Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose and tapped my pinned hand against the man’s legs in a show of surrender, and his arms fell away.
“You almost took me out with that sword,” he chuckled, tugging down the hood of his cloak. “I know I promised to give my life for you, but that wasn’t really what I had in m—”
“Taran!” I whisper-shouted. I turned and threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. “ Gods, am I glad to see you.”
His arms looped around me and squeezed, his own relief showing in the crushing force of his embrace. “You scared the hell out of us, going missing like that. Lu’s about ready to burst a vein.”
I pulled back and stared up at him, unable to keep the smile off my face. He was wearing his trademark grin, his ruggedly handsome features framed by messy dark blonde waves.
When I’d first met him at the palace, Taran had been the only Corbois cousin to treat me not as a Queen or a lowly half-breed, but as an equal. Our mutual love of sparring, dirty jokes, and teasing Luther had quickly earned him a place as one of my dearest friends.
He’d also proven himself willing to tell me the hard, unflattering truths I needed to hear, and that had made him a valuable ally.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
He snorted. “If I tell you that, Luther might slice off my balls. You’ll have to pry the truth out of him, if you can.”
My smile fell away. “I heard him out there. I think the mortals caught him.”
“Oh, he walked right up and turned himself over. We were hoping they would chain him up next to you so I could find you and break you both out. By the time I saw you sneaking around out in the trees, it was too late to stop him.”
I groaned. “I really need that man to stop putting his life at risk for me.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“These mortals have godstone weapons, Taran. A lot of them. If Luther tries to fight them...” I shook my head to clear the dark thoughts of how badly this could go. “What was your plan to get us out?”
“Well, I... uh...” He scratched the back of his head. “I hadn’t really made it that far. I’m not usually the brains of the operation.”
“ Taran! You let Luther give himself up with no plan to get him out?”
“He’s High General. He didn’t exactly ask permission. Besides, it was better than what he wanted to do, which was shove swords through their eye sockets until they gave you up.” My mouth hung open, and Taran nodded somberly. “Luther’s always been a little terrifying, but when it comes to you, Queenie...” He shuddered.
I walked to the tent’s entrance and pulled the flap closed all but an inch so I could peer out unseen. Luther was on his knees, his hands bound behind his back, surrounded by a throng of mortals several heads deep. The Sword of Corbois lay in the grass a few feet away. Cordellia stood in front of him, talking too quietly for me to hear. Whatever they were discussing, it had Luther glaring at her with poison in his eyes.
Taran came up behind me and squeezed my shoulders.
“We’ll get him out,” he assured me. “And we have help. Look.”
He pointed to the woods on the far end of camp. At first, I only saw a dark swath of foliage, but slowly the face of a woman edged out from behind a tree, her myriad piercings glittering under the moonlight.
“Alixe!” I gasped.
Taran pulled the flap open wider and waved at her, then pointed excitedly at me and grinned. Alixe rolled her eyes at her cousin’s antics, but she flashed me a smile and a deferential nod.
My tension eased enormously. As Luther’s right hand in the Royal Guard—and my newly minted military advisor—Alixe was a clever strategist and a fierce, capable warrior. She was exactly who I would have chosen to find a way out of a problem like this.
But my burgeoning hope was dampened by the glittering black points aimed at Luther’s chest. The mortals could be jumpy around Descended, not to mention their willingness to take their vengeance on whichever one of us they could.
I sank back into the darkness of the tent, chewing my lip as my mind raced for a solution. Alixe would surely have a plan, but could we get to her without being seen—and before the mortals took their anger over my escape out on Luther?
Taran cocked his head. “How did you get out of the camp? And why were you sneaking back in?” He looked me over, eyebrows furrowing. “And why are you soaking wet?”
“Long story,” I sighed. “We need a distraction. One that won’t end with them turning us into pincushions with godstone arrows.”
“How did they get so much godstone, anyway? I thought the Crowns destroyed it all. It’s bad enough that we have to worry about rebel bombs.”
“Bombs!” I cried. “That’s it! There’s a stockpile near the horses. We’ll set one off and disorient them, then we can sneak Luther out.”
“Using their own tricks against them. Ruthless, Queenie.” He smirked. “I like it.”
“There’s just one problem—how to light the fuses.”
“You’re a Crown, your light magic works here.”
“Not anymore. They’ve been drugging me with flameroot. It nullifies Descended magic.”
Taran’s face blanched. “Mortals can nullify our magic?”
“It wears off after a few days, but for now, I have nothing. I’m guessing you don’t, either?”
“Well... I shouldn’t ...” He stretched out his palms and stared down at them. His muscles tensed as if he were straining against some invisible force. “I felt my magic go dark when we stepped over the Lumnos border, but on the journey here, every now and then, it almost felt like...” His forehead wrinkled as he strained again, fingers flexing and curling. After a moment, he grunted and shook his head. “No. Nothing here, either.”
I grabbed the broadsword, then pulled my hood over my head. “I’ll have to get a flame from one of the firepits.”
“Let me do it. You’re the Queen, you should get someplace safe and hide.”
I shot him a lighthearted glare. “Don’t insult me, Taran. I’m not that kind of Queen. Keep an eye on Luther, and wait for me near the horses. There are a few already saddled—if we’re fast, we can grab them when we escape.”
Taran sidestepped to block my path and frowned down at me. “Luther’s not going to like this. Between the two of you, I’m not sure who I’m more scared to cross.”
He pulled a thick leather baldric from his shoulder, then grabbed my broadsword’s discarded scabbard and swapped it for his own. “Take this, at least,” he insisted, securing it across my chest. He pulled a sheathed dagger from his boot and tucked it into my waistband. “And this. Oh, and take—”
I put my hand on his chest to still him. “I’ll be fine, Taran. I’ll meet you at the horses.”
He blew out a breath and raked a hand down his face. “Lu’s going to kill me.”
I grinned and gave him a final swat on the arm, then turned and slowly crept out of the tent. The crowd had tightened around Luther, blocking him from view, but I could still hear the deep pitch of his voice arguing with Cordellia. The sound of it, the knowledge it gave me that he was alive and close by, rekindled my courage as I wove through the tents.
A few mortals scurried by, their shoulders brushing mine as they gossiped excitedly about the new hostage. Despite the late hour, half the camp had been roused after my disappearance, and the other half was now being awoken by the commotion. If we didn’t get out soon, there would be more mortals than even four strong Descended could realistically take on. As it was, I was struggling with the looming possibility that I might soon have to choose between my Descended friends’ lives or a mortal’s.
My pulse picked up speed as I neared the edge of the tents. The crowd spilled into the pathway, forcing me to tuck my chin and murmur pardon me and just passing through .
When I finally emerged, my heart sank. A long line of darkened firepits lay extinguished for the night. There wasn’t a single glowing red coal, let alone a flame to be found.
I wandered in search of an untended lantern or forgotten flint, finding nothing of use. One quick, simple option rose into the sky behind me—but it was also the biggest risk.
With a deep breath, I pivoted on my heel. I kept to the edges of the crowd and craned my neck in pretend interest in the hostage while side-stepping closer to the roaring bonfire.
Cordellia stood with her back to the flames, and with the intense heat of the blaze, few of the Guardians had gathered behind her. By the time I made it to the stone perimeter circling the logs, I was almost entirely exposed.
As slow as I dared, I made a show of stoking the fire. Sweat beaded my brow and trickled down the column of my throat. A partially unburnt branch lay just inside the wall of flames. I reached for it with a trembling hand.
My body locked up as memories of the armory attack surfaced. I felt it all over again—a heat so thick I couldn’t breathe, flames so close they blistered my skin. I’d almost died there, among the smoke and the collapsing wreckage.
For a moment, I’d wanted to die there.
But, like a phoenix, the sigil of House Corbois, I had arisen from the ashes of that fire different than the woman who’d gone in.
We’re not reborn in the flames, Eleanor had told me. We’re revealed.
That night had opened my eyes to the true path of my life. I could not live with the Guardians’ brand of justice-through-bloodshed, but neither could I do nothing while my people withered under Descended rule. Though it took the gauntlet of the Challenging for me to finally accept it, the flames of that inferno had not changed my fate, they’d illuminated it.
I stilled the quivering of my hand and removed the branch, a bright flame flickering at its tip. With a leisurely pace that bordered on excruciating, I strolled along the ring of stones.
As I passed behind Cordellia’s back, I couldn’t stop my face from turning to Luther. He’d always been a magnetic force I could never seem to resist.
When my eyes hit him, his gaze was already waiting for me. Though he showed no flicker of surprise or recognition, I’d long since learned to read the invisible signs of his heart. I knew the turmoil churning in his mind at knowing I was safe yet incredibly at risk. I felt the unbearable restraint it took him not to launch himself forward and shield my body with his own.
Instead, he did the next best thing.
Luther threw his head back and roared into the night. His shoulders arched behind him as he unleashed a long, crazed snarl at the moon. The crowd of mortals seized in fright, a number of them scrambling for their weapons as others stumbled into each other to back away. Even Cordellia flinched and shifted to a fighting stance.
It was a gift—a distraction to give me a chance to flee. I pursed my lips to hide my smile and scurried away, making a mental note to tease—and thank—him later.
Mercifully, the path to the corral was clear. The man I’d overheard earlier was still on watch, but like the others, he was entranced by Luther and his bizarre display. Just beyond the mortal, Taran’s delighted grin shone from the shadows.
I dipped my chin and hurried past. The man abruptly spun to face me. “You there—what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I blurted. “I’m going to help with the search. It’s dark, so...” I wiggled the makeshift torch, hoping that was explanation enough.
“You can’t take an open flame this way—if the hay doesn’t catch fire, the bombs will. You’ll get us all killed.”
I took a step back. “Right. I’ll just... um...”
“Wait a minute...” The man walked closer, squinting down at my hip. “How did you get my sword?”
Shit .
He lunged forward. I darted just out of his reach, but the movement jostled my hood, revealing my face and stray wisps from my milk-white braid in the moonlight.
His eyes bulged, and he stumbled back a step. “I found her!” he shouted. “I found the Qu—”
Taran’s hand slammed down over his mouth as he came up from behind and dragged the man off his feet. “Go light the bomb,” he hissed. “Hurry!”
“Don’t hurt him,” I pleaded, provoking an incredulous look from Taran as he fought to keep the thrashing man contained. “They’re mortals , Taran.”
He groaned in exasperation. “Fine. Go! ”
I bolted toward the bombs, my heart stumbling each time the flame sputtered and threatened to die. Shouting rang out behind me, though I couldn’t tell whether it came from a friendly voice or a hostile one.
I skidded to a stop in front of the wooden cart and threw off the waxed canvas sheeting. There were containers of all sizes and shapes, some with thick liquids visible through clear glass bottles, others made of welded metal boxes that rattled when shook.
During my time in the Lumnos cell, I’d never been privy to the secrets of the Guardians’ homemade bombs. I only knew they were extremely powerful—and extremely deadly.
I grabbed two at random and tucked them under my arm, then sprinted back for the campfire. I couldn’t risk setting them off near the tents where the children might be sleeping, but I had to get close enough to send the mortals into chaos.
“Why do you have those?” a voice shouted as I bolted past. “You there, stop!”
“Old Gods, Lumnos, Kindred,” I mumbled as the sound of running boots thundered behind me, “I could really use a favor from one of you right now.”
I darted into the tree line at the edge of camp, then grabbed the larger of the vessels and held it up to the flame-tipped branch.
“What are you doing?”
A woman approached, gaping at me in horror. Her eyes locked on the bomb’s fuse as it sparked and caught fire.
“Run,” she screamed. “She’s got a bomb!”
As she fled back into camp, I gingerly set the vessel on the soil, my heartbeat racing faster with each burnt inch of the fuse.
I followed the woman’s path. “Bomb,” I repeated, keeping my hood low and the unlit explosive tucked beneath my cloak. “Take cover!”
A wave of brown eyes, centered by a pair of blue-grey, snapped my direction.
“Bomb!” I yelled again. “ Everyone, r— ”
The forest exploded before they got the chance.
The fiery burst sent me flying face-first into the soil. Muffled ringing filled my ears while shrapnel of charred bark shot through the air. A fog of smoke and burning embers rolled into the clearing.
The Guardians scattered like ants. Some fled into the forest, others ran for their tents, and a few brave souls pulled their weapons and charged toward the site of the explosion.
Cordellia’s authoritative voice cut through the commotion. “Round up the children and injured, get them to the beach. Archers, to the trees. Prepare the ballista—if the gryvern is back, let’s be ready.”
I clenched my jaw at her order, thankful Sorae was far away in Lumnos. On hands and knees, I crawled toward Luther as boots scurried in frantic circles and blocked him from my view.
A woman crouched at my side and put a gentle hand on my arm. “Are you alright?”
I swatted her away. “You should go.”
She kneeled and reached for my hood. “Were you injured in the blast? I can h—”
“ Diem! ”
I jerked upright at the sound of Luther’s shout. Through a break in the swarm, I spied four Guardians dragging him away, their blades inches from his skin.
“Y-you...” the woman stammered, scrambling backward.
“I won’t hurt you,” I promised. I raised my palms in innocence, but as I did, the second bomb dropped from under my arm and tumbled to the grass in front of me.
She let out a blood-curdling scream. “Bomb! The Queen has a bomb! ”
I swore and snatched the explosive, then shot to my feet. With her shouts at my back, I ran to the campfire and lit the second fuse, then reared my arm back and prepared to throw.
My gaze crossed with Cordellia’s. Her brown eyes flared wide with recognition of who I was and what I had done.
“Diem,” she warned. “Don’t.”
But the fuse was short, and there was no time left for apologies. I hurled the bomb toward the tree line and ran.