The Underground Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (39 page)

Tiergan swung the
axe toward the Prince’s neck, but rather than duck away, or lose his head as Tiergan would have preferred, the Prince grabbed the smooth handle and pulled Tiergan into a match of strength. As they struggled to win control of the ax, the handle twisted and turned in the air, their feet dancing in circles. The Prince narrowed his eyes suddenly, Tiergan found his strength weakening. Or rather, the Prince’s strength increasing. Desperate to retain the axe, Tiergan sought to distract the Prince.

“I used to beat her every day.” Tiergan said through clenched teeth.
“She turned black and blue over every inch of her.”

The Prince lost control of the handle. He stumbled back and slammed
against the wall, his face turning a darker shade of red.

The Prince shook his head and his color returned to normal as his eyes narrowed in on
Tiergan. Tiergan stood over the Incenaga, axe in hand. The Prince shot to his sword like a rabbit and snatched it up, turning the blade in his hands as he closed in.

Tiergan
swung with the axe, but the strength of the sword pushed him a step away from the Incenaga. The Prince smiled and swung again. Tiergan fell back another step. The fight escalated and the further Tiergan moved from the Incenaga, the more the Prince seemed to find control of himself.

Tiergan swung the axe in perfect circles, high above his head and across his chest
. He had been enjoying the fight, watching the Prince fall by his own weakness for the Incenaga, but it had changed in a moment so quick he almost missed it. He didn’t miss, however, the moment the Prince had managed to maneuver himself between the Incenaga and him. Tiergan was now the one across the room, with the Prince hovering over the Incenaga. With a smirk, the Prince crouched low, waiting for Tiergan’s next move with cool composure.

Tiergan
had seen only one other person eliminate fear from their eyes and replace it with strength. And he suspected she was dead at the Prince’s feet. A waste, he thought, thinking of her great display of power when she created the gorge. Frustrated with his loss of control over her, the loss of his greatest assassin, and the loss of the war, Tiergan lost himself to the rage boiling inside him. Before he knew it, his anger began dictating his every move. He swung with brute force, but the Prince deflected with ease.

The storm raged inside Tiergan’s mind. Without the Incenaga’s power, he could do nothing
on his own. Demyan had been the one to guide him from his youth, directing him in the direction he should go – not that Tiergan admitted it to anyone – in fact, he hadn’t even admitted it to himself until that very moment. He could no longer claim the man’s plans as his own. Without his assassin, he had no idea which direction to go. No idea how to win. All was lost.

Unable to collect himself, Tiergan swung his axe without thinking. The Prince jumped over the blade and thrust his sword into Tiergan’s shoulder.
Tiergan stumbled backward, griping his injured shoulder. He curled his lips back, showing his teeth and with a scream of rage and fear, he charged toward the Prince with his axe held high.

The Prince
crouched low, bending to his knees and before Tiergan could clear his thoughts, the Prince had thrust his sword into his soft middle. The Prince jumped to his feet, preparing for another attack but Tiergan fell to the floor.

“You will never touch her again,” the Prince seethed.

Tiergan’s gaze tightened. “She’s already dead.”

The Prince swung his sword high and then everything went black.

Erick unbound the old woman and child, lifting the burlap from their tear strewn faces and frightened eyes. And then he bounded toward Emmeline. He lifted her into his arms and cradled her to his chest as the others circled around him.

“She’s still breathing,” Erick whispered.
“It’s shallow, but still there.”

Burungi stood
at the door alongside the woman. “Her skin is so pale,” Burungi murmured more to himself than to anyone in the room. “And her lips are the color of death.”

Erick shot a warning glance at Burungi. He wouldn’t give up on Emmeline and neither should anyone else. He moved to carry her from the room but the old woman put a hand on his arm.

“She killed this man by her own choice,” she said gesturing to a man lying on his back, his blank eyes staring at the ceiling. “You need to prepare yourself that she may not survive this.”

“
She’ll make it through.”

The old woman pursed her lips.

“Find me water,” Erick said to the boy. “Maybe she is thirsty. I doubt she had much to drink in the pit.” His voice broke on the last word.

The boy rushed to the corner of the room
and scurried back with a clean cloth and bowl of water. Erick took the cloth, dipped it in water and squeezed a few drops into Emmeline’s mouth. He dipped the cloth again and stroked the wet fabric across her cheeks and forehead. She didn’t respond to his touch. Erick glanced up at the old woman who bit so hard on her lower lip that he expected to see blood.

“She isn’t going to
live,” the old woman said.

“Don’t speak such things!” he said as his chest
tightened. He bit back a sob. “She is a fighter! You don’t know her like I do.”

“I know enough,
young man,” the old woman said. “What I was going to say before you interrupted me was that she isn’t going to live unless I do something about it. O’fin, get me fire.”

“Yes!” Erick shouted. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it himself. Emmeline spent so much time avoiding fires that he had pushed the very thought of flames into the back of his mind.

“It will be of no use to Emmeline,” the old woman said. “She cannot absorb any heat in this state.”

Erick’s shoulders fell. “Then what do you intend to do?”

The old woman took a lit candle from O’fin’s outstretched hand and flashed her eyes at Erick. “I’m going to heal her.”

The boy gasped. “
But you said you were too old to use your power. When I asked you to save Emmeline from Tiergan, you said it would kill you! You said you weren’t strong enough anymore!”

Flora
patted the boy’s head and smiled, “That is right, O’fin. It will take the all strength I have left, but I will gladly give it for my granddaughter.”

“You are
an Incenaga?” Erick asked “but I thought –“

“You thought a great deal, young man”
the old woman quipped. “I am Flora, her grandmother, and yes, I’m an Incenaga, but I have been in hiding all these years. Now let me near Emmeline.”

Erick held Emmeline closer to him.
“What are you going to do?”

“I won’t harm her.
”

The boy named
O’fin sobbed into Flora’s arm. “Don’t do this!” he cried.

Flora turned to him and wrapped her arms around him.
“If I don’t, Emmeline will die. Do you understand that, O’fin? She had to complete a task too great for her powers and it took too much from her. You want Emmeline to live, don’t you?”

O’fin
sniffed, “Yes, but I don’t want you to go away.”

“I’ll still be near, and Emmeline will take care of you, I’m sure.
Tell her I love her and that I’m proud of her.”

O’fin nodded.

“Now hush, dear boy. Everything will be as it should.”

O’fin
hung his head and sniffed.

“I can’t ask you to do this,” Erick
said.

“You aren’t asking. I’m giving.”
She held the candle at the edge of the curtain until the fringe lit on fire. With a gentle blow, the curtain burst into flames and the room flooded with heat. Flora told hold of Emmeline’s hand and shut her eyes.

Erick
looked at Emmeline and brushed his hand across her cheek. He didn’t understand what Flora was doing, but within seconds color returned to Emmeline’s face and her eyes fluttered open.

“Erick?” she whispered.

“Emmeline!” Erick responded. “Oh, Emmeline! I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He smothered her in kisses, his tears mingling with hers. She kissed him in return, filling him with love he thought he didn’t deserve. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer until no space existed between them.

“I can’t believe you came.” S
he sobbed in his shoulder. “I thought I would never see you again. I hated the way I left you. I didn’t mean a word of that letter. I’ve always loved you and always will.”

“I was a fool for believing it.
Forgive me for not coming for you sooner.” He kissed her again, his lips caressing each part of her face and neck. He squeezed her closer but she still didn’t feel close enough. He never wanted to let her go but the boy’s quiet sobbing reminded him of what Flora had done. He pulled back from Emmeline and his breath caught in his throat. Emmeline gasped.

While still beautiful and serene looking, Flora had withered into nothing more than skin and bones. Her breathing had stilled, her skin had turned cold, and her lips had dried into a pinched circle.

“I thought I saved her!” Emmeline cried. “I saved her!” She buried her head into Flora’s chest, her hands clinging to the fabric of the old woman’s dress.

Erick kneeled next to her and rubbed her back in slow circles.
“She saved
you
,” he whispered.

Emmeline
straightened and wiped her eyes. “Me?” She shook her head.

Erick nodded
. With wide eyes, Emmeline turned to O’fin and the boy bowed his head. She looked at Burungi and the woman and each of them nodded sadly. And then Emmeline’s face drained of color.

“Emmeline?” Erick said, worried she would return to her weakened state.

Emmeline stared ahead at the man she’d killed. Grief cast a shadow over her face and Erick wished he could brush it away for her.

“She warned me and I killed
him anyway. And because I didn’t listen, I’ve killed Flora.”

“
She wanted to heal you,” O’fin said. “She said she loved you and was proud of you.”

Emmeline fell
back onto Flora’s chest and her shoulders shook with sobs.

As much as it pained Erick, he
let her cry. He ached to console her, but knew she needed to work through the grief on her own. It wasn’t until Commander Benshi found them and declared the battle a success that Erick lifted her from off the floor.

“Come, my love,” he said.
“It is time to go.”

“What about
Flora?” Emmeline sniffed.

“We’ll carry her across the sea and lay her to rest near your mother.
I’m sure you’re father will direct us to the proper location.”

“Yes, I never thought of that.
I think she would like that. Thank you.”

Feeling unworthy of her gratitude, Erick gathered
her into his arms once again. “I don’t deserve you. Thank you.”

“For what?” she said, burying her nose into his shoulder.

“For loving me. For still wanting to be with me.”

“
I’ll always want to be with you – in Dolmerti with our people.” Emmeline felt a sense of love for Dolmerti wash over her and she knew she was ready, more than ever before, to take on the mantle of caring for its people.

Emmeline turned to the others in the room. They had stepped back during their reunion and had kept quiet during
her grief.

“Marja?
You’ll come to Dolmerti, won’t you?” Emmeline asked. “You can bring Rahn if you want.”

“
You would take an enemy soldier?” Marja asked.

Erick cleared his throat.
“Who is Rahn?”

“He loves Marja,” Emmeline said, as if that would be enough of an answer for him. He
searched Emmeline’s face. Did she really want to bring Grietians to Dolmerti? What if their loyalties remained with their fallen king and they sought retribution?

“They can never be together here,” Emmeline whispered. “It is against their customs for soldiers to marry.”

“But he’s an enemy soldier,” Erick said. “He can’t be trusted.”

“He never wished to serve King Tiergan,” Marja
said. “Nor have I.”

“
You could be together in Dolmerti,” Emmeline said. “Is that okay, Erick?”

Erick looked from Emmeline to Marja, both their faces filled with hope. He cleared his voice again and chuckled. Who was he to deny Emmeline something she wanted? He would just have watch Rahn himself and if the man gave even the slightest hint of loyalty to Griet, or the tiniest bit of threat to Emmeline, he’d find another country
where they could dwell.

“I suppose,” Erick said with a nod.

Marja smiled. “If Rahn survives this battle, we would love to join you, Incenaga,” she said.