Chapter 29 Rorin
Rorin
“You are aggravating," she huffs, stomping past me – not appreciating my jest at our expense.
I hurriedly throw the buttons of my shirt back together as she flings open the door, not waiting to see if I’m ready yet.
Her face flushes when she catches sight of the empty room and table, and I can't help but laugh, leaning into her ear, "oh no…
having flashbacks?" The back of Eveera's hand flies out, hitting me squarely in my chest and knocking the breath out of me.
"Quiet." I lift my hands in defense, following her up to the head of the table.
She taps her fingers against her chin and begins to pace behind the chair, her brows creased in thought.
"Oh, good — you're both in here." Our heads lift to the sound of Armond and find him standing in the arched doorway. "They're ready for you."
The two of us exchange a look before turning back to him, Eveera's fingers drumming against the edge of the table. "No one else is in here. How could they possibly be ready for us?"
"It's no longer just the General and Caz; the rest of your guests have arrived."
"Everyone?!"
Armond nods, his uniform clanking together, "you're not one to keep waiting — I suppose they all got wind of that." She grows silent for a moment and gives him a subtle tip of her head before whirling on her toes, charging back through the passageway doors.
"Do we have a plan here?" I blurt into her mind. She doesn't give me a response as I chase after her, dodging the sharp curves of the walls.
The passage spits us back out into the throne room, and without her even needing to command it, the glass ceiling yawns open, and the ground begins to shake. From my right — I see the staff present in the room, flinch when Vada's large frame joins us, their fear obvious as they scatter.
And from my left, Eveera gathers her skirts into her arms and sprints up the dragon’s forearm, the two of them off and through the opening before I have a chance to stop her.
"Well, glad to see that you have a plan." She hums in response, and I storm out of the room.
The halls are as chaotic and confused as my mind, with staff and court members alike flurrying around.
"Rorin!"
My ears prick up at the sound of Will's voice, and I turn over my shoulder. He and Bennett are at the opposite end of the hall, crossing the stretch to meet me where I stand. "What is going on?"
“I wish I knew,” I answer, keeping my pace quick.
"You wish you knew?!"
My shoulders shrug, and I hear his arms flail out to the side as he whispers something to Bennett.
"Just keep up." The words come out sharper than I want, and guilt pangs in my chest. We wind our way through the castle, trying to follow any soldiers we can find, until eventually, we're spat out into the training yards.
Armond, Felix, and General Matthis all stand in a circle, their heads bowed, talking quietly amongst themselves. Armond catches sight of me first and motions for us to join them.
“I thought we were holding an audience? Where–” Felix swings out his arm, pointing over to where, in a stiff clump, stand the three Clan heads — the Matriarch of the Serpentes', Orik Chief, and the Shifter's Alpha.
General Imir and Caz are in that direction as well, but there's a noticeable distance between the two groups.
"We are holding an audience.”
“Outside?” Will interrupts. “That’s hardly–”
Bennett clamps a hand over our friend’s mouth, muttering apologies while Will shoves him off and glares.
Felix’s head shakes, ignoring their outburst, “Eveera asked us to bring them outside.”
When did she have time to do that? I muse.
“Maxwell and…" His voice trails off with his attention, "King Eloden—" he finishes, clapping his hands together, “we're grateful you could join us, old friend." He bows curtly, then turns to me, "His Majesty—"
"Rorin Collier, King Consort of Obsidian… yes, I know all about you and your… gifts." King Eloden grits, dipping his chin in forced politeness.
I plaster a tight smile on my face and mirror the greeting, "well, thank you for joining us.”
"You can thank your guard, Maxwell, here. He pleaded your and the queen's case." My irritation ticks up at his tone, and I resist the urge to argue that he accepted because he knew that his kingdom would be wiped out without question if he didn't.
A sharp cry rings out overhead of us, interrupting and stunning our groups into silence as we all clamp our hands over our ears. My eyes lift to the sky, and though I hear the heavy beat of wings, I can't see any.
"What the bloody—" My attention turns to Caz's voice, where a pool of inky black magic has surrounded his – and the rest of our feet.
"Nightmare, I thought we were meant to be making deals here — not scaring them off." Her raspy laugh fills my mind, but she brushes me off, her only response being another one of Vada’s eardrum-bursting roars.
Rocks spray over the courtyard, our guests scrambling backwards as we all tilt our chins to see Eveera and her dragon’s imposing form grappling onto the top of the roof.
She’s nestled in between the beast’s spines, keeping herself anchored as Vada tips forward, opening her armored jaws. "Everyone needs to hit the ground — NOW!" I shout.
Panicked, men and women scramble around, and I hear Will shout, "Ror— we have bigger issues than just your wife and her pet trying to roast all of us."
"Wha—" My head whips around, confused, and my stomach sinks at the sight of at least three dozen pairs of crimson eyes. "Fucking hell, Nightmare… if you'd wanted out of this marriage, you could've ended it a little more face-to-face."
"Quiet— I'm in the middle of something."
I give one last glance at her before tearing my sword from its sheath, Felix and Matthis following suit. The sound of metal grabs the attention of our guests, and they all look accusingly at me.
"What is this?" Eloden hisses, drawing out his own blade.
"I wish I had the answer for you."
He looks at me, horrified, but I already know what he's going to say even before he utters the words — "you're the King Consort."
"Unfortunately, that earns me no favor." The thought weighs heavily as I try to understand her point here. I'd known that she's been tampering with her Wield's development, what I didn't know was that she was drawing them in closer. As in at our back door — closer.
She’s caged us in on all sides, our guests growing increasingly more unsettled and restless.
"Don't move."
"You're not serious."
"Put your sword away and watch. Or do you not trust me?"
I growl in reply, but heed her demand, shoving my blade back into its place at my hip. "Your Majesty?" Felix tries, and I shake my head, sending a silent plea out that I won't regret this choice.
She commands the magic around our feet, making it impossible for us to move. The Orik Chief growls loudly, his face twisting in rage as he tries to break free of her Wield. That anger switches over to me, and I motion frustratedly at my own boots.
Do they not see me equally as trapped?
"She likes her theatrics." I huff, my grumbling met with a chorus of dissatisfied grunts. I'd argue further, but I can't, not with the pressure of my own Wield building the longer I stare past the crowd and at the unmoving, unblinking, inhuman red orbs.
"Is that all you've reduced my power to?" Eveera calls out, her voice sending chills down my spine.
I don’t know how she managed it, but I dropped my stare down to find her standing right beside me. From the corners of my eyes, I watch as most of our guests attempt to lunge at her. A wicked grin spreads across her face as each of them fails in their efforts.
Damn woman.
"King Eloden — your lands have been plagued with a threat for what? Several months? A year at best?”
The king's jaw feathers, "your point, Queen Eveera?"
“Mine have been plagued with horrid, grotesque monsters for over a decade, and recently I learned a horrifying little fact."
"And what, pray tell, could that be?" Will grits out next.
She rolls her eyes over at him, her eyes switching from their brilliant gold to black, “I’ll show you.” A tendril Wields out from her palm, the magic splitting our group and cracking sharp as a whip against the stone. "Advance."
I'm speechless, all of my nerves shot as I watch the wall of monsters move forward at her command.
"Necromancy…" King Eloden gasps out at the same time I overhear the General murmur to his companion, Caz, "do you think we were invited here just for the queen to kill us?
" While fear passes through the latter's face, there's no fear to be seen on the General's as he ignores the creatures and fixates on Vada.
Her focus is locked in as she manipulates them, the brand on my wrist growing hot with each mangled step the beasts take. "Eveera." I try, concerned that she might lose control, but she doesn’t shake.
She's too far gone into the trance of her magic.
"Rorin—" Bennett whines, "now would be a great time for the show to be over."
"I'm on it, Bennett, let me just break out of her hold." I hiss, sarcasm dripping off my tongue.
Despite being stuck in a Wielded tar pit, he spins the hilt of his sword in his palm, ready for the strike even without the use of his legs. "Smoke her out!"
"Excuse me?"
"Smoke her out. You’ve done it before. Make her stop, then we at least have a fighting chance against her pawns." I stare in disbelief over at him and then back at her. I can't. I think I don't know what chain reaction will result.
“As much as I usually enjoy your little games, Nightmare, but you have to come back now," I demand, pushing on her mental barriers.
A sharp, piercing shriek spears through our seal, and my hands snap up to my temples.
In a weak attempt to counteract the pain I push down on them, and from my peripheral vision, I see Bennett shouting at me, but I can hear no words.
The shrill sound is debilitating, the pain in my dull in comparison to what is happening in my head. Forcing my eyes open, I look down at Eveera. Her brow is pulled tightly together, pain clearly etched across her face, and her eyes still black as night.
I fight to pull myself out, needing to still our connection before my mind liquifies.
She thrusts her right hand upwards, and I watch as the monsters halt only a few feet from where we stand.
At this distance, I’m able to see that their expressions, while usually filled with an animalistic malice, are vacant.
Their attention completely honed in on their master.
"Kneel." She commands, her raspy voice contorted by her magic. Like puppets on a string, they all take a knee and gape up at us, the sharp noise abandoning. My knees threaten to buckle as I'm relieved of the torment, but I dig my heels into the stone.
One by one, she recalls the Wield wrapped around our legs and redirects it out to each of the creatures, her magic stabbing through their still chests, and one by one, each being disintegrates until there's nothing left but piles of ash.
Eveera's power — now satiated — is called back a final time to their tattooed vessels, and I slide behind her.
My forearm bands around her chest, securing her cold body to my chest, holding her while she calms down.
Despite my ire towards her at the moment — I won't allow her to fail in front of our guests
For a moment, the courtyard is completely devoid of sound save for the rapid breaths of adrenaline petering out. From the corner of my eye, I see Bennett's hand go up, "so… uh, what the fuck was that?"
"Well,” she huffs, guiding my arm from her chest to her hip as she straightens her stance. “I thought it was obvious."