Claiming the Prince: Book One (53 page)

B
EHIND BRUISED LIDS,
the Crown’s eyes were no less sharp than they had been seven years before, and they gave away nothing.

“Display,” she said.

Magda unleashed her daggers at once, the hushed breath of metal slicing the air the only sound in the hall.

The Crown barely glanced at her knives.

“Present.”

“Caden, son of Flor and Aran.”

“Proffer.”

She sliced her own wolf blade across her cheek and then turned to meet Kaelan’s gaze. They had gone over this, but she could still see a glint of worry in his eye.

He placed his hand to her cheek. Soon the sting and heat of blood faded and then was gone. She turned her healed cheek for the Crown to see.

“Accepted,” the Crown said. “But he is not claimed.”

“No,” she said, doing her own searching of the Crown’s thin face.

“Unusual.”

“Before my mother’s death, she requested I not claim a Prince until I became Radiant.”

“Odd.”

“I agree, but I respect her wishes.”

“Petition?”

She took a knee again. “I put forth my right to the title and powers of my family and my lands.”

“Rise.”

She did.

“Enneahedron?”

Her pulse skipped and sped up. She struggled to soothe it again. Her fingers curled; her knives still on display. Her throat constricted.

“No.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

The Crown’s head tipped slightly. “In your request, you claimed to possess it.”

“I did possess it,” Magda said, face burning, limbs trembling slightly, “but it was taken.”

“By?”

“I do not know.”

The Crown shifted in her chair. “Does anyone here wish to present the Enneahedron and put forth their petition at this time?”

Magda glanced at Lavana off to her right, forefront among the crowd, with Riker at her side. Her own hands were curling and uncurling as though grasping for the Enneahedron. Every eye was upon her, but she didn’t step forward.

Even though she’d suspected it, Magda still frowned. If Lavana didn’t have the Enneahedron, then who did?

The Crown’s dark brow rose fractionally. “Elders?”

The elders stepped forward from the crowd.

“You requested expedition of the naming of your new Radiant?” the Crown asked.

Toryn, standing closest to the balcony, with Flor just behind him, spoke.

“We did.”

“And is this still your wish?”

Toryn glanced around at the others. “Yes. Magdalena and Lavana are the only Raes of age. There are no other potential claimants.”

The Crown fluttered her fingers up towards one of the other balconies, but didn’t look at its awaiting occupants.

“Records?”

The Minister of Records, a woman with ornately plaited white hair, leaned upon the balustrade. “The records concur.”

The Crown seemed to take a deep breath, and it reminded Magda to do the same. Her head was still spinning.

As she’d suspected, Lavana hadn’t taken the Enneahedron. But whoever had, also hadn’t given it to her either. So why take it in the first place? Its power only served the Radiant of the Eastern Cliffs. And once the new Radiant was confirmed by the Crown, the Enneahedron, no matter where it was, would return to her. No one else could have any cause to want it—at least none that she knew of.

“Then I will respect the wishes of the elders. Expedition granted. Are the claimants prepared to vie?”

Lavana strode forward, coming abreast of Magda, Riker trailing behind her.

“I am,” she said, viciously bright, “Your Eminence.”

“As am I, Your Highness,” Magda stated.

As ready as she could be, considering.

The Crown’s hands slid onto the arms of her chair in a weary way. “Decision by duel. Escort the claimants. Parties assemble.”

She rose. Once more the family dropped to their knees.

Moments later, footfalls on the stone alerted them that they could stand again.

When Magda lifted her head, she found the Captain of the Crown’s guard, a woman with piercing blue eyes, standing before her.

“Claimants, follow me,” she said.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Kaelan turned to her. “What’s going to happen now?”

The ready room was a tiny closet with no place to sit and nothing but a trickling fountain built into the rough stone wall, a single bronze cup hanging from a hook beside it.

She paced the length, which was slightly longer than the width.

“We wait for the family to assemble at the dueling grounds and the Crown to take her place,” she said. “Then Lavana and I fight, until one of us yields or dies.”

His jaw hardened. “And I’m just supposed to stand there?”

“No,” she said. “You’ll be positioned at the edge of the circle, guarded. If I can reach you, you can help me, heal me if I need it, but you’re not allowed to break from your station or the guards will incapacitate you.”

“And the family?”

“They’ll be able to offer help,” she said, “if they wish to do so. Weapons, shields, magic even, but they risk their own lives by throwing in for me or Lavana. If they offer support and their chosen victor doesn’t win, then they had best run quickly. But should the family choose to take sides, the duel can be far more decisive.”

“What happened the last time?”

“The family didn’t intervene, but I didn’t have a Prince and Alanna did. That made the difference in the end. I wounded her. It would’ve been fatal, but for her Prince. So long as a Rae is in her Prince’s hands, she can’t be touched.”

“For how long?”

“Until the Crown decrees. Never long though.”

“What do you think happened to the Enneahedron?”

She stopped pacing. “I don’t know. But it’s not important right now. The Enneahedron will heed the call of the Radiant.”

“Then it’s not really lost?”

“No. Only until the next Radiant is chosen. Then it should return to her.”

“Then why steal it?”

She chewed her lip. “I don’t—”

“To force the duel,” he said.

Her heart slammed in her chest. Sweat dripped down her back.

“If you’d had the Enneahedron, then your claim would’ve been stronger, right? The Crown could’ve named you Radiant without the duel. Isn’t that why we went out of our way to find it?”

“Yes,” she said. “But who would want to force me into the duel? Why? If they favored her, why not simply give it to her?”

“Maybe they didn’t favor her.”

“Then why take it from me?”

He rubbed his temples. “We’re missing something.”

She nodded.

In that moment, Meer appeared in the corner. In her arms, a sagging furry bundle.

“Hero.” Magda crouched before the brownie and the rat as Meer lowered Hero to the floor. His eyes were slits, but at least they were open.

“He woke moments ago,” Meer said.

Magda touched Hero’s head. “Hero, are you all right?”

“
No
,” he said, even his thoughts were weak, hazy. “
But I had to tell you
.”

“Tell me what?”

“
The voice . . . it told the nymph to take the Enneahedron.
”

“That’s why you bit her?”

“
Yes
.”

“Do you know why the voice wanted her to take it?” she asked.

His eyes slid shut and his energy waned. “
No, I’m sorry
.”

Tears burned her eyes. “Don’t be sorry.” She sank down, so her face was close to his. “I’m sorry. This never would’ve happened . . .”

“I have traveled from the sewers of the Cliffs to the Spire at the heights of the Lands. I have flown and fought and communed with creatures I never dreamt existed. My life has been good, for a rat.
”

Her heart ached. “You made it good, Hero.” She ran her finger gently over his head, along the ragged edge of his ear. “I still owe you that mountain of bread,” she whispered.

His eyes slid shut and she could hear the air rasping in his lungs. “
Another day
.”

“Hero . . .”

His breath rattled and then ceased. The presence of his thoughts slipped away until they were beyond her reach.

Tears dripping off her nose, she leaned over and kissed him on the head, one last time.

Kaelan’s hand rested gently on her shoulder as she sat back on her heels. Even Meer’s normally stern face was drawn and pale.

“What would you like for me to do, Mistress?” Meer asked.

“Take him back to Southterrace,” she said. “If I survive, I’ll take him home and bury him. If not, do it for me. Back in the Eastern Cliffs.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Meer said, lifting Hero again. With a soft swish, they were both gone.

Kaelan thumbed aside the tears from her cheek. “What did he say?”

The snakes of pain writhing in her chest multiplied and thrashed wildly as her blood began to boil. “Honey took the Enneahedron.”

He stared. “But . . . why?”

“The voice told her to do it.”

“But . . . we have to find her. Call Meer. Tell her to bring Honey here. She has to tell us where it is—”

“It’s too late for that. The Crown has made her decision. Even if I could get the Enneahedron back, I would still have to fight.”

He gripped both sides of her face and pressed his forehead to hers. The silver melted from his eyes until they were burning green again.

A brisk knock on the door cut between them.

“It’s time,” a guard bellowed.

Kaelan held her where she was. “Magda—”

She clasped his hand and then removed it from her face, but held it. “Back in Lavana’s cell, you said that you didn’t know someone could give up being a Rae. And you were right. You can’t stop being who you are. And I
am
a Rae, even if there are days I wish I weren’t. Like today.”

She pushed to her feet, pulling him up with her.

“And so then, who am I?” he asked, his green eyes flaring.

“My Prince,” she said. “So long as you want to be.”

His hand tightened around hers and he brought it to his chest. The bright heat in his eyes stopped her breath. “My heart, my mistress.”

O
NCE, IN THE HUMAN WORLD,
she had attended an outdoor play. It had left her trembling and soaked in cold sweat. Not because the play had been upsetting, she barely remembered what it had been about now. Rather, her panic had been caused by the open air playhouse itself. It had reminded her too much of the dueling grounds.

Rows of benches rose above the dusty, hard-packed circle of earth. But instead of overlooking the scenic Canyonlands of southern California like the playhouse, the grounds ended at a precipice that dropped off to certain death.

Magda had never believed she would ever see them again. Even without her fear of heights, as she stepped through the western door with Kaelan behind her, dread twisted like writhing black eels in her bowels.

Guards arrayed around the semicircular wall separating the spectators from the combatants.

The lowest row of seating sat slightly higher than her head. The wind howled and swirled through the packed crowd, whipping loose carefully managed plaits and kicking dirt in their eyes. In the highest balcony, the Crown. Above her, the stone, from which the stands were carved, jutted out, blotting out the Spire, revealing only the cloud-matted sky.

By the eastern door, Lavana, knives drawn. Aquamarine eyes flashed as they tracked Magda’s every movement.

Riker hung to the side, down in a small sunken area known as the pit. Four guards stood at each corner of his little box. Only if Lavana reached beyond the guards could he help her.

Magda’s pulse threatened to bolt. It was all she could do to keep it in check.

Before he could be ushered into his own pit, Kaelan took the back of her neck again and turned her towards him, cupping his hands under her jaw.

Her pulse slowed at his touch. The tacky sweat spreading under her armor cooled and dried.

“Thanks—”

He pressed his lips to hers, firmly, quickly.

“You’re a Rae and I’m a Prince,” he said, “but we’re not like the others. The only thing that matters to me now is you. Not the Crown, not the Throne, not the rules.”