I pushed myself to my feet, hurrying over to where Belle lay motionless on the stone floor. I do not know how long I spent by her side, helpless to do anything but cry against her too-warm skin. Occasionally, her body spasmed with cruel magical shocks, and I held her until they passed, powerless to stop them.
I finally looked up. Luciana and the chain were gone. Strangely, I did not care. Hardly sparing them a thought, I pressed a kiss against Belladonna's hot forehead. “Stay here. I'll be back, I promise. I'm going to get help.” With one last glance at Belle's limp body on the ground, I hurried back down the hallway, hoping I could find someone to help me get her into the carriage.
I slipped into the ballroom as carefully as I could, not wanting anyone to notice my entrance. I eased the door into place behind me, holding my skirts with one hand as I glanced frantically from side to side, trying to decide what to do. I needed someone to help me return Belle to her carriage, but Luciana was still somewhere nearby. I looked through the crowd purposefully this time, trying to keep my breath even and resisting the temptation to cradle my swimming head in my hands. All I could think about was Belle lying back in the hallway, her face and skin burning while I did nothing...nothing.
“Are you all right?”
Prince Brendan's voice startled me, forcing Belle’s tortured image out of my mind. Standing beside him was a man I did not recognize, but I sensed the magical energy coming from him immediately. Tears roll down my cheeks as I tried to explain what had happened. “My sister…Belle…back there. The hallway...She has taken ill. I need to get her to her carriage.”
“Ellie, steady there. You look like you are about to fall over. What do you mean your sister has taken ill?”
“Belladonna, she’s injured. I have to get her home.”
Prince Brendan put his strong, square hand on my shoulder. “If she’s injured, perhaps one of the palace physicians can take a look at her.”
“No! I mean...” I could not let Luciana anywhere near Belle again, especially in her weakened state. “Please, help me get her home. I have to get her to Baxstresse right away.”
“A physician cannot help her,” said the strange man with Prince Brendan. “There is magic in her blood, and her body needs time to purge it. Taking her home is the best solution.” I had been too frantic to study him earlier, but now I knew that he must be Cieran, the King's magical advisor. A small corner of my gnawing agony eased.
Prince Brendan looked thoughtful, but after realizing how frantic I was, he nodded his head once in agreement. “I could call a servant...no, I will carry her myself. It's not too far, and she needs to get home as quickly as possible. Show me where she is.”
I led Prince Brendan and Cieran back down the hallway, anxious to return to Belle’s side and make sure she was still breathing. When I saw her stretched out on the floor just as I had left her, I nearly collapsed. More tears flooded from my eyes and smeared down my chin as I wiped at them with my hand.
“She does look very ill,” Brendan said, leaning down to feel Belladonna's forehead. “Are you sure you would not like me to fetch someone here?”
“Just get her home. Get her home, and she will be all right. She has to be all right.” The thought of losing Belle was too terrible to consider.
Belle was tall for a woman, but Prince Brendan was larger, and with Cieran’s help, he managed to lift her without too much trouble. My sleek, powerful Belle looked so pale and vulnerable as they carried her from the room. The muscles of Prince Brenda's back stretched with the effort of supporting her weight. I thought of Belle scooping me in her arms, calling me her sweet girl, cradling me, making love to me. The memories made me weep. My heart twisted, and I hurried to follow the prince.
Our journey through several more corridors and outside into the cool night was unmemorable. I was completely focused on Belle, wondering what she was feeling, hoping I could get her home in time. “Which carriage is yours, Ellie?” Prince Brendan asked, but Corynne spotted me and trotted over before I could answer his question.
Matthew was waiting faithfully on the box, and as soon as he saw Belle's limp body in the prince's arms, he hurried over to help Brendan and Cieran settle her across the carriage seat. “Saints above, Miss Ellie, what happened?” he asked as Corynne lipped at my hair. I patted her nose, but pushed her away.
“Fever,” I lied. There was no time to explain. “She has to go home right away...” I turned to Corynne. “Cor,” I whispered under my breath, “please...Get Belle to Mam as fast as you can. She is...everything.”
Corynne looked at me with large brown eyes, understanding more than Prince Brendan. She shifted her hooves urgently in the dust of the road. “I promise, Ellie.”
I thanked her with my eyes, focusing my attention back on Matthew. “Bring her to Baxstresse. I'll ride Brahms behind you. There's no time...”
Prince Brendan started to protest, but before any words passed his lips, a hot wave of bone-humming magic rattled through me. I almost lost my footing, but Prince Brendan and Matthew grabbed my arms to steady me. “Luciana,” I screamed, not caring who else might be nearby. At the sound of her name, Matthew jumped back on the box, and Corynne was instantly running down the road, her precious cargo rolling behind her.
I whirled my head around, looking for Luciana. She was several yards away, running directly at me with unnatural speed. She did not slow as she neared me, reaching out her arms and spreading her fingers like cruel talons. Not bothering to use magic, she leapt on me, tearing at my hair and face with her fingers, clawing at my eyes. I must have screamed, but a strange white noise filled my head, and all I could feel was the vibration of boiling magic.
The eye hovered over my nose as her chain fell toward my face. My eyes were drawn to it like a pendulum. It was shaking, glowing with a magical light. “I see you. You will die.” Suddenly, the eye seemed to fly backwards. It took me several precious seconds to realize that Prince Brendan was pulling her off me. Luciana lifted her hand, palm forward, and barked a word in a language that made my throat scream with the heat of it. Prince Brendan collapsed to the ground. I watched, horrified, as he fell to the ground, much like Belladonna had. Cieran immediately said another word, and a glowing, oily coating appeared over the prince's skin. Sweat beaded on Cieran's forehead and ran in rivulets down his square cheeks as he knelt beside the prince, still keeping one hand raised in Luciana's direction.
To my surprise, and Luciana's, Prince Brendan shook his head, looking around him as if he were in a strange kingdom, but completely unharmed. He touched his forehead, and I saw that his hands were covered with a pair of fine velvet gloves. A wave of relief nearly made me lose my footing. The magic had dazed him, but when he had touched the chain, it had not gotten into his skin. Cieran must have done something to save him.
Luciana hurried away, vanishing as quickly as she appeared. Brendan tried to stand up and go after her, but Cieran put a hand on his shoulder, holding him down. “Go,” he said to me. “Get away from here before she comes after you again. I’m going to speak with the King and make sure Prince Brendan wasn’t injured. She’ll be arrested for this, I assure you.”
Part of me did not want to leave, and I opened my mouth to protest. Then, I remembered Belle’s limp, lifeless form. I needed to be with her and make sure she was all right. Without another word, I turned and ran for the tree where I knew Brahms was waiting for me. I did not even stop when one of my slippers snapped at the heel and tugged from my uninjured foot.
CHAPTER 7
BRAHMS and I left the palace without attracting attention. He moved faster than a storm over the hills when I told him that Belle was in danger. I felt guilty for leaving Prince Brendan behind with Luciana, but I hoped she would not be able to harm him while he was in Cieran and Cassandra’s protection. I needed to be with my lover. Nothing else—the prince, the chain, the kingdom—was as important to me in that moment as Belle.
Baxstresse was surprisingly peaceful when I arrived in the gray of e
arly morning. Frost had returned to the fields, and Brahms and I breathed puffs of white air in the early cold. None of the servants were up but Matthew. He met me as I rode in to take Brahms back to the stables. “She's in ‘er room,” he told me as I dismounted, patting Brahms' heaving sides in gratitude. “Mam's tryin’ ta get her ta take some water now. Go.”
I left without another word, desperate for proof that Belle was, at least, still alive and breathing. Careless of my sore ankle, I rushed up the stairs and hurried past the library. I threw open the doors to her bedroom, and what I saw nearly stopped my heart. Belle was as still and pale as death, but when I hurried to her side and pressed a hand to her forehead, her skin nearly burned me. She let out a low groan, her head falling to one side as a strand of dark hair caught against her lip. She was unconscious.
I hovered at Belle's bedside for hours, stroking the soft underside of her wrist and brushing away the strands of hair that clung to her slick, fevered forehead. Mam and I did everything in our power to help her, but the hot magic that beat thickly in her blood had to run its course. Belladonna's endurance would determine her survival.
“You can't leave me, Belle,” I whispered over her limp form, tugging the covers off her shoulders to try and cool her down. “I need you too much.” Belle's lips parted as she took in another shuddering sip of air, but she did not answer. I stayed at her side, not even leaving to change out of my dress. The fabric was mud spattered and torn, and my one remaining slipper had been kicked into a corner. My arms ached and my sight was unsteady, but I did not dare rest while my lover stumbled along the precipice of death.
Instead, I remembered. I remembered how her arms felt around me, how the love in her eyes warmed my face, how her lean body felt against me, inside of me. I remembered, and the memories were a lovely and painful jumble of rawness. Belle had left her mark on my heart, and I could never escape her.
My sorrowful thoughts numbed slightly as the small servant's door opened and Mam crept in. The worry lines above her bright eyes were deep enough to coax me out of my chair. “You have to hide, Ellie,” she whispered. “Luciana is coming.”
I continued looking down at Belle. “Nothing can make me leave.”
“She'll be killing you both.”
“I don't care. My life is nothing without Belle in it.”
Mam shook her head, sucking on her teeth. “You're a fool, then, child. Mistress Belladonna wouldn't be wanting you dead.” Both of our heads jerked towards the door as the scraping of heels on the hallway floorstones filtered into the room. It would only be a matter of moments.
Mam scurried back through the servant's door, reaching her hand out to me for a brief moment. I did not take it. She left me hovering over Belladonna as I waited for Luciana to arrive. The wait was short. Luciana flung the doors open less than a minute after Mam had crept out of the room, wet hair clinging to her bare shoulders. Her face was drained of its usual sadistic, toying arrogance, but she was beautiful even in her fury. The chain still hung around her neck. Inwardly, I cursed myself. I should have thought to grab the chain instead of rushing for Belle...but Luciana could have overpowered me and taken it back, and I might not have been able to help Belle. I knew I would make the same choice again.
Luciana looked between me and Belladonna, narrowing her eyes. Her fingers stroked over the gold and silver pendant. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come back to finish what I started?” she asked, stepping closer to the bed. “Your precious lover is lying there for nothing, and your prince is unable to remember a thing that happened last night.”
“What did you do to him?” I stood up from my chair, positioning myself between her and Belle. I would not let Luciana hurt her a second time.
“Does it matter? Cieran and Cassandra are petitioning the King to have me arrested, but by the time he gets here, it will be too late. I’ll already have what I want.” She snarled at me, pulling her lips back over her teeth. “I should have pushed you out of the window when I had the chance. You would have been much less of a bother if an accidental fall had snapped your pretty neck.”
I knew Luciana was going to kill me. Belladonna was not there to shield me from her wrath this time, but even as she dangled between life and death, she gave me strength. “She will recover,” I said with a certainty I did not feel.
“I doubt it. Love affairs—and people—so often find themselves dead before their time.” Luciana stepped forward and wrapped her fingers around my throat, squeezing with inhuman strength. Magic, I thought as my muscles jerked, trying to free themselves from Luciana's chokehold. Blots of color exploded behind my eyes. I could not breathe.
And then I was on the ground, air exploding into my lungs as Luciana ran toward the doors and threw them back open. Mam was braced in the entrance to the room. She peered over Luciana’s shoulder at me and Belladonna, but did not speak to us. “The prince is here,” she said.
Luciana instantly forgot about killing me. She bolted from the room without another word, too focused on ensnaring the prince to remember her revenge. If I had not thought so before, now I was convinced that she was mad. Mam helped me to my feet, steadying my balance and leaning me against a wall.
“We have to stop her,” I gasped, my throat lighting with pain around my words.
“How?”
I pushed myself away from the wall and rushed to the door. “No idea. But we have to do something.”
I sprinted out into the hallway and took the servant’s stairs, not wanting to run into Luciana on my way. I limped a little on my injured ankle, but I arrived off to the side of the entrance hall just as Luciana was making her curtsy. She had her best smile painted on her face. “...honor to have you at Baxstresse,” she said, the tail end of her greeting drifting to the back of the hall where I stood listening. I ducked behind a stone doorframe, hiding myself just as Luciana tossed a glance in my direction.
My heel dug into something soft, and I winced as bone needle teeth bit the skin of my ankle. “Watch where you're hiding,” Jessith yowled. “I'm trying to see.”
“Sorry.” I peered back through the doorway, trying to be as discreet as I could. A large group of servants had gathered at the edges of the entrance hall, eagerly watching Prince Brendan and his attendants. Cate was among them, but she quickly moved out of sight. I saw Sarah gripping her loose skirts with small hands and gazing at the prince with a mixture of fear and wonder. Jamison was at the front of the group, tugging importantly at his brass buttons.
Prince Brendan did not seem to notice any of them. “Lady Luciana, is Ellie here? Is she all right?”
To her credit, Luciana held her calm expression. “Ellie? Of course, where else would she be?”
“I was helping your sisters into their carriage last night, but I must have fallen, because I forget...” His face tightened as he searched for a memory. “When I awoke, I found Ellie's…Lady Eleanor's slipper beside me, but she was gone. Cieran and Cassandra went to see my father and left me in my room, but I escaped and found my carriage to go after her. Could I see her? I want to make sure that she and Lady Belladonna are all right. From what Cieran was saying, there was an attack, but I'm afraid I cannot remember all of the details. I must have injured myself somehow.”
“Ellie's health has been in such a fragile state since her illness, Your Grace. I really must insist that she not be disturbed.” I had to admit that it took courage for Luciana to deny the prince a request, but she was probably also insane.
As she shifted to one side, I caught a glint of brilliant silver gold, and I strained forward to see. Settled on purple cushion was the slipper I had lost. I realized what I needed to do. “Jessith,” I hissed, “go to Belladonna's room and get my other slipper.”
“Playing fetch like a common dog,” Jessith muttered, but did not bother arguing. She slipped into the patchwork shadows at the edges of the hallway as I turned back to watch Prince Brendan and Luciana.
The prince looked thoughtful, running a large, nervous han
d through his hair. “I know that Lady Eleanor is ill, but I must insist on seeing her.”
Instead of protesting as I expected, Luciana nodded her head in assent. Her fingers stroked over the golden links of the chain around her throat. “I understand, Your Grace. I will tell her to come down, if you will wait here.” She turned and walked up the tall, curling staircase, leaving the prince, the servants, and me waiting.
A minute passed, perhaps two. I did not dare to move. I had no idea when Luciana would return, or what she might do. Finally, I heard the soft scrape of something being dropped at my feet. “I hope you appreciate this. I had to carry it in my mouth. Disgusting,” Jessith said.
I bent down to pick up the slipper, my mouth half open to call for Prince Brendan, but stopped short. I looked up just in time to watch myself descend the curved stairway, my hand outstretched. I touched the wall, making sure I was still hidden behind the stone doorframe. “Jessith! If I am hiding here, then who in all of Seria is that?”
“It's Luciana, you twit. I can smell magic all over her.”
“Luciana?” My thoughts were frozen, numb with shock. How could I be in two places at the same time? Where was Luciana? “But...Oh!”
“Be quiet and watch!” Jessith hissed, flexing her claws against the vulnerable skin of my calf as a warning. “You are SO slow sometimes.”
I gripped the slipper in my hand and stood, studying myself—no, Luciana—as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She drew closer to Prince Brendan and curtsied weakly, and I realized we were not a perfect match. This version of me was thinner, paler, with yellowish skin, as though I had not eaten in days. Or as though I had been sick for several months...
“Your Highness.” Luciana-as-me curtsied. “I apologize for wearing my nightgown.” It was incredibly eerie hearing my own voice, but not forming the words myself.
The Second Sister (The Amendyr Series) Page 20
