Of Darkness and Crowns (17 page)

I’m not trying to curse us. I just never do anything, make a single move, without thorough planning first. This whole plan reeks of impulsiveness. Of
Kal
. Although, curse might be the wrong word—as Bale’s minions, we’re all cursed.

The night swallows us. Fast-moving clouds race across the moon, giving us the cover of darkness to go undetected. But truly, that’s pointless. They’ve made their preparations. They know we’re coming, have made damn sure I’d be here. I’d just need the satisfaction of having a plan. So that I don’t feel the loss of control so completely.

Bax stands beside me, no longer bound. He’s a willing hostage. Obviously,
he’s
been doing some planning. I doubt he’d risk his family to be here now otherwise. Even though he considers Kal part of that family, I don’t think he’d give up his baby son or wife for her life. Maybe he’s already asked himself if he would, or
could.
If he hasn’t, he should.

As we wait in the tree line near the Court entrance for our moment to strike, Bale’s last words ring in my head.
Sacrifice
. What I am willing to sacrifice? It angers me that I have to give up anything. I, unlike Bax, am finding it a much harder question to answer.

Lake sidles up beside me, loud as a damn Crusher. I glare at him.

“Sorry, My Liege.” He bows. “I wanted to quickly inform you that the last unit has caught up and is in place. Your legion is ready.”

“Good.” I grip the hilt of my sword with one hand and palm the emblem in my other. “It’s time.”

On cue, Lake holds up a fist. “Move in!”

The ground quakes. Hundreds of Otherworlders stomping down in unison thunders around us, and then they’re moving ahead. I did not bring a select detail this time. I brought the whole damn army.

No diversion tactics. No stealthy invasion. The war has been stalled long enough.

Every unit that my country and Cavan has are waiting for us behind those walls. And oddly, it’s quiet.

The citizens, who should be filling the inner-court, anxious and awaiting a show of executions, have been ordered away. Some to their homes, if they’re far enough out of reach of the soon-to-come battle. Others who are privileged to live near the palace, probably sent to some relative miles past. It’s what I’d have done had it been my decision to make.

The stomping grows louder, the earth trembling beneath my feet, as the flank begins their march behind the legion. My skin sizzles with anticipation. The currents of power spark and snap at the frigid night air. A guttural battle cry sounds in unison, and Bax flinches from the impact of it.

No. There is no sneak attack tonight.

Along the palace wall walk, figures begin to emerge. Dark-clad and shrouded by the night, like us, yet clearly visible against the blooming glass lamps. Their lights ignite in quick-fire succession. One by one illumining the palace to welcome us.

Very different than my first welcome home party.

The tingle under my skin intensifies to a strong buzz, fueling me with determination. This time, I will get
all
that I came here for.

“If you falter, I will not hesitate to end you,” Bax says.

I glance at him and laugh. “Funny.” I turn my attention back to the legion. “I was just thinking the same of you.”

We do not need him
, Bale whispers.
Be done with him
.

Like we no longer need the goddess relic?

Precisely
.

Starting to move forward, Lake and Bax on either side of me, I smile. Gripping the emblem tighter, I let the moon goddess get the full dose of my thoughts. I will dispose of the mutant when I’m
sure
we don’t need him. I’m not confident in this quick-hashed plan, and he might still be of use as a bargaining chip later.

He’s setting you up, Prince. I can feel it. Kill him now!

“Quiet,” I hiss. Bax sends me a concerned look, but I shake my head. Clutch Kal’s proctor emblem. All in good time, I tell the goddess.

Then, as the palace doors begin to part and the combined forces of Perinya and Cavan funnel into the inner-court, I reach into the pack slung at my side. And dig out my flask.

I twist off the cap and savor the bitter sting of liquor hitting my lips before the pain engulfs my head. I chug through the searing, draining the flask. A scream rips through my brain, and I can envision the mental debris swirling in a vortex—the destruction being done in Bale’s wake. My mental capacity won’t survive.

I swallow the last drop and then fall to my knees.

“Prince…” Bax is beside me on the black dirt in an instant. “What have you done?”

Lake unsheathes his sword, confused, and aims it at Bax. “My Liege?”

Shaking my head, and immediately regretting it, I let loose a cry. “Goddesses! Ah!” I sink my hands into the earth and curl my fingers, digging in deep to center myself. “Stand down, Lake. I’m all right.”

But I’m not. This stunt has cost me plenty. Soon though, the blinding ache begins to lessen. I open my eyes, and the tunnel vision slowly starts to widen. My stomach roils, saliva dripping from my lips. I suck in a breath past the nausea.

“Go into my pack and pull out my other flask.”

Lake hesitates and looks over his shoulder at the Otherworlders quickly approaching the military line. As the liquor begins to seep into my brain, blocking out the rest of Bale’s violent rant, Lake reaches into my bag to get more of my supply.

“Maybe most of the celebrating should commence
after
the battle is won, My Liege?” Bax risks his limbs by taking the flask out of Lake’s hand.

Bax is worried I’ll overdo it, or trigger Bale’s wrath—which I’ve apparently already done. “Just keep it at the ready,” I say, motioning to Lake to help me stand.

With obvious annoyance, Lake sheaths his sword—all the while staring down Bax. But of course Lake won’t confront me, tell me that getting drunk as the battle is about to unfold is not the best action.

There’s no need, anyway. Bale’s already let me know.

But it’s worth all the discomfort. For now, I’m rid of her. I can think—almost—for myself. I cling to that and the token in my pocket. This may be the last time I’m able to do something that matters. Something that, after I’m dead and gone, I’ll be known for. Rather than that one prince who was possessed by a dark goddess that one time.

The metallic clash of armor and swords fills the air. The line of armies are a blur in the night.

Dusting myself off, I say, “Into the palace. Follow my orders”—I eye Bax—“and no one will die.”

♦
20
♦

Kaliope

T
HE WALLS SHAKE WITH
the energy of something powerful—machines. I bolt from my seated position on the cot. My eyes sweep the holding room, and when they land on Teagan, her expression knowing, anger latches on to me. Quick and biting.

“What’s happening?”

She lifts her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “The goddess can’t be stopped. Can’t be contained much longer. Her time comes soon.”

I roll my eyes. “What is happening
outside
, Teagan?” I pump my hands into fists, agitated. “Enough of your goddess babble. Something is going on in Court. Did you know of this?”

“My Liege, it’s all planned—”

“Stop calling me that!” I grip handfuls of hair, trying to stop the maddening desire to hurt her. It’s no more my Bale-tainted blood than Teagan simply being infuriating. Besides, according to Teagan, I’m not possessed. Not in the way Caben is. If any of the dribble that leaves her mouth is at all true, then the goddesses hid Bale’s stripped power in
me
.

The
good
powers. If you can call them that. The reason why I can heal, am stronger than most. And why my bond with Empress Iana can see more, feel more, than the other Nactue. Why the Goddess Alyah could speak to me during the Reckoning. But that doesn’t answer how I also have the power to bring madness. To hurt people.

But there’s no time to ask those infuriating questions now. The walls are trembling around us, and I can almost feel…

The holding room door
bangs
open. Barging through the entry wielding a sword, is Caben.

My heart lurches into my throat—out of excitement or fear, I don’t know which. Both are equally present, the combination powerful and conflicting. But the emotion is swift and whole. His blue eyes find mine through the cell bars, and he smiles.

I back up a step. I’m unarmed. And as one of his minions bursts through the door behind him, I’m outnumbered. Something inside me withers. If I’m to die by his hand, I didn’t want it to be this way. With me falling without a fight. I’d have done everything in my power to save him until the last moment…but I’d have—

I’m not sure I can finish that thought. Would I have killed him in the end? To try to save the others I love? Could I have run my sword into his heart, and then every other person Bale infected afterward? To what end?

I can see now that it’s more important to him to be rid of me. Rid of the threat, rather than for Caben to rescue his mother. That alone speaks of his determination to kill me—or maybe Bale has completely taken over.

As Caben approaches my cell, I suppose those questions that I never allowed myself to answer, to even think, no longer matter. He can obviously end me with so little reproach. And when he inserts the key and clicks open the lock, I decide he will. He’s through with games.

I lift my chin high. Roll my shoulders back. At least I’ll leave this world in the presence of someone I love. Even if that person is seething hatred for me right now.

A
boom
rattles the room, and Caben rocks to the side. Not from the blast, though. It barely registered in here, behind these thick walls. He grabs hold of a cell bar and sways. Then he moves forward, slightly stumbling. My eyebrows press together.

“My luff, it’s time we were leaving,” Caben slurs.

I scrunch my forehead even more, my lips parting. “Are you…drunk?”

“Prince!”

My head snaps to the side. Bax is suddenly in the room. My heart slams against my rib cage.

“Bax—get out of here!” I might have no chance against Caben’s newfound strength and Bale’s power, unarmed and outnumbered. But I’ll be damned if I won’t try to stall them long enough to save Bax.

But Caben extends his sword and aims it at me before I attempt to move. He smiles, and swivels the point. It just grazes my uniform, and then slowly moves down…over my breasts…

“Damn,” Bax snarls, and marches toward Caben. He places his pale hand on the flat of the blade and pushes it aside. “You drank too much, you lush.”

And my confusion is complete.

Caben’s eyes sparkle with the gleam of alcohol as his smile widens, revealing his perfect, white, princely teeth. “Did you miss me, sweetheart? I sure missed you. All two of you.”

Bax huffs. “Kal, there’s little time to explain. But trust me.” He offers me his hand. “You’re much safer coming with us”—he gives Caben a sideways glance—“than remaining here. I promise.”

I’m only stalled a fraction of a second while I assess Caben. My whole being fills with hope—and then I put my hand in Bax’s. “Did you happen to find my sword on your way in?” I ask, trying to temper my expectations. Caben is not cured. I need perspective. I have to know what is going on, but
first
—getting out of here.

“Or my transmitter?” I continue, wishing for all the things I depend on so heavily. But Bax only shakes his head.

“You’ll have to use this for now.” He nods to the Otherworlder standing near Caben. “Lake, please gift the newest member of our party with a weapon.”

The Otherworlder, Lake, presses his thin lips into a frown, but does as Bax requests. Handing Bax a sword, and then he gives it over to me. Immediately, I feel more in control of this absurd situation. At least some.

As Bax looks me over, making sure I’m all right, I spy Caben. I can’t keep my eyes from seeking his face. The tiny scar near his eye. His dark waves of hair. The way he’s now leaning on Lake for balance.

“Am I to get any sort of explanation?” I ask Bax, nodding toward a wobbly Caben.

Although I don’t feel threatened, not completely anyhow, I wrap my fingers around the hilt of my new sword tightly. Get a feel for the weapon, just in case Bale decides she’s tired of
this
game. Whatever the goddess it is.

Bax pulls me past Caben and Lake into the center of the holding cell. “Protector, I’m not altogether sure if your prince can be trusted, but in his own way, he’s fighting the dark goddess’s control.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “By drinking himself to death?”

“I heard that, little bee,” Caben calls out. Bax scowls.

“Yes,” Bax says simply. Then, “And I’m not sure how mentally stable he is…Bale’s done some damage.”

Glancing at Caben again, I try to govern the hope springing up inside me. But it’s already bubbling out of control. Maybe, when he’s like this, I can heal him? There’s so many what ifs infecting my brain. I have the sudden, fierce need to pray. Pray that somehow, Caben is strong enough to defeat Bale. Only I know that’d be a hopeless request.

“Don’t.”