by S. M. Boyce
Braeden tore through the forest and headed for the grottoes. It seemed like the best idea to leave the same way he’d come in, but how could they get past the feihl if they couldn’t even keep from slamming a rusted door closed?
He didn’t really have a choice at this point. He could go to the grottoes or Carden. There was a chance they would survive the grottoes. But after an escape like this, there would never again be a way out of the Cellar.
The grottoes slid into view as he rounded a bend in the trees. He breathed a sigh of relief. A look over his shoulder confirmed that Daowa and the prince of Losse still ran right behind him, but Aurora trailed slightly behind. The horde grew ever closer in the distance.
An arrow shot from the crowd and landed in the rump of Aurora’s horse. The animal bucked, flinging her onto the ground in one motion. She rolled, the horse’s front hooves missing her head by inches. The princess stumbled to find her feet.
Braeden cursed under his breath.
“Climb to the second level, and wait for me once you’re inside a cave!” he shouted to the Lossians. The prince nodded and kicked his horse to go faster.
Braeden turned his mount around and ran to Aurora. Once he reached her, he positioned the animal between her and the approaching mob now only a hundred feet off. Fire whizzed by his head as he offered the princess a hand.
“Come on!”
She reached up as an arrow pierced his shoulder. Braeden screamed in agony. He ripped it out. His vision blurred. Steam pummeled from the pores on his neck and arms. His uniform stretched without him understanding why.
He opened his eyes as the pain receded. A chorus of Stelians yelled from behind him, but he could see only Aurora. Her eyes widened, and she pulled her hand back.
Braeden glanced down at his arms. Steam leapt from his now-gray skin.
He took a deep breath and shifted back into his Hillsidian form. His body shrank, and his skin lightened once more. He didn’t have time to deal with this.
He reached his hand out to the princess. “I’ll explain everything, but you need me to get out of here, and we’re out of time to waste!”
She reached for his hand without answering, her eyes still wide. He pulled her on behind him and looked over his shoulder to make sure she could balance without a saddle. She wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she watched the grottoes’ entrance. Behind her, the horde ran closer.
Aurora leaned closer. “After what Blood Carden did to me, I will never admit to needing a Stelian.”
Braeden turned in his seat to look at her, but too late. She elbowed him in the neck, the force far stronger than he could have imagined. The blow and the surprise of an attack—from her of all living things—sent him onto the ground. She tore off on his horse, leaving him in the dirt.
“Aurora!” he yelled.
He stumbled to his feet to follow, to run, to maybe even hit her, but the horde grabbed him first.
“Welcome back!” one of the soldiers said in his ear.
Braeden punched the guard in the face. Another grabbed his arm, and a third wrapped a rope around his neck. Braeden fought, shirking them as fast as they came.
Someone yelled his name. It was a familiar voice, tense and frightened, and he turned away from the fight despite himself.
A silver creature the size of a small horse but with wings like a dragonfly landed atop the grottoes. It transformed even as he watched, becoming a great, six-legged beast with a long, clubbed tail. A muse—that had to be a muse. The Lossian prince jumped onto the muse’s back and offered his mother a hand. Only then did Braeden see the person who had screamed his name.
Kara.
No, she can’t be here!
A guard’s head blocked his view of her. Braeden punched the Stelian in the gut until the soldier crumpled to the ground.
Aurora grabbed Kara’s arm and pulled her toward the muse. Kara twisted in the princess’s grip, no doubt trying to come help him, but that would have been useless. The Lossian prince finally grabbed Kara by her shoulders and pulled her on the creature.
Wings beat on the air, and the muse took off. A rush of wind scattered Kara’s hair into her face as she struggled against Aurora, who held on even when the prince let go.
At least she’ll be safe, Braeden thought.
A sharp pain burst through his neck and ran down his spine. He fell to the ground, and all went dark.
Chapter 11
Old Friends
“Braeden!”
Kara threw her leg over Adele’s back and tried to jump off when Braeden fell to the ground. Aurora grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Kara twisted in the grip, but couldn’t slip free. She couldn’t believe the princess’s strength.
“Braeden said to go on, Vagabond! Don’t waste his sacrifice!” Aurora yelled.
The horde ran closer. The creature beneath Kara—whatever it was Adele had changed into—took to the sky, lifting them higher. Kara couldn’t use Flick to teleport down if the princess didn’t let go, so she had only one option left.
“I’m sorry, Aurora,” Kara said.
She punched the princess in the stomach. The hold on Kara’s arm slipped just enough that she wiggled free. She aimed for a ledge in one of the grottoes and slid off, landing with a light thud.
A crack sounded somewhere above. In the same second, a furry tail brushed Kara’s chin. Flick looked over from her shoulder with wide eyes.
Adele hovered and sighed, the breath a huffing gust of hot air that rolled over Kara.
“I’ll grab Braeden and teleport out. We’ll be fine. Please, go!” Kara yelled.
The muse growled, but nodded and flapped her wings. Wind tore through Kara’s hair as Adele unleashed the full strength of her new form and darted into the sky. Kara even had to hold on to Flick to keep him from being swept away in the small gale. Adele grew quickly smaller as she headed for the horizon with Aurora and the Lossian royals safely onboard.
A ball of flame shot through the air, pulling Kara back into the moment. The fire’s heat warmed her face as it passed. A chorus of yells and curses she couldn’t understand wafted from below, some growing closer with each second.
The horde had seen her fall, then.
Kara summoned the Grimoire and stepped back into one of the caves. Flick couldn’t teleport without first knowing where to go, and she didn’t know where they were taking Braeden. She couldn’t even teleport into the forest below because the cracking noise Flick always made would give her away. She needed another way to follow the now-unconscious Braeden.
When the book solidified in her hands, Kara opened the cover and paused as she tried to come up with something. She looked out over the dark forests, her thoughts racing. She needed an idea before she burnt to a crisp or was taken herself.
The Grimoire’s black dragon! It had saved her from Losse. It could help her again. She summoned the dragon with a few words, speaking so quickly that she barely understood herself.
Black dust pooled from the Grimoire in a flurry, blocking Kara’s view of the forest beyond. The stream of powder glittered and twirled too slowly. Voices clamored below.
The trail of dust from the Grimoire solidified into the familiar black dragon moments before a hand reached over the edge of the cliff. The dragon snapped at it and bit into the skin. The Stelian’s black blood splattered along the rock. Someone screamed, and the hand slipped away. Moments later, something heavy hit the ground with a thud.
The dragon turned its lipless head toward Kara. Its teeth glistened, coated in the soldier’s blood, and she suppressed a shudder. She would never get used to the way it always seemed to be grinning.
She patted its neck and jumped onto its back. Flick dug his claws into her shoulder, but she didn’t blame him. She held on tight and tapped her heels against the dragon’s sides.
The beast tore off of the cliff and toward the forest, ripping through the air as it flew. It hung close to the canopy. The dark leaves swished below like a black ocean.
Once Kara got her bearings, she directed the dragon closer to the path where she’d last seen the horde of Stelian soldiers. She heard them before she saw them; the sneering laughter of the small band sent a shiver up her spine.
“Hey, slow down,” she said to the dragon.
It obeyed. They stayed above the canopy, thus far unseen as they followed the road through holes in the trees. Kara intended to keep it that way. She strained to hear what the guards said, but she still couldn’t understand them.
The castle neared, and the looming edge of the forest meant she would soon lose her cover. She tapped the dragon’s neck and, when it tilted its head to look at her, she pointed down into the forest.
It nodded and slipped through the canopy, a sleek bullet that barely broke any twigs on its way through. The dragon was stealthier than she’d given it credit for. She could use this.
The forest line neared.
“Stop,” she said under her breath.
The dragon reared and landed just within the forest. Flick purred in Kara’s ear from his perch on her shoulder, but she resisted the impulse to pet him. She needed to pay attention. One false move would get her caught.
The forest line ended on a small cliff. A dozen feet below, the path curved along the rock wall and toward the castle gates. Stelian soldiers trickled by, and Kara held her breath as she saw the two biggest guards holding Braeden. His feet left behind a trail of blood as they dragged him along the dirt, unconscious but somehow still in his Hillsidian form.
Kara’s fist tightened, but she resisted the impulse to jump out at them now. Even with the dragon, she couldn’t take on all of them.
The clump of soldiers turned down the path and walked through the gates, clearly headed for the castle. She scanned the fortress’s windows, but she was too far away to see anything. There were really only two places they would take him: to a cell, or to Carden. Maybe both at once. Kara shuddered. She had to find him before Carden got to him.
Movement along the castle wall caught her eye. Six guards ran out onto a massive balcony jutting from one of the central towers. The opulent red drapes contrasted with the black stone walls even from her distance.
Why would Carden move soldiers onto a balcony?
Unless—she grinned. That had to be Carden’s study or bedroom. It was a risky assumption, but now she had a pretty good idea as to where the guards were taking Braeden.
The hard part was going to be getting up there unseen.
Chapter 12
Family
Braeden woke to the sharp kick of someone’s boot in his gut. Pain splintered across his side. He sputtered, but healed, and the pain receded almost as quickly as it had come. A cold stone floor sent shivers through him. The last thing he remembered was watching Aurora drag Kara onto the muse, and—
His attacker kicked him a second time, square in the stomach. Braeden curled around the pain. After a moment, he pushed himself to his feet. He staggered and tried to get his bearings, though his head still reeled from the blow that knocked him out in the forest.
The world blurred. Wind blew against his back. The heat of a fire warmed his right side. Streaks of brown and black furniture clotted his vision as the room came into focus. But the first thing he saw, much to his dismay, was his father standing beside him.
“Oh, good. You’re awake,” Carden said with a sneer.
Braeden glanced around, taking in bookshelves and a desk while still doing his best to keep his gaze trained on his father.
The study was just as Braeden remembered: dark. Even the light streaming through from the open balcony wasn’t enough to illuminate the room. Soldiers stood on the terrace, no doubt standing guard in case Braeden changed into his Kirelm form and tried to fly off.
A blur of gray skin moved in his peripheral vision, but Braeden didn’t react quickly enough. His father punched him in the gut. He doubled over. White spots flashed across his vision.
Carden laughed. “Always keep your eye on your enemy, boy! Didn’t I teach you that much before you left? You do think of me as the enemy, don’t you?”
“You have no idea,” Braeden said as his body healed.
A flicker of white among the Blood’s gray skin caught Braeden’s eye. When he looked closer, he gritted his teeth to suppress the bile.
Boils and scars littered the withered stump of Carden’s left hand. The longest scar ran from his thumb to the crease in his elbow. A white bone peered through a tear in the skin on his knuckles.
“Ah, yes,” Carden said, his sneer fading away.
“Why did you take the Queen’s Sartori?”
Carden examined his scarred hand. “She cut me with it. I needed to make the antidote, and you can only do that with the blade that cut you. Surely you know that.”
Braeden shook his head. “Let’s not waste time. What do you want? How am I not—”
“Chained? Dead? I thought about it. But I want to give you the chance to be sensible. You carry my bloodline, after all. You can’t escape that. You’re a royal, and royal men don’t lead quiet lives. We don’t have freedom and choices, only power. I may be cruel in some ways, but I do what I must to protect my people. It’s more than you have ever done.”
“I don’t want your people. I don’t want any of this.”
“You have no choice in the matter. Someday, you will be king, and a king only survives if his people do as well. We don’t belong in the snow, Braeden, banished like criminals. Our time has finally come, thanks to me. We will finally be free.”
“There are other ways. A war is hardly necessary.”
Carden grimaced. “You’re pathetic. What legacy will you leave? Cowardice? I will be remembered for greatness, and I’ll do what it takes to ensure you are as well.”
Braeden arched his back. “What are you going to do to me, then? Kill me before I get the chance to run again?”
“Tempting, but there isn’t time for me to sire and train another Heir before the war begins. No, I intend to break you. You’re valuable, Braeden. You’re trained to kill, and you love doing it. I can see it. Everyone can. Why do you think the others fear you? They were fine when they thought your hatred could be contained by killing isen. But now that they see you as a threat, they will end you.”
Braeden wished he could laugh and deny everything, but Carden had a point. Killing the guards back at the grottoes had sent a rush of joy through him. Hurting the guards on his way to save the Heirs had been thrilling. A rush of power and excitement flooded through him every time he watched the life fade from an opponent’s eyes.
He was a murderer and liked it, even if he hated himself for it.
Carden continued. “Boy, you are a killer. A survivor. A threat. You have battle experience that cannot be taught. I need that. You’ve lived with the enemy. You may even know where all the kingdoms are. You’re my final puzzle piece, Braeden.”
“You can’t make me care about the Stele. I would gladly kill everything in it.”
“That won’t happen. Breaking you will be easy. I don’t have to do anything but make you realize how deeply you deny yourself your own freedom.”
“What?”
“You are what you are. You cannot change that, not ever. Whatever you do, you cannot deny that you feel pleasure when you kill. Others’ pain gives you strength. I’ve seen it. You murdered your own subjects at the Gala—and you liked it.”
“Don’t be vulgar.”
Carden laughed. “But that’s what we are. I wish you could have seen Kara’s face at the Gala when you took on your daru. Even your little human doesn’t want you. She’s scared of you, of what you can do to others…and to her.”
“Don’t start. Let’s just get this over with, you and me.”
“Ah, but she is your weakness. It’s so obvious it almost hurts to see. All I’d have to do to break you is torture a girl.”
Braeden’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. He had to change the subject and take his father’s mind off of her. The k
ing had to think something else could get to him, but a wave of panic swam through Braeden as he tried to think.
He didn’t care about the Bloods or the countless lives that would no doubt be lost in this coming war. He didn’t even care about his own freedom, not if he was tied to his bloodline and could never escape it.
Nothing but hurting Kara could get to him.
Carden laughed again. “She won’t last long, of course. I would probably start with a few shocks through the body to get her blood moving—”
“Stop,” Braeden interrupted.
But Carden continued as if Braeden hadn’t spoken. “—eventually I’d begin burning her alive, bit by bit. She doesn’t heal, so it’ll have to be short bursts, just enough to leave a scar. The pain would last for days, of course, maybe longer. Then—”
“Stop!”
“—we’d move on to the slivers. After that, there would be nothing left of her but an empty shell. Well, that would be a fate worse than death, don’t you think? And all because you wouldn’t make a small sacrifice and obey—”
“Enough!” Braeden yelled.
Carden slapped his hand on a nearby table, shattering the wood. Splinters fell to the ground. “She makes you weak! She will be the end of you, if only because she will eventually lead you right to me.”
Braeden ignited a gray fire in his hand. There was no use lying anymore. “Some things are worth it.”
“A woman is never worth it.”
“I’m not keen on taking advice from you after what you did to Mother.”
Carden eyed the fire in Braeden’s hand. “Your mother was the one thing I ever loved, and she betrayed me.”
“No, Mother saved me from you. She saw what you really are—what I will never be.”
“Never? You’re already so close! Ostentatious, determined, a brilliant fighter—all you’re missing is an enemy. Not me, of course, but a real one. If torturing the girl is what it takes—”
“I will kill you if you lay a hand on her!”
“You would let that happen? If you truly care about her, you’ll trade with me.”
