in my mind. I was really about to die. The walls trembled more violently than ever.
My pulse sped. I cupped my hand by my mouth. “Help!”
Across the room, Rowan burst through the last of the Royals pressing their way out the door. “Elea!”
Some small part of me was thrilled that he’d returned. Most of me was still angry as hell. I’d rather bleed to death under this beam than be rescued by Rowan. “What are you doing here? I asked you to help the Necromancers.” I pointed to the exit door.
“The Casters are gathering them up. They’re fine.” With his heavy stride, he tore across the ballroom floor. “You’re the one in need of aid.” He knelt by my side. The ballroom wobbled. Long cracks formed in the stone floor. Some of the Royals screamed as they shoved one another aside in the rush to escape. Rowan’s gaze met mine. The intensity in his green eyes was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. “I know you’ve every reason to turn me away. Let me help you.”
The rest of the chaos faded away until there was just Rowan and me. Yes, he was a lying bastard. Even so, he’d returned to ensure I was safe, and I believed he felt something for me. Maybe I still did for him, too? Mother Superior always said that people think anger is the opposite of caring. That’s not the case. Indifference, not hate, is the opposite of love. And I did not feel indifferent to Rowan. Talk about a confusing relationship.
“Please, Elea.”
Suddenly, my plan to bleed out in defiance of Rowan seemed a little ill conceived. “All right.”
Rowan heaved the wooden beam off my leg. Agony ripped up my thigh. I hissed in a breath through clenched teeth. Rowan reached for my leg, and I shifted away as another kind of pain tore through me.
It wasn’t my smartest plan, but I didn’t want his warm hands anywhere near me. “Don’t touch me.”
“Your leg is crushed, Elea. You know how Caster magick works. I have to touch you to heal you.”
The ground rumbled beneath us. Plaster dust swirled through in the air.
The Tsar.
I balled my hands into fists. “All right.”
“This won’t take long. I saved up some power from my last spell.” Rowan knelt at my side and glanced pointedly at my thigh. “You remember how this works?”
I nodded. How can I forget? For the healing to work, Rowan had to touch my bare skin.
Rowan quickly pulled up my skirts and set his hands on my naked thigh. His palms were warm and rough all at once. Gods-damn him. His touch felt wonderful. His low voice rumbled an incantation. “Touch, help, heal.”
More warmth radiated out from his palms, setting every inch of my skin on fire. Only this time, the heat wasn’t painful. I pressed my lips together, stifling the urge to moan. When Rowan began lifting his hands, it took everything I had not to ask him to stop.
Our gazes met once again. This was, without question, one of the strangest moments in my already-odd life. I was in a ballroom, dressed in a bloody gown. The Tsar could break through to our realm any second. The other partygoers had rushed out toward safety while I sat here with Rowan. He ran his hand up my bare leg. “Good as new.”
I made a great show of looking at my leg. The skin was red and swollen. Still, it wasn’t the mass of broken bone and blood that I’d seen before. “Looks better.” I tried to stand and pain shot down my side. “Doesn’t feel perfect, though.”
“Give it a few minutes.” Rowan scooped me into his arms and held me against his chest. “I’ll help you reach the gardens. By the time we get there, the spell will have finished its work. You should be strong enough to both walk and cast spells again.” He pressed me closer.
A dozen emotions streamed through my heart at once. Love. Loathing. Betrayal. Gratitude. In the end, I said the only thing a girl could in this situation. “I really hate you right now.”
“You’ve every right to. Whatever you may think, I love you, Elea. I have from the first time I saw you. You need to—”
“Elea! You’re free from that horrible beam!” Amelia rushed across the ballroom floor to pause at our side. Her face glowed with joy as she rushed up to Rowan’s side. Philippe followed behind. His blue eyes were dark with anger.
Amelia grabbed
Rowan’s arm. “Look, Philippe! Rex saved Elea.” She stared up at Rowan adoringly. “I told you all about her. That’s why you returned, isn’t it? To make sure my dear friend was safe?” She eyed Rowan’s hold on me. “That’s why you’re carrying her… And everything. Right?”
Philippe folded his arms over his chest. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
Rowan’s face became unreadable. For once, I didn’t mind that one bit. Right now was no time to reveal the true nature of my relationship with Rowan. I gestured toward the exit. “We need to get out of here. The Tsar might break free any minute. If that happens, this place could very well implode.”
“Now that my dear sister is certain that Elea is safe, we do need to go.” Philippe stepped closer to me and lowered his voice. “No need to discuss things that are best left in the past.”
Philippe’s meaning was clear. I should move on from Rowan and leave Amelia to her illusions.
Rowan glared at Philippe. “Some things are always in the future.”
The floor rumbled once more. Great cracks ran up the walls. A jolt of worry went up my neck. “Can we have this discussion another time?”
“Agreed,” said Philippe. A sheen of sweat had broken out along his forehead. “Come along, sister.”
Amelia gripped Rowan’s arm even harder. “My fiancée and I should go together.”
“And you’ll be sick of him soon enough,” said Philippe. “But there’s a very good reason we need to leave separately now.” He looked at me pleadingly. “Isn’t there, Elea?”
The answer appeared in a flash. “Yes, I have great news! We found Veronique. She’s out in the gardens with Rowan—I mean, Rex’s—people. She only wants to see you, though.”
Amelia clasped her hands under her chin. “She’s alive?”
Philippe frowned. “She is?” I’d forgotten how Philippe wasn’t exactly Veronique’s greatest supporter.
“She is absolutely alive.” My eyes prickled with tears. After so long, it felt wonderful to say those words. “Go find her.”
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