Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Theo raised a hand to shield his eyes from the flying dirt.
He’d thought it was coming toward them in a wave, but he realized now that they were in the center of a whirlwind.
He could feel Elowen warm at his back, huddling against him to protect her own face.
He had no idea how he’d stayed at her side.
He’d felt the gust force him backward away from her, and for a split second, he’d fully expected to be lifted from his feet and flung backward.
But then he’d felt a sharp tug, and the next thing he knew, he was yanked back toward Elowen, able to pull her behind him and shield her.
It took all his willpower now not to turn and enfold her in his arms, to try to keep her safe from all sides. But his instinct told him it was more important to keep his body between her and the enemy.
Because Bertrand was inside the whirlwind as well.
“Princess!” Bertrand’s arms were over his face as he struggled through the plunging chaos. “Where are you? Come here, I won’t let Simeon hurt you!”
“No, Bertrand.” The other voice, strong and defiant, was Theo’s first clue that a fourth person was inside the dust maelstrom. Simeon struggled forward, fighting to stay upright. “Not this time. I won’t let you hide your crimes behind me.”
Anger twisted Bertrand’s features. “Bad things happen when a servant forgets his place, Simeon.”
“I won’t let you hurt Sophia, either,” Simeon said fiercely. “I’m stronger than you, Bertrand, and I’m done being your puppet.”
“You’ve lost, Bertrand,” Theo shouted over the melee. “You didn’t manage to kill me, and you’ll never be able to win Elowen. Don’t make things worse for yourself by persisting. Every one of us knows this storm is your creation, not Simeon’s.”
“Don’t be absurd.” Bertrand gave a nasty laugh. “I have no skill in magic, as everyone knows. Simeon, on the other hand, is celebrated for his prowess.”
“I didn’t do this,” Simeon protested. “I don’t know how you did, either.
There was no source of movement big enough to turn into this.
” He gestured around him at the swirling tunnel of dust they were still trapped inside.
In spite of his visible exhaustion, his expression was determined.
“But now that the storm is providing so much movement…” He trailed off, a look of concentration then alarm crossing his face.
“What’s wrong?” Elowen cried.
“All the Dust is still locked into an active enchantment,” he shouted. “I can’t access it. I don’t know how that’s possible.”
Bertrand was so quick, none of them realized he was in motion until his fist came crashing down on the back of Simeon’s head. The servant, too focused on his magic to defend against such a physical attack, crumpled to the ground.
“Simeon!” Elowen screamed, leaping forward, but Theo stopped her with an arm around her middle.
“Stay back!”
Theo kept his eyes fixed on Bertrand, realizing that he was sliding some kind of metal object back into his pocket. He’d hit the servant with more than just his fist, it seemed.
“Keep away from us.” Elowen’s voice was fierce, and she’d positioned herself right against Theo’s side.
“I was protecting you,” Bertrand insisted. “He said it himself, he was trying to get the magic back from his wind to make another attack.”
“Who are you performing for?” Theo snarled. “We know what you are, Bertrand.”
A very ugly look settled onto the viscount’s face. “Then you know you’d be unwise to cross me.” His gaze fixed on Elowen. “Come, Elowen. I’ve had enough of your games.”
“You’re the only one playing a game, Bertrand,” Elowen told him. “And you’ve lost even that. I never belonged to you, and I never will.” She turned her eyes up to Theo’s. “I belong to you.”
“Elowen.” He hardly knew how to put words to the tangle of emotions rising in him as he drank in her upturned face. His thumb brushed gently along her chin. “You don’t belong to anyone.”
“I know,” she assured him, her voice soft and something in her eyes that made his heart beat at double speed. “I was just speaking in language Bertrand understands. I’m trusting you to know me better, to understand what I’m really saying.”
“Enough of this.” Bertrand’s voice was no longer as raised, and Theo realized the wind was slowly losing force.
Whatever enchantment Bertrand had managed, it wasn’t limitless.
“We could have made Torrens the strongest it’s ever been, but I should have known you were too childish and misty-eyed to play any useful part.
” He loomed out of the swirling dust. “I was never going to allow the alliance to go ahead, and if I have to eliminate both of you to ensure it, instead of just your prince, so be it. I’ll see you dead before I see you a Siqualian’s wife.
” His mouth curled in a sneer. “You’re not indispensable to Torrens, and you’re certainly not necessary to me.
I’ll replace you in a heartbeat with someone more malleable. ”
Anger bubbled within Theo, but Elowen just gave a disbelieving laugh. “Is that supposed to distress me? I pity any girl who catches your eye, Bertrand. You’re mad to make these threats so openly. You can’t think you’ll get away with violence against us.”
Bertrand’s answering laugh made the hair on the back of Theo’s neck prickle.
“Of course I will. When the Dust dissipates, and it’s clear you were all felled by magic, do you think I’ll have any trouble convincing them Simeon did it, and his own enchantment ricocheted on him, too?
” He pulled the metal object from his pocket again.
“Tragically, I’ll be the only survivor.”
His movement was so quick, Theo barely had time to throw Elowen behind him again. His arm was raised in front of him, and he let out a grunt as something invisible slashed across it. Blood dripped down from the wound as his mind tried to catch up with what it was seeing.
“Theo!” Elowen cried.
“I’m all right,” he said quickly.
The cut was shallow, a fact that seemed to frustrate Bertrand. He raised the object again, his eyes full of malice.
“I don’t know how you got inside the storm,” Bertrand growled. “But don’t get in my way. I’m doing her first on purpose, because I want you to see what happens when you try to take from me something that’s mine.”
Something fierce and determined flamed to life within Theo.
It went beyond anger, beyond even fear. It was a bone-deep certainty that he would do anything to protect Elowen, because he loved her.
He wanted her to be safe, to be his, to be by his side forever.
He wanted it with his whole being, and that desire wasn’t something to fear or deny.
It was something to treasure. And it was his fuel as he threw himself toward Bertrand.
“Theo!”
The name turned to a scream on Elowen’s lips as Bertrand again brought his strange weapon slashing through thin air, and another slice appeared on Theo’s other arm.
Pain lanced through him, but he pushed it aside.
He’d been asleep since the evening before, moving through the world in a haze.
Everything was sharp now, and clearer than it had ever been. He wasn’t about to hesitate.
He collided with Bertrand, but the force of his impact didn’t dislodge the weapon from Bertrand’s hand as he’d hoped.
“Elowen!” Theo shouted, as he wrestled with the viscount in an attempt to stop him wielding it again. “It’s a magic weapon. Use magic to defend yourself!”
“If Simeon couldn’t harness this wind, there’s no way I can,” Elowen cried.
“Bertrand doesn’t control everything,” Theo reminded her. “Just the small patch he wants you to see. Reach beyond the storm for movement!”
Bertrand landed a punch in Theo’s distraction, and he barely got his lacerated arms back up in time to stop the other man from breaking free. The viscount’s sneering laugh reached his ears.
“She won’t be able to reach past the storm. We’re sealed in.”
Movement drew Theo’s eye, and he risked a glance at Elowen.
She’d dived for Simeon’s prostrate form, and seemed to be tugging at the other man’s pocket.
Theo couldn’t afford to keep watching. His mind was sharp, but his body was still affected both by his recent illness and his injuries.
Bertrand managed to wrench an arm free, slashing the weapon through the air with his eyes on Elowen.
Theo shouted in rage, but no cry of pain came from the princess.
He twisted frantically around to see her still standing, her expression determined as she wielded a large, fanlike object.
She was swirling it in a figure eight pattern through the air, stirring up a steady trickle of Dust which she had obviously used to good effect.
Bertrand’s incredulous growl brought a grim smile to Elowen’s lips.
“You forgot one other thing you don’t control, Bertrand,” the princess said. “Me.”
Taking his opening, Theo shifted his grip to Bertrand’s wrist, bringing his hand down with all his force against his own leg.
The strange object at last clattered to the ground, and Theo kicked it away.
Bertrand lunged after it with an angry shout, exposing his back.
Theo tackled him, pinning him to the ground just as the swirling wall of gravel and dust finally faltered, then, with unnatural abruptness, dropped away.
Instantly a cacophony of shouts and screams reached their ears, and their small space was flooded with people.
“What’s going on?” Prince Patrick demanded. “What was that? We couldn’t see or hear anyth—” His eyes widened as they found Bertrand, still being crushed under Theo’s weight.
“Paulson,” Theo said, ignoring the Torrenese prince. “This man just tried to kill both me and the princess. He needs to be securely detained.”
“And searched for any more strange objects,” Elowen interjected, as the Siqualian guards all hastened to obey their prince.