Royal Champions Vs. Evil Minions Round Three #2
Wilde watched them with cold, black eyes. “You won’t win this. Your options are to leave or die.”
“Trey helped us,” Delilah said. She tried to read Wilde’s expression, but she couldn’t gauge how her cousin’s name affected him. “He went to a lot of trouble to help us escape the dungeons. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? You’re in love, right?”
Maximus snorted derisively. “That was probably a lie too.”
A muscle ticked in Wilde’s jaw. “You don’t know anything about us.”
“I know enough. I’ve seen the way you treat him. The bruises you left behind. The—” Maximus yelped as he suddenly disappeared.
A loud scream sounded above their heads. Delilah looked up, eyes widening as she saw Maximus falling toward them.
The branches leaned forward to catch him.
It would save him from colliding with the ground, but they’d probably skewer every part of him.
Just before he landed in the throne’s outstretched limbs, he disappeared again.
A few seconds later, he popped back into existence a foot above the floor.
Even though the distance had significantly lessened, he grunted in pain when he landed.
“Master Wilde, Master Wilde!” the imps cheerfully called as they flew into the room. “We’ve come to help you fight!”
“He’s not your master! I am!” The Lord of Grimnight snarled. In his distraction, Angelica almost pierced him with her rapier. He yelped and danced out of the way, sword rising to block at the last second.
The imps blew raspberries at him. One of them shouted, “We like Wilde better!”
“You little—fine, it doesn’t matter. Follow Wilde’s orders, if you must! Wilde, tell them to get rid of the champions!”
“You don’t have to obey him!” Delilah insisted. “You’re your own person. You don’t have to be evil!”
Wilde’s lips quirked in a soft smile. “But I am evil.” He waved a hand through the air and a long bundle of ropes appeared. “Tie them up and take them back to the dungeons.”
Delilah hissed at the imp approaching her. It paused for a second, then puffed out its cheeks to try to appear bigger and braver. She swatted at it, sending it tumbling through the air.
“This isn’t fair!” it complained. “You’re bigger than me!”
Maximus snatched one of the imps from the air and chucked it at Wilde. It squealed in fright and covered its eyes as it braced for impact.
Instead of dodging, Wilde caught the imp and gently cradled it in his arms before releasing it. “Careful now. You know better than to go near the throne.”
One of the imps snatched Fitz’s glasses off his face, leaving him blind again. “Give those back!” he shouted, chasing the imp. His fingers repeatedly brushed the imp’s barbed tail, its foot, but never closed on anything solid.
“Nyah, nyah, I got your glasses!” the imp said in a sing-song voice as it circled Fitz’s head.
His hand finally closed on its tail. As he started to yank it down, something else yanked on him.
With a choked yelp, he and the imp both crashed to the floor.
He snatched his glasses up and shoved them crookedly onto his face.
Once he could see again, he twisted around to discover that one of the roots had ensnared his ankle.
It slowly but steadily dragged him toward the blood thirsty throne. “Someone! Help!”
Maximus grabbed his hand, using all his strength to stop Fitz’s progress. Two imps pummeled his back and his head, trying to force him to let go.
Behind them, Angelica’s energy began to flag.
She was used to duels, which had a time limit and rules about the number of hits each opponent could land for a winner to be declared.
She’d never been in a fight that had lasted this long.
Every time the Lord of Grimnight’s heavy shadow sword clashed with hers, pain throbbed from her hand to her shoulder, until everything went numb.
Cuts covered her arms and legs, staining her pretty dress red.
The lord aimed for her torso, trying to slice her in half.
She barely blocked the strike. The harsh impact sent her stumbling to the side. She fell to one knee and gasped from the shock of new pain.
The black blade swung toward her neck.
Angelica tried to lift her arm, but it remained limply at her side. She closed her eyes, waiting for the fatal blow.
Instead, she heard a clang of metal against metal, sword against sword.
Had Fyodor stepped in to help her? Had her ‘feminine wiles’ really swayed him that much? She struggled to smile, to show him how much she appreciated the risk he took for her. But when she opened her eyes and lifted her head, another man stood beside her.
Light glimmered along his red hair and the silver sword he’d raised against his own father. Trey’s jaw was clenched in determination, but his eyes were red with sorrow.
The Lord of Grimnight stared at him in shock. Then the shadows fell across his cherubic face, finally making him look like an evil mage. “My own son would stand against me?”
Trey shifted in front of Angelica, making a silent choice to protect her.
“Then you can share their fate.”