Royal Champions Vs. Evil Minions Round Three
As they escaped the Lord of Grimnight’s dungeon, Delilah couldn’t resist looking over her shoulder.
They were already beyond the cells, so she couldn’t see her cousin’s face, but she could imagine it.
The shock at finding himself on the other side of the bars.
The hurt, as he realized that even after everything he’d done to protect them, they didn’t trust him.
She wanted to turn around and unlock Trey’s cell. Ask him to join them in earnest. But what if he did betray them again? What if he chose his father—his real father—over her?
Delilah made herself leave Trey behind.
“Shouldn’t there be another guard here?” Fitz asked as they reached the entrance into the dungeons. All they found was an empty chair and table.
“Who cares?” Angelica said. “Let’s get out of here before they come back.”
Delilah stared at the empty chair as they passed it, knowing that Trey had somehow cleared the way for their escape.
“Careful on the stairs.” Maximus stopped at the bottom to see everyone make their way up safely. When a root tripped Delilah, he was there in an instant to catch you. “I’ve got you,” he whispered as he set her back on her feet.
Without her magical collar, Delilah’s limbs all felt wrong.
There was no tail to balance her, no reflexes to rely on.
If only she hadn’t lost it in the fight.
Selfishly, she wanted to split off from everyone else to find it, but she knew breaking the curse was more important.
She could find it once they succeeded. Or worst-case scenario, ask her uncle to make her a new one.
At least Uncle Rick was still part of her real family.
Everyone paused once they reached the top of the stairs. “Did anyone find any signs of the anchor?” Fitz asked.
“I found the mage’s study,” Angelica said. “On the third floor.” Her expression darkened as she explained, “I didn’t have time to search it before Wilde found me. I can’t believe we ever trusted him.”
Maximus grunted in agreement.
“But Wilde helped us,” Delilah argued. Who was he really working with? Trey, or the Lord of Grimnight?
“Under false pretenses!”
“But maybe he knew about Trey’s plans. Maybe they’re both working to undermine the evil mage—”
“Or maybe he’s just evil,” Angelica interrupted. “I won’t make the same mistake of trusting him twice.” She raised her golden rapier so the point was only an inch from Delilah’s chin. “If you even think of betraying us, we’ll lock you up with your cousin.”
“I’m not a traitor!” Delilah snarled, smacking the rapier away from her.
Fitz stepped between them, one hand on Angelica’s shoulder and one hand on Delilah’s to physically force them apart. “Enough. We’re supposed to be fighting the evil mage, not each other.”
Angelica huffed and lowered her sword. “Since Wilde stopped me from searching the study, that could mean the anchor is up there.”
“It’d be a risky guess. There aren’t a lot of exits from the third floor. The last thing we want is to get cornered and captured again.”
“Trey and I were headed to the courtroom,” Maximus suggested.
Fitz hesitated. “The Lord of Grimnight did gather us all there … maybe it wasn’t just because of the acoustics—maybe he was hiding the anchor in plain sight.”
Delilah shook her head. “But there wasn’t anything in the room except the—”
“Throne,” everyone said at the same time.
Fitz’s eyes widened. “Of course! The throne is a tree and we’re in a fucking cursed forest! The roots probably spread through the whole city, carrying the curse with it.”
“So, if we destroy the throne, we break the curse,” Maximus said, his expression hardening with determination.
Before they could destroy the throne, they needed to understand what kind of fight they would face.
Delilah scampered away to scout the throne room, her footsteps light and her body low to the ground.
The doors were still wide open, and she peeked around the corner, ready to duck at the first sign of a guard.
The room was completely empty.
She returned to the others to report her findings.
“What do you mean empty?” Angelica demanded.
“I mean no one was there.”
Instead of taking Delilah’s word for it, Angelica stomped toward the courtroom doors. The others trailed after her, keeping an eye out for any guards.
Sure enough, the room was empty.
“Well,” Fitz said, keeping his voice low. “They probably think we’re still in the dungeons. Who else would they need to guard the anchor from?”
Angelica scowled and crossed her arms. She did not appreciate being underestimated. There was supposed to be a fight. A grand finale. Not this … lackluster ending.
Delilah approached the throne slowly. It seemed larger now that it sat empty, more imposing.
The sharp branches jutted out at odd angles, ready to skewer anyone who came too close.
She remembered how the Lord of Grimnight had looked sitting in it.
The branches had enveloped him, welcoming him into their embrace.
“How do we destroy it?” She’d forgotten to whisper, so the simple question echoed through the large, empty room.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
Delilah whirled around to see the Lord of Grimnight standing in the doorway behind them, cutting off their exit.
He’d forgotten to raise the hood of his cloak, revealing his face for the first time.
Silver blond hair curled around his ears and across his furrowed brow.
He had a straight nose, a weak chin, and full, pouty lips.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see any resemblance to Trey.
“Guards!” the lord shouted. “Wilde! Get in here!” He pointed an imperious finger at the champions. “Go back to your cells right now!”
“Or what?” Angelica demanded, raising her rapier.
“Gods, I don’t have time for banter.” The lord raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
Nothing happened.
He snapped them several times in a row. “Fuck it.” His hand closed into a fist, and he drew it through the air like drawing a sword from a scabbard. Shadows coalesced into a huge black longsword. The shadow blade swung straight for Angelica’s head.
She raised her rapier to defend against the blow and grunted at the impact.
“I promised not to kill you,” he snarled. “But I’m evil, and promises are meant to be broken.” He pulled his hand back, preparing for another strike.
Delilah pounced at him, but before she connected with her target, a large hand grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and yanked her back.
“You called, Master?” Fyodor asked, his voice a low, calm grumble.
“Kill them,” the lord snarled. He slashed toward Angelica again, cutting a chunk off her skirts when she dodged out of the way. “If they won’t cooperate as hostages, we’ll send their corpses back to their precious kingdoms as a warning of what’s to come.”
Delilah thrashed in the orc’s grasp, trying to claw the arm holding her. All she managed to do was scratch a few thin lines against his tough green skin.
Suddenly, he dropped her to her feet. “No.”
The lord’s head jerked toward him in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t pay us enough to kill royalty.”
While the lord gaped at his minion’s refusal, Angelica lunged to strike at his ribs. He gasped in outrage and focused on dodging and defending himself, meeting Angelica’s sword strike for strike. “Wilde!” he shouted again. “The minions aren’t cooperating!”
Delilah wanted to help Angelica, but every time she got close, one of the swords almost cut her.
After almost skewering her, Angelica shouted, “You’re just getting in my way! Worry about the throne!”
“Don’t you touch my throne!” the lord snapped, attacking with renewed vigor.
Delilah glanced at Fyodor, afraid that if he joined the fight, Angelica would be overpowered.
He arched an eyebrow at her, then purposefully walked to the other side of the room. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, signaling that he wouldn’t join the fight on either side. If the lord raised his salary, that might change the situation.
Hoping the lord was as stingy as he sounded, Delilah left him to Angelica and ran across the room to join the others in front of the throne.
Maximus welcomed her with a soft nod, but Fitz barely glanced at her, too focused on the throne. “If only I could have taken those books,” he muttered.
“They belonged to the library,” Maximus said.
“Books are meant to be borrowed from the library, not hoarded there!” Fitz huffed, giving up the argument. “The problem is that I don’t know how to destroy the anchor.”
Delilah may not have fangs or claws anymore, but she had two working hands. That should be enough to separate the branches. “Why don’t we just—”
“Wait!” Fitz and Maximus shouted at the same time, but they were too late.
Delilah had already grabbed the nearest branch. A twig sprouted straight through her hand, dewy with fresh blood. Her scream echoed off the high ceiling, temporarily drowning out the sounds of clashing blades. Anyone who didn’t know they were here before knew now.
Maximus grabbed Delilah and helped her extract her hand from the throne. The branches stretched toward them with sharp, reaching hands. He picked Delilah up and carried her a few steps away.
Tears stained her eyes as she cradled her injured hand. The wound looked too small to be the source of the burning, throbbing pain.
“Only the Lord of Grimnight can sit on the throne.”
The champions whirl around to find Wilde standing behind them, his gaze on the throne.
“You!” Maximus lunged for him, but his hands closed on empty air. In a blink, Wilde had disappeared.
Wilde reappeared standing in front of the evil throne, blocking them from getting any closer. “Leave.”
Fresh roots burst through the polished floor. They slid past Wilde without touching him, aiming straight for the royal champions who had dared to threaten the throne.
Even as they backed away, Fitz tried to reason with him. “You have to understand that we aren’t leaving until we break the curse.”