43. Festivities
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Festivities
Flames spat smoke toward the gaping hole in the cavern’s ceiling.
The chamber formed a half-oval, wide enough to hold hundreds.
Waylan played a song on his fiddle. The high-pitched notes reached the outskirts where I sat with Vera, Branwen, and Tabby along a rounded wooden bench.
A perfect place to sit where there was a view toward the dancing quadrille around the flickering flames.
Bluebloods and redbloods mingled and danced with no reservation between any. Wraithlings ran around the chamber or flew in the air with as much joy as their person.
Any near the edges were there by choice.
This, what I viewed, was true harmony. No barriers between anyone because of their blood.
“But do you?” Tabby asked, “Loathe him?”
I squeezed the tankard of mead between both hands, readjusting myself on the wooden bench. When I first arrived, the three of them continued to eye me until finally Tabby asked me what was wrong. My worries, sadness, and all things Cassiel spilled from my lips.
I mulled over her question, staring into the flames of the bonfire.
“I do not know.” I shook my head, eyebrows furrowed.
“As an observer,” Branwen began, tucking her curly hair behind one ear. “I understand your reservations. This may not come best from me—”
“Us,” Vera added with a wry smile. “We understand how uncomfortable it must be for you to be around his past feeders.” Everything unsaid lingered in her words. “But that does mean we have a unique insight into His Highness.”
From their shared glance, I could tell this had been a topic of conversation before. I drew straighter.
“If we may,” Branwen interrupted. She stared at me inquisitively.
“Ladies, simply tell her. That is what friends are for.” Tabby tsked, shaking her head. “I can tell you were all too near the Kingdom with all your niceties.”
She was not incorrect in her statement. At one time, Miriam and I had shared all things with one another. She had not only been like family; she had also been a friend.
Morak knocked a fork against the side of his metal tankard. It let out a shrill ring.
“Hurry! Speak your mind,” Tabby whispered.
“He has never behaved even a fraction of how he behaves with you with anyone else. Not only does he watch you as if he would take a blade for you, he watches you with tenderness. That is something he has never received.” Vera paused, lips pursed as if debating her following words.
“Many of us tried. Ida, especially, attempted to sway his heart.” I was glad to have driven a blade through her.
“We all see how he turns toward you. With every little move you make, he turns, adjusting himself to you. The Warlord is in love,” Tabby added.
Branwen caught my hand. “It is not meant to sway you, simply to offer you an outsider’s perspective. I would not like to see you miserable.”
Morak had begun to speak. Something or other about unity and such. I continued dwelling on their words.
Have I doubted his affection for me?
The struggle to inhale past my tight throat said as much.
“There is hope beyond how we have been existing!” Morak shouted. The ensuing cheer roared through the cavern.
“A hope thanks to you . . . and I suppose His Highness.”
I turned to the voice near my shoulder. “Liadan!” I gasped, throwing my arms around his shoulders. His much, much wider shoulders.
He chuckled, patting my waist. “I’d rather not lose my head, but I suppose I wilnae be so easy to get rid of now,” he murmured, pulling back. He clasped my face and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Thank you.”
My breath caught. His usually blue irises were no longer. Extending from the pupil was blood-red that flared out and collided with blue. He had become the stature of Cassiel.
So Cassiel’s eyes had been close to golden before he Awakened.
A roar ripped through the cavern. Cassiel crashed into one of the wooden tables near the fire. Splintered wood exploded all around, sending anyone nearby running with shrieks.
Cassiel was on his feet to meet in a clash with Jude. They collided like stone on stone with deep thuds punctuating every exchanged blow. Jude matched Cassiel’s diminished strength, and still, Cassiel held his own, dodging and landing blows that forced Jude back.
Centuries had honed Cassiel’s skill. He held the advantage, but the withering would not let it last.
“Stop them!” I screamed. Morak was moving people away from the danger, shuffling them through one of the three passages that led inside. “Liadan!” I whirled.
He seemed to be in a trance watching them, chest rising and falling rapidly. Until I touched his arm and he turned to me.
“I will stop them.” Then he was gone.
Liadan wrenched Jude’s arms back. He turned and snarled, baring fangs.
“Enough!” Morak shouted.
“He is weakened. We should take the opportunity to end him!” Jude’s bellow reached where I stood watching.
Cassiel went frighteningly still. “Try it,” he murmured.
He never knew when to mind his words!
I took one step forward, but Morak’s, “No,” stopped me in place.
“His Highness is needed.”
I slowed my approach. Jude deflated, and Liadan let him go.
“Enough with the cockfight!” Lucinda shouted. She pushed through the crowd blocking the path she had come from. “We are being invaded.”
She had taken a breath when all broke loose.
Swarms of officers flooded the cave. The Guard had arrived.
It turned to madness. Screams echoed, fighting ensued.
Blades clashed against each other. One officer took the arm of a redblood, shoving her to the ground.
He brought his pommel down on her temple.
She lost consciousness. Another woman was dragged over.
It seemed they were collecting any that were redbloods and dispatching any bluebloods.
Liadan was slicing through officers. Jude and Morak fought side by side, pushing back the line of officers trying to get past them.
“Amara!” Cassiel roared.
I found bloodshed around him, but more officers kept coming. One raked his blade across Cassiel’s calf. Cassiel buckled and dropped to one knee, but he swiped out and sliced across the neck of the one behind him.
“Turn!” I screamed in warning. A blade came at Cassiel’s neck. He managed to twist, driving the blade away.
But a different officer jabbed at his chest. A blade drove through his stomach, erupting through his back.
‘Go’.
He hadn’t looked at me.
I numbly turned to find Damien in front of Vera and Branwen. Tabby had been pulled away at some point.
“There you are,” the familiar voice broke through my panic.
I blinked up at the red-headed officer. “Egan?” I choked out.
“Hurry,” he gritted out, hauling me past a bleeding redblood.
“Wait! I have to get Cassiel,” I mumbled. My thoughts were a mess. I jerked and tugged, but Egan kept pulling me.
Not until we were past the entrance did I snap to life. I turned back to Cassiel who fell to his knees, black blood dripping from his lips. Another blade split through his torso.
“Saints, Egan! Set me free!”
Cassiel still remained fighting, and they were skewering him. Egan only shook his head, pulling me even faster. He wound through the path as if he knew it. Dirt and stone blurred past.
Egan swiped his blade out, sliding it into an officer as they rounded a corner. I choked on my shock, but Egan didn’t stop. Since I last saw him, his hair had grown to his shoulders. It flowed behind him. He dragged me through a tunnel that inclined until we emerged outside.
“Egan!” I crouched, ignoring the pinch in my hip.
My weight forced him to slow. He hovered over my face, using two fingers to pinch my chin.
“It is to keep you safe,” he whispered, eyes thin. “All I have ever wanted was to keep you safe.” He leaned closer until his breath touched my lips.
I turned my face away before his mouth touched mine.
“Get away from her.” Lucinda’s voice was low and harsh.
A flash of annoyance crossed his face, and he stood, casually swinging the sword. His posture was too relaxed.
“What?”
“Do not attempt to fool me,” she bit out, rushing toward us, a blade the size of my forearm in hand. Panic drew the air from my chest.
“Lucinda?” I gasped, confused. Egan’s chuckle only served to confuse me more. I held my palms up between them, getting in the way. “This is a friend—”
Egan brushed past me, shoulder smashing into my arm. I staggered, my weaker leg giving out. Lucinda sneered and jabbed her blade at Egan. He easily parried it. His look was mocking, and so different from the face I knew.
I lunged forward and caught Egan’s arm, stopping the blade before it reached Lucinda’s face. With his focus split between us, Lucinda swiped, opening a cut across his arm, and danced out of his reach.
The humor fled from his face.
A roar echoed from the distance. I whipped my head in its direction, seeing Lucinda’s wraithling break through the edge of stalks.
“Run, Amara!” I turned back to Lucinda parrying another swipe from Egan. None of this made sense. “It is Lord—” Egan drove the blade through the middle of her chest.
A roar bellowed, her panther wraithling falling onto the ground mid-sprint, sending dust into the air.
I screamed as Lucinda coughed blood, and it dribbled on her lip.
Egan pulled the blade from her chest, twisting it as he withdrew.
Lucinda jerked and her legs crumpled under her.
I crawled toward her with desperate, rushed movements.
I grabbed her face, turning her head toward me.
“I-I do not understand,” I wheezed.
Lucinda coughed more blood.
“Run. Vaner,” she wheezed.
My shoulders drew up and I slowly turned. Egan was busy swiping the surface of the blade onto his black officer tunic.
“Why?” I cried. Nothing made sense. How could Egan . . . Egan would not have.
I eyed the back of his hair. It shimmered under the moonlight as he shook it out of his face.
“Vaner.” My numb lips struggled to form his name.
Lucinda’s wraithling managed to spring. Vaner rammed his boot into the feline with a quick and skilled movement. He landed another hit, and then another until the panther staggered, shaking its head.
He turned with a sigh. “Stupid girl.” He brought his boot down on her shoulder, sending Lucinda onto her back.
I threw myself at his legs, but I could not budge him.
He whipped his hand out and his palm cracked across my face.
The copper taste of my blood filled my mouth as I landed next to Lucinda.
Vaner swept her blade from the ground and rammed it in the middle of her chest again, this time, leaving it sticking out of her.
Her arm slapped the ground as she stared at me. “You must not die,” she whispered, blood leaking from the corner of her lips. “Run.” The panther writhed in agony with its ears pinned back.
A sob choked in my throat. I had to get away. Sinking my nails into the dirt for purchase, I rolled onto my knee. I managed to bolt forward, but a boot slammed against my back, making me plant face down into the dirt.
Vaner grabbed my hair and my arm, wrenching me up. My throat screamed from the angle and he forced me toward a horse tethered to one of the thicker stalks.
“Stop struggling, girl,” he hissed and shoved me. I slammed against the saddle. His fist swung at my temple, and my vision blurred.
Seeing such hatred on the face of a man I had grown to care for and trust was a different sort of horror. His blue eyes glinted with familiar avarice. It was a look I had never seen Egan’s face contort into.
I stumbled, scrabbling to grab the strap of the saddle. He yanked me, then my feet were off the ground, my body landing across the saddle.
He brought his fist down across the side of my head again. Vomit rose and exploded onto the ground. I gagged, spitting clear liquid mixed with red blood.
He wrenched my arm nearest him behind my back, keeping me pinned.
The horse settled into a gallop.