Fantasyland 04 Broken Dove (87 page)

“I did as you asked!” she cried.

“Bring her to me.”

All the men turned to see the other Circe and Valentine in the room, Tor having come in behind them.

Apollo moved until he was toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose with the witch, and he clipped, “You said they were safe.”

“Bring the woman to me,” she demanded then stepped leisurely to the side and turned her eyes to Frey. “Call your elves. We meet on Specter Isle.”

Tor moved to her side, ordering, “Send us there now.”

Valentine turned to him. “With the triad intact, their magic is too strong. I can’t get you there. I can’t get
me
there. And Lavinia has fallen to Helda.”

Apollo’s gut twisted at this news and Valentine kept talking.

“We will have to be clever. For the elves to do their work against our foes
and
for Lavinia, we will have to be swift. And we will have to have hope.”

Apollo opened his mouth to speak but Valentine continued before he could utter a word.

“As I suspected, this is a battle of sisters and magic. Just sisters and magic. Both the same thing. Not all good. Not all evil. We shall see which side prevails. But you must trust in good for
our
side knows allies whose bonds are formed in ways that cannot be broken.”

Apollo felt something unpleasant shift inside him and whispered, “You knew. You knew our plan would fail.”

She looked to him. “I told you,
mon loup,
I do not have the sight.”

He leaned into her and thundered, “
You knew!
”

She didn’t respond to that.

She said, “Keep your wolves at the ready around the palace and bring the woman to me.” Her eyes stayed locked to his. “Bring her to me, Apollo. To win, we need our own evil. There is only one thing more powerful than vengeance and if you bring her to me, we will have both on our side.”

Apollo held her gaze and clenched his jaw.

Then he stepped to the side and turned to Frey and Lahn.

“Give her Franka.”

Frey didn’t move. Lahn only moved to straighten away from the woman still on her back on the floor.

It was Achilles who shifted forward, helped Franka from the stone, and escorted her as any gentleman would do, as only Achilles would now do, to Valentine.

“Take hold of my arm,” Valentine ordered her.

“I don’t—” Franka started, shrinking away.

Valentine pinned her with her gaze.

“Do you seek vengeance?” she asked.

Franka hesitated before lifting her chin and answering, “Yes.”

“Then take my arm,” Valentine bid.

Franka wrapped her fingers around Valentine’s arm.

Valentine looked to the other Circe. “Gather the children. If the choice is to be made, you know the only protection that will keep them safe. Your life for theirs.”

The mood in the room, already dark, turned pitch.

Circe nodded.

Valentine lifted her hands.

Frey, Lahn and Tor gathered around Apollo.

“Bring them back,” Apollo growled.

Valentine smiled a cat’s smile.

“Oh
chéri,
have faith.”

Gods, the woman was bloody infuriating.

The green mist formed.

Franka and Valentine disappeared.

But Valentine’s final words could still be hard.

“Remember, love is everything.”

* * * * *

Maddie

Holding tight, we’d been falling but we landed with a thud that buckled our knees, each and every one of us.

Recovering, I jerked my hands, pulling Cora and Circe closer. Obviously, they did the same for Finnie was just as close, we four forming a tight huddle.

“All right?” Finnie asked.

“All right,” Cora whispered.

“Yeah,” Circe said.

“Okay,” I replied.

We looked at each other then we looked around.

“Fuck,” Circe breathed.

She had that right.

We were in a mammoth room that had to be at least the size of a football field. It was entirely made of grayish-white blocks of stone.

There were two gigantic wooden doors behind Finnie. They were at least two stories tall and made of grayish-white wood with what looked like pewter hinges. It also looked like it’d take half a dozen men to open them.

And last, they were closed.

But that wasn’t the bad part.

No.

The bad part was that we could see this beyond the glimmering, flickering, ethereal blue bars that formed a cage.

I looked up, seeing the bars curved in at the top, making an enormous, magical birdcage.

Well, one thing was certain, Minerva had a thing for birds.

Cora shuffled closer and I looked her way to see she was looking over her shoulder.

“Not good,” she mumbled.

I looked that way and went stone-still.

This was because the cage was situated close to some steps leading up to a dais.

And on that dais was a large throne that looked to be made of gray-ish white branches that swept out and up, ending in lethal-looking thorns.

Sitting on that throne was Pol.

And last, snuggled in his lap was Cora, the Nasty.

Fuck.

We all turned toward them in unison, letting each other’s hands go but tightening our huddle.

Cora, the Nasty was grinning down at us.

Pol was scowling down at me.

Fuck.

“Looks like those two found their perfect match,” Cora muttered under her breath.

It was funny.

It was also true.

No one laughed.

We all just stayed close and watched the couple watching us.

Unfortunately, Pol moved.

He rose from the throne, lifting Cora with him. He put her to her feet and slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his side.

She cuddled tighter, wrapping an arm around his waist.

And in that position, they moved down the steps toward our cage.

We all stood still and watched them.

They kept coming.

I fought my teeth worrying my lip as Pol continued to approach, every move he made he did it with his eyes glued to me.

They came to the glistening blue bars of the cage and I held my breath.

My stomach dropped when they walked right through.

The women shifted and did it shifting me so they could surround me.

But Pol didn’t stop close.

He stopped five feet away and the instant he did, Cora, the Nasty turned into him and curled both her arms around his middle.

Her eyes were aimed at Cora, the Awesome.

After I noticed this, I aimed my eyes back to Pol.

When I did, he lifted the arm that was around Cora’s shoulders and waved his hand in the air.

I hadn’t noticed it.

Then I did.

And I felt my lips part in terrified awe.

“Nice,” he said low, his voice sinking into my skin and not in a good way. “Steel,” he went on and my eyes darted to the shining molten silver hand that moved like a normal hand but was absolutely
not.
“It’s heavy,” he continued then finished, “But it works.”

The women pressed in closer around me.

“Yours,” Cora, the Nasty put in at this point and I tore my eyes from Pol to look at her and see she was still looking at Cora, the Cool. “Flawed,” she carried on and cuddled deeper into Pol. “Mine is
perfect.
”

Pol curled his arm tight around her again.

I felt bile fill my throat.

We all jumped as we heard the loud creak of hinges fill the space. Then we all looked over our shoulders to see the doors swinging backward.

In walked a round man wearing a red velvet cloak with black velvet breeches, exceptionally gleaming black boots and a shiny red silk shirt.

When he got closer, I noticed he also had mean, beady eyes.

He stopped outside the bars of the cage, looked in, his gaze moving straight to Circe.

Then it went to Pol.

“Is that one mine?” he asked.

“No,” Pol answered. “Yours is coming.”

The man looked back to Circe and at the look on his face, this time I had to swallow down the bile when he declared, “If I don’t get her, I’ll take this one.”

“Baldur,” Circe murmured low.

Fantastic.

“Watching them all these months,” Cora, the Nasty stated and we all looked her way to see she’d disengaged from Pol and was prowling a circle around us. “They all seemed so brave.” She stopped and tipped her head to the side, studying us. “Not so brave without swords at their back.”

Again, my body froze except my eyes, which shot to Pol when he said, “Seems I’ll finally get a kid outta you.” My breath froze when he continued. “Me and Cora, we get to raise yours.” He tipped his head Cora, the Righteous’s way. “And hers.”

Oh boy.

This was getting worse.

“Edith wants the ice,” Baldur said and we all looked to him to see him looking at Finnie. “She wants it because she wants the dragons and elves. She’ll be taking yours.”

Oh God.

And worse.

“Yours just goes,” Baldur went on, his gaze moving to Circe. “As do the other two you pushed out for that savage. For me to have the Southlands, the Golden Dynasty must fall.”

I reached out, grabbed Circe’s hand and her fingers tightened around mine the instant mine found hers.

“It’s gonna be fuckin’ cool, havin’ the wolves,” Pol said, and I looked to him to see he had moved to Cora, the Bitchy and claimed her again. “My woman, she just wants a place called Bellebryn. Likes the castle there. So that’ll be hers.”

I clenched my teeth so I wouldn’t bite my lip and held his eyes, knowing he was not done.

And he wasn’t.

“’Course, this means that not only does the blonde bitch’s kids have to bite it, all of them do.”

Shit, shit,
shit.

“Viktor is the next Frey
and
Drakkar,” Cora, the Terrible put in. “With him gone, and with the help of Minerva, the girl child you carry will make history being the first female to command the elves and dragons. We have you to thank for that, not being of this world, sharing the strength of your love for your husband with your female child. It makes not only the one you carry but the ones all of you carry immensely powerful.”

There it was. Our coinciding pregnancies weren’t a coincidence.

They knew this was going to happen and they planned to take away our babies.

“That’s why your girl will command the wolves,” Pol added my way. “Obviously, after we get rid of the boy.”

My insides squeezed.

Chris.

“And your girl will take over the Northlands,” Cora, the Bad told Cora, the Good. “We’ll rule for her at first, of course. But Minerva has grand plans for her.” She leaned in and smiled with saccharine sweetness. “
Grand
plans. She chose well with you and Prince Noctorno. She’ll mold a powerful witch from the child you make.” She leaned back and her eyes scanned us all. “She’ll mold powerful witches from
all
the girls you make.”

“So you brought us here so you could steal our daughters?” Circe asked.

“She’s a quick one,” Pol murmured on a grin down at Cora, the Awful.

“It was Helda’s idea,” Baldur shared and we all looked to him. “Knowing it takes great magic to build love between the worlds. Magic greater than the dragons. Greater than the elves. Greater than anything. Magic the kind neither world has ever known. Minerva splitting the souls of Prince Noctorno and his bride gave her the idea. Then the stories came from the ice lands, the savage lands. Love forming legend. She knew if she could harness that magic, well…” He tipped his head to the side. “She also knew she couldn’t do it alone. She approached Minerva, they recruited Edith and, of course, they had to have those of us who wished to take care of the day-to-day tasks of ruling nations once they dispatched the mightiest of warriors, claimed their powerful daughters, and conquered the land.” He walked forward, came through the bars, and tipped his head Cora and Pol’s way. “That’s what we get.”

“So, essentially, to be a ruler the only quality you have to have is being foul?” Cora, the Bomb asked.

Baldur took no offense. I knew this when he smiled an oily smile.