Dark Promise (16 page)

“As you wish, my child.” Her face turned solemn. “You must be strong, Cassandra. The only way for you to save him is to touch the Golden Tree and breathe life into its dying soul. It is heavily guarded. The king will do anything to keep you from touching it, including kill you. Only one more leaf remains and it will fall tonight by the setting of the Underworld’s two suns.”

Arctic chills clenched Cassandra and she wanted to run back to the inn and hide under the cover. “I understand.”

“If you need me, call me, Cassandra,” the Wraith promised. She waved.

The ground underneath Cassandra rumbled and cracked. A crevice widened. Before Cassandra could protest, she and the bench fell into the rift. She screamed.

Down, down, down, she plummeted like a pebble thrown into a bottomless black well. Frosty wind roared around her and her hair whipped her face. Brittle cold nipped her bones. She waved her arms and kicked her legs, but only kicked air.

The darkness lightened and a cobalt sky emerged. She fell through white fluffy clouds, hurtling toward the ground. Below, Castle Basilisk’s towers loomed and cast long dark shadows onto the town. Cassandra gritted her to teeth to keep from screaming. She closed her eyes, threw her arms over her face and prepared to be smashed into the ground.

She stretched out her arms and pushed out her palms. Castle Basilisk’s courtyard was coming up on her fast and she gritted her teeth, waiting for the jarring pain and bones broken, but her falling slowed and she plopped onto a shady corner of the courtyard. Instead of green lawn, she landed in a cluster of drooping red and yellow tulips. She spat out dirt and a yellow petal. Their long stems curled and brown, some tulips lacked petals and were just naked stems.

She dragged herself to her feet. Three guards, the size of professional wrestlers, stood in front of the tree, staring straight ahead. In the middle of the courtyard, Eric swayed naked between two posts, his wrists and ankles bound.

She stifled a cry.

Blood trickled down his chest.

She fought the urge to run toward him and free him.

A thin, lanky man ran his fingers down Eric’s back, and lust reflected in his red eyes. Gryffin?

A small body curled up near Eric’s feet. Bruises and welts covered his back. Toby lifted his head, brown hair hanging in his face.

“Tell me where she is prince,” Gryffin demanded. He twisted Eric’s balls.

Eric threw his head back. “No!”

His body trembled. He protected her, enduring torture for her.

Cassandra sobbed and took a step.

“No, Cassandra,” the Wraith warned. “You will die. Get to the tree.”

Cassandra jerked around, but she was alone. Where was the Wraith?

The horrible man released his balls and Eric stopped screaming. Pain was etched deep into Eric’s eyes.

Going against her every fiber, Cassandra wiped her tears away, forced herself to run to the wall. Hugging the wall, she edged closer to the tree. Bright, open lawn stretched between her hiding place and the tree. She'd be exposed.

Her heart quickened and she tried to call on her reserve of bravery to make the long run, but her shaking legs refused to move.

Focused on Gryffin and Eric, the guards moved away from the tree. The bastard slapped Eric across the face and kicked Toby, eliciting a groan.

“Drake, stop.” Eric’s voice sounded parched, harsh.

Cassandra bit her lip. She wanted to help Eric and Toby, but what if the Wraith was wrong?

A loud smack brought her back to Eric. His lip bled. His gaze met hers. Eyes widened, his face paled.

“Guards!” From the shade, a blonde woman pointed at her. “Seize the bitch.”

12

The three guards rushed her.

Cassandra's heart stopped. She pressed against the castle wall, wishing her ring could make her disappear.

“Well, well.” One of them sneered. He nodded toward Eric. “You’re his mate? The supposed chosen one? The king wants a word with you.”

Another guard pulled a gun from his holster. His smile didn’t reach his hateful red eyes. Cassandra clawed the wall behind her. She opened her mouth to scream, but only a tiny whimper escaped her lips.

“Bring her to me,” a man said. “Unharmed.”

Shuddering at the hissing voice, she turned. A thin man leered at her. God, this was going to be bad. Real bad.

“No!” Eric arched his back, howling.

Crap, she was about to be ripped apart by a pack of starving coyotes. “Wraith,” she yelled.

The wind blew. A small tornado formed near the guards, taking in dirt, sand, twigs and rocks. It spun faster and faster, descending on the approaching guards. They aimed their guns at Cassandra, but their guns were whipped out of their hands. Rocks, dirt and sand pelted them until they fell to the ground.

“Run, Cassandra,” the Wraith’s disembodied voice rang from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Stumbling, she bolted toward the Golden Tree.

“Guards,” a man yelled.

Cassandra ignored him and focused on running toward the tree.

More gorilla sized guards poured out of the keep, their fury bent on her. She picked up speed. The tree was at least fifty feet away. She could make it.

“Cassandra look out,” Eric shouted.

The king flew toward her. He yanked out a pistol and aimed it at her. She dove on to the ground and rolled. He fired and a swish of a bullet whisked past the top of her head.

Sweat poured under her arms and slid down her ribs.

“Damn you, Wraith,” the king cried.

The man shot his pistol into a spinning dust storm. His salt and pepper black hair flew around him. She sprinted toward the Golden Tree.

“Wraith, get her out of here,” Eric commanded.

Cassandra ignored the flapping of wings, shouts and pounding feet around her. Bullets whizzed around her and she was surprised none of them hit her. Was this due to the Wraith? She kept running. Only a bus length away. She stretched her arms, extended her fingers grasping for the tree.

Cruel fingers yanked her hair. Cassandra screamed.

“I don’t think so,” a man spat. “You’re failed. You’re mine.”

He jerked her around and dug his fingers into her arm. With her neck stretched back, Cassandra was forced to stare into Gryffin the Torturer's narrowed red eyes.

“My, you are beautiful. No wonder the prince protected you.”

A malevolent smile spread across his face and he pulled her closer to him. His syrupy breath turned her stomach. He licked her face. “You taste sweet.”

She shuddered and reached to pry his fingers loose of her hair, but he only pulled hard, zapping the strength out of her. He grasped her breast and pinched hard, hurting her nipple. She cried out and pushed on his hand and stomped on his foot.

“I fancy a woman with spirit,” he said. “I’ll ask the king to let me play with you before he kills you.”

She slammed her elbows into his gut, kicking his shins.

“Oh, yes, my little marlin, you will die and die slowly.”

His laugh chilled Cassandra’s blood.

Gryffin gurgled. His fingers loosened, releasing her hair and she jerked free. He stared at her with wide eyes and open mouth. Blood dribbled out of the side of his mouth.

Stomach swirling, she staggered back.

Crimson spread across his chest. Eyes closing, he stumbled then crumpled to the ground.

Eric stood gripping a sword, dripping with blood. “Now, Cassandra, move.”

Next to him, Toby wielded a sword, his hand trembling.

More guards rushed Eric and Toby. They faced them head on.

Cassandra turned and rushed toward The Golden Tree. If she failed, they were dead. Shots rang out and metal clanged, but she only had eyes for the tree. She lunged and her fingers brushed its trunk. A shimmer ran up her arms.

A female whispered faintly, “Awaken me. Breathe on me.”

Not sure if she trusted the voice, Cassandra filled her lungs and exhaled into a small black hole in the bark until she was out of air. The Tree trembled beneath her. Cassandra blew into the hole two more times. “Please awake.”

“I am now.” The female voice was stronger.

Blood thundering between her temples, Cassandra stepped back. A yellow spark glowed in the hole and Cassandra smiled. She'd done it.

Someone grabbed her around her waist and whirled her around. The blonde woman pressed a dagger into Cassandra’s neck. “Eric, drop it or I’ll kill your precious mate.”

Eric stood in the midst of four dead guards. His sword and pistol fell to the ground.

“Eric, no,” Cassandra whispered. She wanted to fight, but they were outnumbered and weaponless. To come all this way and fail. She blinked back tears of frustration.

A guard lunged at Toby, snatched his sword and shook him. “Bloody fool.”

“Mother,” Eric whispered. “Don’t do this.” Eric was a warrior begging like a small boy. How could his mother be so cold?

It broke her heart. A tear slid down Cassandra’s cheek. She had fulfilled the prophecy. Why had nothing changed?

“What?” His mother pressed the dagger deeper into Cassandra’s throat. Warm liquid trickled down her neck.

Shit, she was about ready to be one of Henry the III”s bride.

“You don’t want me to hurt your little bitch?”

“I beg you not to hurt her.”

“In a few moments,” his mother said, “you’ll both be dead. Your father and I will rule together. Wraith, let Harrison go.”

The king crashed to the ground. “Damn Wraith.” He pulled himself off the ground and dusted his shirt. “Nice job, Caroline.”

“You’re welcome, Harrison,” she purred.

Terrific. Two psychopaths sweet-talking each other.

The king punched Eric in the mouth. Blood sprayed, and Eric staggered. “Now, you’ll see what happens when you attempt to spoil my plans. Traitor. Guards.”

Two men seized Eric. By Eric's stare, he’d allow them to do what they wanted to him as long as she was safe. What went wrong?

Suddenly, the dagger flew out of Caroline’s hand and embedded into the ground a few inches from them. Cassandra elbowed Caroline as hard as she could and stepped away.

“Guards,” the king shouted. “Seize her.”

“No.” A female voice blasted.

Cassandra trembled.

“I’ll kill her with my bare hands,” Caroline said and lunged for Cassandra.

Cassandra dodged her and Caroline stumbled past her.

“Stop.” The voice was strong, forceful, powerful.

Bright light blanketed the courtyard and the scent of jasmine filled the air. Peacefulness rushed over Cassandra and her trembling ceased. The once dying aspen tree’s golden leaves shimmered on every branch and as the wind rumpled the leaves, a sweet musical melody emitted from the tree. A faint song, a song of beauty, love and forgiveness. The Song of Tranquility.

The bark dazzled white and the branches were strong. The outline of a beautiful, golden-haired woman formed on the bark. A crown of white stars glimmered on her head. The woman studied Cassandra with crystal eyes. “You have fulfilled the prophecy.”

Her lyrical voice squashed any remaining fear within Cassandra. The woman stepped out of the tree. “I am the Music of the Underworld.” The woman spread her arms and a luminous ray glowed around her, filling the courtyard. “All will be restored.”

Warmth swirled around her finger. Rather than just engravings, glittering gold leaves decorated her silver ring. It was so beautiful. She ran her finger over the smooth surface and was surprised to hear a melody, the same one the Music of the Underworld sang.

Stars burst through the light and descended to the ground. Each time the stars hit the ground, a purple or white columbine sprang up until a sea of purple and white swayed in the breeze. The woman dropped her arms.