Broken Stone (31 page)

Her heart was in her throat as they slipped inside, looking for an ambush from every shadow. The dungeon smelled of soggy straw and the air hung heavy with mildew. Lord Calkirk and two of his men occupied the closest cell. Just visible in the long shadows, Jessa could make out men loyal to various estates of Eltar.

“Master Hendel!” Calkirk cried, grabbing the bars of his cell. “Is it true, have Prince and Princess Ahlen come to unseat her charlatan of a brother?”

“Councilor Calkirk, she has. Don’t fret, we’ll have you out of there in just a moment.” Jessa took the keys from Blaine and began to fumble with the locks.

“What about the other Council members? Have you detained them yet?” Calkirk rubbed his balding head worriedly, as if he could make recent events disappear from memory if he rubbed hard enough.

Jessa smiled, hoping to offering him reassurance. She’d never seen him so agitated. “We encountered Councilor Felton in the corridor. He’s showing a few of our companions the way to Councilor Bosch. Once they’ve retrieved him, they are going to meet us, and Prince and Princess Ahlen, in the library.”

She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Calkirk paled even more. “Bosch can’t even pick up his own napkin, much less a side. But Felton is one of the boy Warren’s biggest supporters. We must warn them. I’m afraid to say, Emariya doesn’t have any friends in this fortress save myself, Princess Terin, and a few of the men.”

Garith heard a shriek as he raced up the steps. He doubled his pace, but could he get there in time?

Someone ahead of him cursed, but it sounded more like a wail then a war cry. Time was running out.

When he was about to burst through the stone-framed doorway, a fiery ball of red and black linen and silk streaked toward him, crashed into his chest and hurtled him backwards down the stairs. Garith barely managed to hold onto his sword and her without entangling the two as their arms and legs snarled around each other. At the base of the landing, his blade clattered to the ground while the she-devil panted above him, looking like a cornered deer.

Garith groaned, even as a smile played at the corners of his lips. “Don’t scratch, kitten. I’m not here to take you anywhere.” He shifted his hips, attempting to free his hands in a show of peace. He’d not forgotten their last encounter inside these very walls, plus he still had the claw marks to remind him.

“Run!” Terin said, as she tried to do exactly that. Except her fine skirt was tangled around her feet and underneath him, trapping them together on the ground.

Before Garith could ask her what they were supposed to be running from, he heard Khane cursing as he barreled toward them. “I’ll teach you t’ hit me with a broom, ya damned banshee,” the man muttered.

Wasting no time, Garith pressed Terin close against his chest then swiftly rotated until she was left seated on the floor. He grabbed his sword and spun in one deft swing, bringing his blade to Khane’s throat, where he paused. “I’m going to enjoy this. Though I didn’t expect to find you alive.” The last Garith had seen of Emariya’s cousin and former escort, Rink had just stuck a knife in between his ribs.

“That little barn rat stuck me good, but not good enough.” Khane leered, flicking his eyes behind Garith to Terin.

“We didn’t have a fair fight the day your friends hit me over the head. This time, though, we’ll see who wins.”

Khane didn’t balk at Garith’s challenge, and raised his sword to swipe the blade away from his neck. Garith smiled, pulled his knife from his belt and stepped forward, thrusting it into Khane’s bandaged side with all his might. “I didn’t say it would be fair this time, either.”

Khane moaned and doubled over as his eyes watered.

“Who’s the cat now, playing with their mouse?” Terin asked in a shaky voice from somewhere behind Garith.

Garith narrowed his eyes. “When you get to the realm beyond, tell the other spirits to stay out of Riya’s head or I’ll find a way to come for them too.” Khane’s eyes had just begun to register his shock before Garith offered him a clean death with one quick thrust. As far as he was concerned, it was more than the traitor deserved.

Terin flew into his arms as Khane’s blood crept along the floor in an ever growing pool. “Did you really hit him with a broom?” Garith asked.

Her eyes were buried against his chest, but he felt her nod. Chuckling, he tried not to think about how right she felt cradled under his arms. “Good for you,” he whispered. “Although, it’s a bit hard to see the difference in how you treat your friends versus how you treat your enemies.”

He had expected her to laugh, or maybe hit him. She withered into hysterical sobs. “I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have fought you. The stupid pull... Or maybe just the stupid me.” The sobs intensified.

Not knowing what else to do, Garith rubbed her shoulders. It wouldn’t do to be too forward with the princess of Thalmas, but it also wouldn’t do to not comfort the poor girl in front of him either, the one who had been so feisty only moments ago. “We’ve got to get the gate back up, and then we’ll find your brother and Riya and get out of here. Everything will be all right.

In an act Garith hadn’t thought possible, she cried harder. He stood there, helplessly, and let her cry for what felt like forever. At last, when she showed no sign of pulling herself together, he gripped her shoulders and gently pulled away from her. “I know you’re scared right now, but we’ve got to find your brother. He may need our help.”

The princess turned tear-stained cheeks toward him. Her voice was rough, her throat obviously raw from crying. “You can’t take me to my brother.”

“He’s forgiven you, Your Highness. He faced The Three to remove the pull so he and Riya could free you.”

She shook her head. “It’s too late. I’m with child.”

Time stood still. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the battle raging but it faded out as if in a long tunnel. His entire focus centered on Terin. Garith swallowed hard, remembering what Emariya had begged him to promise.
No matter what. Protect Terin. Even from Torian.

“I had my first vision. If I don’t run, Torian will kill her.”

Garith’s thoughts still raced. The visions were subjective, but could they risk it? Could he run again, this time with Terin? He remembered Riya’s eyes, and the way she’d looked at him after she returned to Damphries. His fingers dug into Terin’s shoulders and he squared his jaw. Decided. “It’s mine. Do you understand me? Never again will we speak otherwise.”

Her gray eyes widened. “What? I don’t understand.”

“How far along are you?” Garith asked.

“Not far... But...”

“All right then. As soon as we are done here, wed me, and we will tell everyone that it is mine. I’m not a prince, and I’m not even a noble, but I will protect you with my life. It’s all I have to offer—”

“You would do that, for me?”

He would have done it for Riya. She’d tasked him with protecting the princess, but she could never know that he had. How many people had betrayed her? Was this adding himself to that list?

The fire in Terin’s eyes, and the flutter in Garith’s heart, told him that maybe he’d do it for more than just Riya. There was no way he could ever feel for another exactly as he felt for his first love. But different didn’t have to be wrong. Garith smiled. “I would. I will.”

The walls began to shudder and groan around them. “I think Riya must have found Reeve. Come on!” Grabbing his bride-to-be by the hand, they fled toward the gate controls. They’d wasted too much time already.

Fire simmered just below Emariya’s skin. Her eyes and Torian’s met, and the look that passed between them reminded her of the moment before they confronted The Three. Once more they held hands as they prepared to barge into a room without knowing what to expect.

Reeve should be on the other side of the door, but would he be alone?

“I’ll be right here with you. You won’t lose me this time,” Torian said, as if he’d read her mind.

The stone walls of the corridor hummed as she armed herself with her anger.

Torian dropped her hand and readied his sword. With a last lingering glance at her prince, she pulled the door open and they burst into the room.

The first thing she spotted was the tip of the arrow notched in Alrec’s bow, pointed at Torian. Her eyes narrowed and flame arced across the room from several shoulder-height candelabra, converging together at the tip of Alrec’s arrow. He dropped the bow with a yelp and leapt aside.

Torian charged toward Alrec with a feral snarl, as Alrec drew his sword. Emariya turned her attention to Reeve. Her brother stood facing a large hearth with a candelabra to either side. One of his knees was cocked slightly to the side, and his arms rested at his sides, suspended casually from loose shoulders. The sword he’d favored for as long as Emariya could remember pointed toward the ground.

Striding into the room, Emariya brought a ball of flame to each palm. Something in Reeve’s stance made her pause. Was he just going to stand there in the midst of her strongest element and allow her victory? No, Reeve would never do such a thing. Emariya let her burning palms cool, suspecting a trick. Instead, she drew the energy toward the ground, sending a crack speeding along the stone floor toward the hearth.

He spun toward her and confusion blanketed his eyes. “No flame, sister?”

Debris from the ceiling began to rain down, and Reeve glanced up. Seizing the opening, Emariya sent a ball of flame surging toward her brother.

The look in his eyes as he shoved his palms outward bordered on satisfaction. The quickly spun ball of fire unraveled, blowing with him at the axis, in the center of her storm. Falling chunks of rock swirled in the midst of the flame.

“All you have?”

He was goading her! And if she wasn’t careful, she knew she’d play right into it. She always had, as a child. The walls trembled, shaking at the seams. “It’s time to end this, brother! Your days as the High Seat are over.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started. But enough of our games. We both know your command of the Stones is stronger than my own. Fortunately, I’m more creative—and you have a weakness.” Reeve grinned. Mist swirled from his palms and the chairs from the formal dinning table rose in the air, dancing and bouncing as if tethered on marionette strings.

Emariya’s eyes flicked to Torian, who was locked in a fierce battle with Alrec. Reeve’s eyes followed hers and when she met her brother’s gaze again, she understood. Reeve would get to her through Torian. She was about to call out to her prince, but gale-force wind began to blow at her side, pushing her toward the table. Before she could call to her fire, she was stunned into silence. Every chair at the table began to fly through the air toward her. She couldn’t leap aside because of the gust of wind now holding her in place.

She only had a single moment to react. Launching all the fire she could summon, she ignited the flock of chairs and breathed a sigh of relief as they exploded in mid-air, showering the room with sparks. Her victory was short lived as her brother’s most recent gust slammed into her, sending her to the ground and then sliding her across the floor.

A sickening
thud
was her first clue her head had found the wall. The choking pain was her second.

Last but not least, came Torian’s scream.

Her eyes were mere slits as she lay crumpled on the floor, watching the battle across the spacious room. Sleep offered her reprieve, but horror kept her transfixed.

Having dispatched his sister, Reeve stormed across the room, sending charged air as he went. Each time her prince’s sword would nearly find its mark, Reeve blew it aside.

“Stay out of this, Uncle. He’s mine.” With a glare that showed he had no more love for Alrec than anyone else, Reeve tossed him aside on a gust of air. Alrec hit the ground hard
.

Emariya dug her fingers into the floor, drawing upon the stone’s earthen healing properties, binding her aching limbs into a serviceable state, even as she winced from the pain. A giant weapon rack hung above the ancient stone hearth, displaying swords, lances and axes that had belonged to the Damphries family for multiple generations.

Reeve met her eye, and when he was sure she would see, he flung the entire rack off the wall.

Grandmother Irina, help. Please,
Emariya sent a feeble thought probing for her grandmother’s presence. She felt the answering surge of power, and with her rapidly waning strength she sent a gust of her own toward the swords, attempting to blow them off course.

Two of the blades grazed Torian’s arms, though he gaped for a moment as if in shock, not pain.

Emariya had to admit seeing the pristine blades soar across the room had been spectacular.

Her brother, however, found no amusement in his stunt being unsuccessful. Emariya’s heart skipped beneath her chest as a tendril of mist snaked from Reeve’s palm, winding its way to Torian and wrapping around his throat. As it began to strangle him, it shimmered and started to become ice.

Torian’s hands flew to his throat, and he collapsed.

“No!” Emariya cried, staggering to her feet. The estate walls around them trembled and groaned and several sconces shattered along the walls. Fighting back dizziness, she half walked, half crawled toward Torian until she was sure she was close enough. Reaching out a shaky palm, she sent a small wave of fire rolling across Reeve’s icy coil. Under the heat of her anger, it evaporated at once.

Emariya choked back a sob, and turned angry eyes on her brother. She’d lost Torian once, even if it had only been an illusion.
Not again,
she pleaded to The Three or whoever was listening.
Please, not
again.
Drawing on sheer determination, Emariya wobbled to her feet. Torian still lay on the ground behind her as she faced her brother.

Reeve worked his jaw, as if searching for words. “You and I, Em. We weren’t born for love.” He nearly choked on the word love, as he filled it with uncharacteristic emotion. “We have a duty, we always have. Mine was to protect you. Yours was to reunite the world.”