She was alive.
Power coursed through her veins, and Katy focused it into her legs and feet. Her hands and arms flew up and out with a grace and poise Katy had forgotten she possessed. Closing her eyes, she let herself smile as she spun with renewed vigor. This dance was hers.
The music increased in speed, but so did Katy. She didn’t even have to think about the difficulty of the dance as she poured more and more of her energy into each leap and twirl and bend.
Only when she opened her eyes several minutes later did she see that her change had not been lost on the others either. There were only two dancing now, and though Saraid kept dancing, her eyes were wide with alarm. She glanced around, as though asking for help, but no one moved. The crowd seemed frozen in its place. Katy could feel the air tremble, much as it had the day she’d sensed the olc’s presence, but for once, she didn’t pull back. Instead, she met Saraid’s enraged glare and dared to smile.
Saraid stumbled and fell.
Katy didn’t stop, however, until the music ended. She was enjoying herself far too much. When the music finally was quiet, however, she seemed to be the only one, for the crowd seemed just as confused as Saraid. Still, too invigorated to care, Katy reached down and helped a wary Saraid to her feet.
It was only when she turned to face the throne that Katy began to feel her doubts return. The moment had been exhilarating, but now, judging by the looks of surprise and unease on the faces in the crowd around her, Katy wondered if she’d gone too far. Would they accuse her of her true heritage? Would they treat Peter badly for it?
Would she be put to death?
The room was so silent that the sounds of her slippers could be heard as she padded across the floor. Finally, she reached the throne. Drawing in a full breath, she cast her face down and curtsied deeply. When she dared to look up, the king’s expression reflected that of his people, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.
But Peter’s smile was the widest Katy had ever seen it.
“Well,” he said, his voice low and warm, “it appears we have a new champion.” Extending his right hand, he bowed, and Katy’s breath hitched as he took her hand and his blue eyes locked onto hers. “Now, my lady, would you do me the honor of sharing this dance?”
32
My Choice
Katy didn’t trust herself to speak until Peter had led them out to the center of the floor. It appeared that someone had managed to get Saraid out of the way, as she now stood at the edge of the crowd. Her expression of shock hadn’t changed a bit, though, and Katy almost felt sorry for her.
But not quite.
She needed to talk to Peter. She needed to make the break while she could and no one else was near enough to hear. He needed to hear that she was leaving, and that she was releasing him from his promise. Too much was at stake.
But when she tried to talk, to even speak his name, she found that her voice had fled her. For if Katy had thought him imposing in his armor, she found herself even more in awe as she tried not to stare at him too obviously. He wore a jacket of deep, rich green that was fastened with carved gold buttons that lined the jacket’s diagonal cut across his chest. As if that weren’t enough to draw attention to its breadth, a sash of green, gold, and red was tied across his chest as well. A thick black belt was fastened securely around his trim waist. Below it, the long coat draped down to his thighs over a pair of black trousers. He was still thin, and nowhere nearly as barrel-chested as Sir Briant or Sir Carey, but the hours of training she’d heard so much about had transformed him completely. She could feel his sturdy muscles even through the sleeves and shoulders of his jacket.
The boy who had ridden off from Downing eight years before had vanished completely.
For fear of spending the entire dance staring at his shoulders or chest, Katy forced herself to talk. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” He sounded surprised.
“I probably shouldn’t have done that.” She glanced around. The people had slightly recovered from their shock and were murmuring softly to one another, but the room had not yet regained its celebratory air. “Now they’ll guess what I am.”
“Saraid will be just fine. She’s won more than her fair share of dances. And as to the others, do you know what? I couldn’t care less.”
“Really?”
“Let them think what they want.”
“Peter, I—”
“I mean it.” His voice was firm. “I feel like you’ve been hiding ever since you arrived, like you’re afraid of your own shadow.” His hand tightened on hers. “Tonight is the first time anyone here has had the privilege of seeing the real you.”
Katy opened her mouth to speak, but found she had no words. All she knew was that her heart was squeezing itself into a knot, wishing more than ever before for what couldn’t be. She was too wild, too other. Tomorrow he would be officially crown prince, and under its laws, he would be charged with hunting and killing her kind. But as they twirled in circles and she looked into his eyes, her heart whispered that this was the way it could be. That they might have a chance.
“Father would have been proud of you tonight.” He was smiling that smile again, the one where he cocked his head to the side.
Katy tried to ignore the heat that moved into her hands and cheeks. The compliment should have drawn more pleasure, but for once it fell short, and she was left feeling empty. Maybe Sir Christopher would have been. But was Peter proud of her?
“I’m afraid your peers will disagree with you.” She forced a little laugh. “After all, I am the old maid here tonight. I don’t think I’ve met a girl over nineteen.”
“There is nothing old about you.” His hand pressed a little more firmly against the small of her back, the warmth of it sending shivers up her shoulder blades. And though she feared she was imagining it, he seemed to lean down just a hair closer.
For a brief moment of insanity, Katy wondered what it would feel like to meet his lips. What would he do? Would he be angry? Or was there even the remotest possibility that he just might find himself wanting something more as well?
Katy sighed as he twirled her slowly in a circle again. Not that it mattered. Even if he were attracted to her or saw her as more than a sister, it would only serve to break both their hearts. No, it would be best for them both if she did now what she had come to do. Who knew if she would get another chance after this? Saraid would snatch him away the first opportunity she got for sure.
“Peter,” Katy’s voice caught and her chest grew tight. “I…I’ve made a decision.”
Before she could continue, a splintering crash echoed through the hall. People shrieked and fled as a monstrous vine, thicker than Katy’s waist, slid inside the broken window like a massive thorned serpent.
Peter’s sword was out in a second, and his other hand was pressing her behind him. “Katy, hide.” He kept his voice low and controlled, but Katy could feel the energy hum through him. Around them, guards waved the ball attendees toward the doors. Women screamed, men shouted, and many in their panic tripped and fell, taking their neighbors down with them.
Katy should have run, but her feet were nailed to the floor. As she watched Peter and the other knights, even Antony with his injured arm still in its wrapping, try to surround the great vine, which was now striking the air just above their heads, her hair stood up on the back of her neck, and she was overcome by the sensation of power within the room. Could the others feel it? Or just her?
In response to her question, Peter began to cough. The others glanced at him, but no one could come to his aid. Only then did Katy remember how to move her feet and went sprinting to his side. Before she arrived, however, the vine twisted and came straight at Peter.
Katy screamed, but before she could reach him, Domnhall was there. Instead of piercing Peter’s chest, the vine hit the older knight instead. Before it could recoil and strike again, the other knights were hacking away at it, and the vine began to shrivel and die.
By the time Kat
y reached them, Peter was holding Domnhall in his lap. Knights were shouting for the healer, and the king was standing just behind his nephew, demanding to know if any of the knights had ever seen anything like that monster before.
“Katy, I told you to leave!” Peter’s voice was sharp, but Katy ignored him. Instead, she placed her hand on Domnhall’s chest, beside the wound. When she felt the poison that lay beneath the skin, her heart sank.
“The healers won’t be able to help,” she whispered.
“Why not?” Peter’s eyes were wide. “Katy, have you seen this before?”
“No. But…I can feel it.”
“Feel what, lass?” Briant knelt beside her and took the older knight’s shaking hand.
Katy looked at the remnant of the plant left behind when the vine withdrew and escaped back through the window. Thorns the length of her fingers stuck out all over from it. She put her hand on one of them briefly before yanking her hand back.
“He’s been poisoned with a…something I’ve never seen before. But it’s powerful.” She met Peter’s eyes. “If I don’t help him, he’ll die in minutes.”
“Help him?” Antony glanced at the others. “How do you expect to do that?” He turned back toward the door. “Where is that physician?” he bellowed.
Peter, however, was staring at her miserably. “Is there any other way?” For the first time since they’d been reunited, Katy saw the familiar panic in his eyes, the one she remembered from the boy she’d loved so much. “I can’t protect you if you do this,” he whispered.
“What in the blazes are you talking about?” Antony glared down at them, but Katy only gave him a sad smile.
“He saved your life. I can’t let him die.” She reached out and squeezed Peter’s other hand. “Firin Reaghan promised I was put here for a purpose. Perhaps this is what Atharo put me here for after all.” And without waiting another moment, she placed her hand against the old man’s chest.
The poison swirling around his heart was searing hot, like trying to touch the sun. Fear and peace filled her heart while she strained to gather that heat into her hand. Fear because she was afraid of the dark. This power made her own abilities seem like child’s play. Fear because after this, they would all know without a doubt what she was. Fear because Peter would finally be made to face the truth.
And peace in her newfound purpose. Thank you, Atharo. At least I shall have some honor before leaving this world.
Like a liquid made of metal, the heavy, inky poison slowly began to leave the old knight’s heart, beading up in her hand as she drew it out. Domnhall’s heartbeat slowed to a more normal pace as Katy’s sped, and her fist shook as she tightened her fingers around the handful of liquid death she’d gathered in her palm. She could hear Domnhall gasp as she lifted it away from his chest, but she couldn’t look at him to see whether or not he would survive.
“What is she doing?” Antony’s voice was a dull roar in her ears, but she squeezed her eyes shut and ignored him. So many things she’d destroyed. Too often her power had searched for something to break, to shatter. For the first time in her life, Katy let it flow.
The poison wanted out. She could feel it pulling, aiming toward each beating heart in the room. The palm of her hand felt as though she’d wrapped it around an ember straight from a fire, but she kept her fingers curled tight. Someone behind her was shouting. Then two people. And still she pressed her power against the poison and squeezed.
Just when she felt she could hold it in no more, the liquid became dust. Her fingers trembled as she opened them and the gray powder fell to the floor. Unable to hold herself upright, she, too, collapsed on the ballroom floor and lay there gasping for breath.
At least when they put her to death, she would no longer have the strength to fight. Then she couldn’t hurt anyone even if she tried.
The room went silent. Katy pried her eyes open just enough to see Antony standing above her. His features were twisted with rage, and he shook as he moved the tip of his sword from the plant’s remnants to the hollow of her neck.
33
Promises
In the blink of an eye, Peter was standing above her as well, his sword also raised. Only his sword was pointed at Antony.
“Out of the way, Peter!” In his rage, Antony’s perfect manners slipped, his eyes still trained on Katy with unbelievable hate. “I know you care for her. Let me do this so you don’t have to.”
“You’ll have to kill me first.” Peter’s voice was low and smooth. “And that will be difficult with just one good arm.”
“You saw what she just did! She’s an olc!”
Katy closed her eyes and waited for Peter’s breathing to hitch, for him to turn and look at her with eyes that were finally open like everyone else’s had been all along. Instead, however, he answered in the same calm voice.
“I know.”
Katy’s eyes flew open once again, but she couldn’t see his face as he was still standing guard over her.
“You know?” the king sputtered. “And you brought her here?”
“I brought her here because I know she is good. My father believed she has a greater purpose, one that only Atharo could have orchestrated.” He raised his sword slightly. “And so do I.”
Katy expected scoffs of derision at the reference to Atharo, but to her surprise, only Benjamin let out a snort. The other knights and the king only stared at their prince with furrowed brows.
The healer burst through the doors, along with a few guards and a woman Katy believed to be Domnhall’s wife. As soon as he had been gathered up and gently placed on a long sedan that the guards then carried out, everyone’s attention returned to Katy.
“My father never told me what she was, but I grew up with her. I know her nature as well as I know my own,” Peter said. “And I know that this girl saved my life on more than one occasion.” He gestured at the door and turned to speak directly to his uncle. “She exposed herself to save one of our own. Doesn’t that merit any favor?”
“I told you,” Antony hissed, his dark eyes losing none of their loathing, “their magic changes them! It always does!” He nodded sharply at Katy. “With her age, she will be changing any day now!”
“Peter.” The king’s voice was less harsh than Antony’s, but his face showed no sign of relenting. “There is the law to remember.”
“And what if the law is wrong?” Peter shot back.
“There is a reason for the law.”
“She’s never hurt anyone! She has spent her life hiding to make sure everyone around her stays safe!”
“Is that true, Katrin?”
Katy stared blankly at the king as he turned to her.
“Have you ever hurt anyone with your power?”
Katy wanted so badly to say no. If only you had kept me from myself, she prayed silently. A surprising amount of anger was stirred up for Atharo as she bit her lip. She knew what Peter wanted her to say, what he needed her to say. But to answer as such would be a lie, one that she would regret as much as the act itself.
“Yes,” she whispered. She could feel Peter deflate as he stood above her. “But not on purpose,” she added.
“Who was it?” the king asked. “What happened?”
“I was frightened—”
“That’s how it always happens,” Antony growled.
“Go on, child,” the king said.
Katy swallowed. “We were children. I thought the town was coming after me, so I ran. Peter ran up behind me, but I didn’t know he was there. And when he reached out to take my arm...” She couldn’t finish. For as she spoke, the horrifying memory ran through her mind again and again.
That had been the first day she’d felt it, the fear that drove her power to a near maddening level. The blind anger and the horrifying desire to pour out that anger and frustration on something…anything. And then the awful fleeting feeling of release as she’d turned on whomever had touched her and let her power pass into him.
“Sire,”
Tomas said quietly. “Your arm.”
“Pull back your sleeve, Peter,” his uncle said gently.
But Peter only set his jaw and shook his head.
Without waiting for the king to urge his nephew further, Antony flicked his sword so that it tore Peter’s sleeve in two. The men around them gasped as they saw the sight that had haunted Katy for years. Mottled skin that puckered up in pink fleshy patches stretched from just above his wrist to the elbow.
“It was an accident,” Peter said through his teeth. “Nothing more.”
“They always start as accidents!” Antony cried out, lifting his sword to Katy once more. “You have been blinded by your heart!” His voice fell to a hoarse whisper. “Don’t do as I did and put the kingdom at risk because you care for someone. Give me permission to finish her for you, and in doing so, do your duty to preserve the kingdom!”
Katy stared at the knight. Despite her distress, she couldn’t help being perplexed. What was he talking about?
“What do you have to say for yourself?” the king turned to her and asked in that same quiet voice, his pale eyes pleading with her as he spoke. “Do you have any defense with which we might spare your life?”
Peter stiffened above her, and his back stopped moving with the breaths he should have been taking.
“Peter,” she said softly.
He didn’t respond.
“I’m tired of running,” she said, placing one hand gently on his ankle.
Still, he said nothing. He didn’t even turn to give her the look of betrayal she knew would break her heart. Perhaps it was for the better.
“Peter, I have no choice—” the king began.
“I promised to save her from it,” Peter burst out.
The king’s face went white. “You what?”
The other knights turned to one another and shared a look of horror. Even Antony lost his look of determined hate, and his mouth slipped open.
The Autumn Fairy (The Autumn Fairy Trilogy Book 1) Page 22
