Fist of the Furor (8 page)

We followed the smell of food, Maeve and Daegan tugging me after them. Lochlen watched my face, his reptilian gaze unreadable. The wedding had sealed a strong alliance between Sadeemia and two countries. It ensured us men in our quest against Raemon, but as I caught a final glance of Cadeyrn’s blue surcoat, I suddenly didn’t care. The prince was my friend, a deep friendship that could never be more.

Chapter 9

There was an overindulgence of food and an excessive amount of drinking. The hall was full of belching, quarreling dignitaries with complaints and opinions that would never be addressed. The king sat at the head of the table, his eyes roaming the crowd before rising abruptly. His departure caused a momentary lull in conversation, eyes tracking him as he strolled to his throne in the Hall of Light. I watched as he sat, his eyes on the main stairwell just beyond the hall. Princess Gabriella had returned moments before, her dress and hair as perfectly immaculate as when she’d left. She didn’t smile, but she whispered with her ladies, a smug expression on her face.

“It’s strange, don’t you think?” Maeve asked, her eyes on the princess. “I mean, we’re just sitting here eating while the prince is … well, you know.”

Daegan speared a piece of roasted meat with his knife and snorted. “I don’t know what else you expected. It’s royals after all.”

Oran sighed at my feet. “I don’t understand all of the fuss. Animals don’t even need bedrooms.”

I would have laughed if it had been anyone other than Cadeyrn. Somehow laughter didn’t seem right. It had been almost seven months since I’d lost Kye. The pain still ate at me. Cadeyrn had understood that. He’d helped me through the worst of the grief, and he was giving my people his support, aiding us in a war that was prophesied to kill him.

My gaze stayed locked on the king, on the way he massaged his temples when he thought no one was looking.

My appetite was gone. “I’m finished.”

Standing, I pushed away from the table, ignoring Maeve and Daegan’s stares. Lochlen reclined, his fingers steepled, his gaze following me as I moved into the Hall of Light. Ryon and Oran shadowed me, but they kept their distance. The attention the nobles gave me felt like a heavy weight on my back.

The king stiffened, his eyes on my approaching figure. “I am not attending questions.”

My gaze raked his bearded face. “I can help the headaches, sire.”

My offer of help wasn’t what he was expecting to hear, and a fleeting look of surprise slid across his features quickly replaced by a scowl. “You intrude, rebel.”

Shrugging, I stepped forward, fully aware of the king’s personal guard standing post behind the throne, their silent, emotionless faces alert.

“I can fix it, Your Majesty. It isn’t much, and I’m not sure if I can keep them away, but I can help.”

The king’s eyes lifted, locking on something over my shoulder. By the commotion in the dining hall, I knew Prince Cadeyrn and Princess Catriona had returned. I was suddenly glad I hadn’t remained at the table.

“Your headaches, sire?” I asked.

The king’s gaze met mine. “You can really help them?”

I nodded. “It’s part of my gift.”

Lifting my hands, I started to reach for the king, but was stopped short when his guards reached for their weapons.

Freemont waved them away. “Stand down. Let the girl approach me.” His gaze swept my face. “I don’t agree with my son, you know. You disturb me.”

In the end, I didn’t touch him. My hands stopped just short of his head, my power reaching for him. My palms burned.

“Because of the prophecy?” I asked.

I swept my hands over the top of his head, pausing when the burning in my palms intensified. I wasn’t sure what caused his headaches, but whatever it was, my magic had located it. Concentrating, I poured power down through my hands while calling on Silveet and the forest. They answered.

“Partly,” the king replied. Sweat beaded up along his brow, his eyes widening. His guards grew anxious. “It’s said you will bring darkness to our family.”

The burning in my hands lessened, fatigue working its way down into my limbs. I fought the urge to yawn. “Darkness has already found you, Your Majesty. Your cousin, Raemon, would have come for you whether I existed or not.”

Exhaling, the king sat back, his jaw slack, relief evident on his face. My hands fell away.

“Incredible,” he breathed. His gaze found mine. “There was something wrong with me, wasn’t there? I feel … lighter.”

I glanced at the floor. “Honestly? I have no idea. I’ve healed life threatening wounds before, but I’m not sure how it works. I don’t know the power’s limits.”

Freemont watched me. “You’re a naïve one, girl. Tested by war, I can see that, but still naïve. War steals from people,” his gaze fell on the dining hall just beyond the throne room, “but circumstance can completely rob them of life.”

Standing, the king left his throne, the breeze from his sudden departure fanning my face. There was renewed vigor in his step. Exhaustion weighed me down.

Cautiously, Ryon approached me. “Are you okay?”

Waving him off, I straightened, my back stiff. I’d known what healing the king would mean. The first time I’d ever healed someone with a dire wound, I’d blacked out, overcome by pain. Kye’s pain. The second time he’d been injured, there’d been nothing I could do to save him.

Oran’s fur met my palm just as the trees screamed,
“Trouble!”

I tensed, my eyes going wide. “Oran,” I breathed. The wolf growled. Even exhausted, my fingers flexed, ready to go for the dagger on my thigh.

There was a yell, a chorus of high-pitched female screams. There were overturned plates and breaking glass in the room beyond.

“Rodents,” a man cried, disgusted.

I turned just in time to find a drunken lord stumbling on the marble floor, his hand going for his sword, his eyes narrowed. Thomas the mouse scurried toward me.

“Kill it!” a frenzied female voice yelled.

The mouse jumped, his small body quivering as he ran. I wasn’t sure if it was possible for a mouse to look terrified, but this one did. It made my heart clench, and I stepped into the hall before lifting the hem of my skirt in welcome. To kill the mouse, they’d have to undress me. Although, by the reddened, drunken gazes, I wasn’t sure the nobles would find that unwelcome.

“Talk to me, Thomas,” I hissed as he drew nearer.

He squeaked, “Traitors, my Queen! There are traitors in the palace!” He skidded under my skirt, and I dropped the hem. The room suddenly filled with outraged cries, a horde of noble men forced to stop chasing the creature, their chests heaving.

“If you’ll just move aside, m’lady,” one man panted, “we’ll be rid of the rodent.”

I smiled. “Oh, I rather like the creature. I doubt he’ll cause me any harm.”

The men scoffed. Behind them, Gabriella swore, “She’s unnatural! She protects pests now?
Pests
! They carry disease, Your Majesty. You must not allow it!”

Prince Cadeyrn stood, his large frame rising above the rest of the men in the room. The only sign of his earlier absence was his hair. It was down now, unbound. It emphasized his sharp features and vivid blue eyes.

“Where are the traitors?” I hissed, my voice low enough only Thomas and Oran could hear.

Thomas circled my feet. My jaw clenched. I was the protector of creatures I’d once climbed onto chairs to avoid. It was something to get used to.

“Stop moving,” I ordered.

The mouse stilled. “They’ve plans to kidnap the heir, my Queen.”

I froze, my blood going cold, my body going numb.

“Thomas,” I said slowly, “do you mean Prince Arien?”

The mouse squeaked, “No, my Queen, the other heir.”

I had my dagger in my hand, the scandal be damned, and was moving toward the stairs before the guards had time to react. Oran bounded after me.

There was shouting below, firm orders and harried exclamations as Prince Cadeyrn leapt up the stairwell, his sword drawn. Lochlen, Maeve, Daegan, Gryphon, and Madden trailed us.

My hand found Cadeyrn’s arm as I ran, my fingers digging into his skin. “Your nephew?” I asked. “Where is he kept?”

Cadeyrn roared, “To the nursery!”

The royal guards gasped. A distraught female scream rose from below, and I knew the Princess of Yorbrook had heard his cry. Her son was in danger.

Chapter 10

“Cover the hallways!” Cadeyrn ordered, his knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. His eyes searched the dim corridors, made dimmer by the threat of rain outside the palace.

We’d reached the landing of a floor I’d never visited before. It was even more opulent than the level my room was located on. Rich tapestries and expensive portraits lined the marble walls. Grand Henderonian furniture perched in comfortable alcoves, and the smell of incense from Guarda overwhelmed the senses. In the distance, a baby cried.

Still clinging to my shoes, Thomas slid out from beneath my skirt, and I glanced down at the mouse.

“Go,” I commanded. “Find out what’s happening.”

He scurried away, the guards watching him apprehensively. I’d yet to remove my free hand from Cadeyrn’s arm, and his palm suddenly covered my fingers.

“What has the mouse told you?” he asked.

I glanced up at him. “There are foreign traitors in the palace. They aren’t Henderonian or Greemallian, but he was unable to determine from where they hail. They intend to kidnap the heir to the throne.”

The guards hissed, their lips thinning and their narrowed eyes searching the passage. A young page huffed up the stairs behind us, his face red and frightened.

“You ordered weapons, sire?” he panted, his head inclined.

On his thin shoulders, the boy hefted three sword belts, a bow, and a quiver of arrows. The prince must have sent the boy for the weapons as soon as he’d seen me going for the stairs.

 
Cadeyrn nodded at the rebels. I took the bow while Maeve, Daegan, and Lochlen each grasped a sword. For the second time since I’d come to the palace, I destroyed a dress, my dagger digging into the green satin covering my legs, the sharp blade leaving a slit from my ankles to my thighs on either side. It left skin exposed, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Handing the dagger hilt first to Maeve, I watched as she did the same, her expression grave.

Oran’s snout lowered; his teeth bared. A grumbling growl emanated from his chest. I knelt next to him, my clumsy fingers returning the dagger to the sheath on my thigh.

“Wyvers,” the wolf hissed. “I smell wyvers.”

I gasped, “That’s impossible.”

The prince’s hand fell to my shoulder.

I looked at him. “Wyvers.”

“Dammit!” Daegan swore. “Those cursed, ill begotten creatures!”

Lochlen’s reptilian eyes glowed. “They’re not here to kill.”

I stood. “How can you be sure?”

Lochlen sniffed. “Because they’re in the air. They haven’t landed.” His gaze moved to Cadeyrn. “Is the nursery exposed to the outside?”

The prince nodded. “There’s a glass ceiling similar to the one in the Hall of Light in Arien’s quarters.”

Squeaking heralded the return of Thomas the mouse. “They have the child, my Queen, but they’ve no way to escape.”

It hit me then what the men planned to do, and I went running down the hall, my bow clanging against my back. The
wyvers
weren’t here to attack, they were here for escape.

“Damn it, Stone,” Cadeyrn yelled, his steps bringing him alongside me. “You’ll get us all killed.”

“They’re going to use the wyvers to take the prince,” I panted.

A female scream brought me to a halt outside an elaborate wooden door with a crescent moon engraved in the surface. There was a crash within, followed by another scream.

Cadeyrn gripped me around the waist, pulling me against the wall hard, his breath fanning my hair. “We won’t do Henri any good dead.”

Pushing at his hand, I pulled an arrow free of my quiver. “Is that his name?” I asked. “Henri?”

Cadeyrn didn’t answer; he didn’t have to. The guards and the rest of the rebels caught up with us, their chests heaving.

Cadeyrn pointed to three of his men. “You! Go to the ramparts! If they manage to get away, we’ll need to know in which direction. Don’t shoot! Do you understand? If they have the prince, it will only serve in getting him killed.”

The men hurried to obey, their feet thudding in the corridor.

Cadeyrn released me, positioning himself in front of the closed nursery door. “Cover me,” he ordered.

In moments, he had kicked the door in.

The sight that met us was horrifying. There, in the middle of the room, were ten men cloaked in familiar tunics, serpents emblazoned across their chests. It was the New Hope crest. These men were from New Hope. One of them held a screaming baby. A crying, middle-aged woman was pushed up against a table, a man with a dagger standing over her, her skirts pushed up. Her face was bruised, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. The prince’s nurse.

Cadeyrn roared, his sword flashing. I strung my bow, my eyes following two of the New Hope men who also carried arrows. Ducking, Cadeyrn entered the chamber, his gaze tracking the man with the infant. He trusted the rest of us to cover him, and we did just that, our group slinking into the room with weapons drawn. Above us was a ceiling made of the same glass as the ceiling in the Hall of Light. In the sky, three wyvers circled, their tails swinging.

We were too late. I knew it by the smirks on the men’s faces. They had the prince now, and anything we did only put him in danger.

Cadeyrn was as aware of it as I was. “What do you want?” he asked them.

The men grinned. “What we want only your father can give us,” the one with the baby answered. He spoke Sadeemian. After our prolonged stay in Sadeemia, even Maeve and Daegan could understand most of the language now, and we all stiffened.

Cadeyrn’s sword twirled, the metal flashing. “You ask for war by betraying us. You, my mother’s countrymen? You dare risk that? You dare risk war?”

The captor tightened his grip on the child. The infant squirmed, his plump face red and furious. “It was an offer we couldn’t refuse, Prince. If your nation falls, a lot of smaller nations benefit.”

Cadeyrn frowned. “How? We provide a lot of resources to your country, even manpower when needed. What has Raemon offered you that we haven’t?”

A crash sounded above us, and I glanced up to find one of the wyver’s tails hitting the ceiling. It fractured, a vein of webbed cracks spreading across the glass.

A New Hope bowmen used the moment to his advantage, lifting his bow. I mimicked his movements, my string going taut, my arrow flying before his could dispatch. It sliced through his neck, embedding itself into his skin. The prince’s nurse screamed.

The wyver’s tail sank once more to the ceiling, splintering it. Cadeyrn ducked, his body falling into mine as the roof caved in. The infant’s captor covered the baby, protecting him from the rain of shards. The men had no intention of killing the child. The young prince’s best chance came from our retreat.

“Stand back,” Cadeyrn ordered, his voice tight, his eyes full of rage.

The wyver landed in the room, his tail swinging. The captor climbed onto its back with the child, even as the wyver used his strength to down two of Prince Cadeyrn’s men. I saw the moment the tail swung toward Maeve, her back exposed. It happened in slow motion. My heart cracked, anger bubbling to the surface. I’d lost too much to Raemon, to his wyvers.

With a shout, I went to the glass-covered floor, taking Maeve to the marble with a sweep of my leg before rolling to cover her.

The wyver’s barb sank into my thigh, and I screamed as it pulsed, driving poison deep beneath my flesh. It burned! My skin burned!

Maeve shimmied out from beneath me with a cry, her hands gripping my arms, tugging me away from the beast. It dislodged the barb, ripping it from my flesh with enough force that I screamed again. There was nothing anyone could do. The wyver was lifting into the air, his wings flapping furiously, the baby screaming. It couldn’t be killed now without harming the infant heir.

Sinking to the floor, my palms met glass, my body overtaken by heat and pain. The wyver had given me too much poison, way too much poison. My magic revolted, my body convulsing in the shimmering glass shards, my eyes going to the sky. Lightning ripped through the black clouds, the sound of thunder rumbling as the New Hope men fought our men. It was a suicide mission for the foreigners, and they knew it. They meant to take out as many of Cadeyrn’s men as they could before they were cut down.

A lifeless body fell next to me on the marble, his glassy gaze wide. I would have screamed, but I couldn’t.

“Stone!” a voice cried. It was distant, the voice. It sounded an awful lot like my brother’s. I had yet to get to know Gryphon the way I wanted to.

The fighting ceased. Glass crunched as men stepped over bodies.

Oran was suddenly lying on top of me, his fur warm. “Hold on, Phoenix,” he growled.

I stared at the sky, my body throbbing. It was too much, the pain, but I couldn’t scream. The poison wouldn’t let me scream. It paralyzed me. I couldn’t even close my eyes. The lifeless gaze of the Sadeemian man next to me mocked me in its death.

A female wept, and I knew from the sound of the sobs it was Maeve. A massive roar filled the room, and I watched as Lochlen transformed, his golden body thrown into the air. He fought with the two remaining wyvers, his golden scales magnificent in the black sky. He took no prisoners, my Lochlen. He was awe inspiring; his teeth flashing, his talons sinking deeply into the wyver’s hide. I couldn’t look away.

Something wet trickled from my nose onto my lip, and I knew it was blood. The pain worsened. There was sobbing. People touched me, but I couldn’t feel them. Oran’s frame shook, causing my body to tremble, but I couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t even feel his warmth anymore. All I felt was ice, burning ice that filled my body to bursting.

“No one survives a wyver sting,” a guard hissed.

“One more word, and I will run you through!” a voice threatened.

A face materialized above me. It was Gryphon. Conall’s son, Cadeyrn’s friend, and my brother. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered.

There was pain,
so
much pain. I wasn’t sure which was worse. The pain, or being frozen in this maddeningly aware body, forced to endure it.

Above me, there was more lightning. It highlighted Lochlen’s scales, turning them into the most brilliant gold I’d ever seen. His head turned, just enough his reptilian eyes met mine. There was anger there, but there was also something more.

“You’re going to be fine,” Oran growled. “Call on Silveet, Phoenix. Call on the trees.”

If I was breathing, it didn’t feel like it.

Cadeyrn stooped next to me, his pendant dangling over my face. Three knots. Family. His blue gaze found my empty turquoise eyes just as it began to rain. It was a deluge, the water slicing through the shattered ceiling, soaking everyone.

In moments, I was in Cadeyrn’s arms, my head lolling against his chest. I felt nothing, my cheek pressed up against flesh that I couldn’t feel. Had Kye felt this way before he died? Had he been trapped in his body, his frame racked with pain? Had he heard my weeping, his own heart breaking? Anguish overwhelmed me. It ripped through me, joining with the physical pain that already enveloped me.

“She saved my life,” Maeve sobbed.

I saw nothing except Cadeyrn’s rain soaked skin, but I knew we moved, knew by the sound of rising voices that we were in a different part of the palace. I heard the king shouting, the sound of screams and sobbing as the story of the infant prince’s kidnapping was revealed.

“It’s the rebels fault!” Gabriella’s voice insisted. “Let her die! Let the girl die! They are nothing but trouble for this family! They bring death and sorrow with them.”