40. Chapter 34
Chapter 3 4
Lillith
B rumble nuzzles against my side, his warmth comforting as we sit curled up in the library of my hidden mountain castle. My fingers idly stroke his leathery ears while my gaze remains fixed on the flickering flames in the fireplace. Their soothing dance does little to calm the storm raging within me.
My heart feels shattered, torn the moment I left Asher in his bedchamber. I had to leave him, yet each step felt like walking on shards of glass.
I console myself that at least he will live. The spell's magic would’ve continued to knit his body back together in my absence. Mrs. Umbernuckle would ensure that the healing would continue if anything went wrong. He will return safely behind palace walls and, in time, forget this strange encounter with an infamous villainess. My reputation will keep him from seeking me out again. He will be safe .
But such hollow reassurances bring me no peace. I yearn to see his smile once more, hear him call me by name in that tender tone that pierces my tattered soul. No one ever looked upon me as he had. Usually, it was as if I would destroy them and everything they cared for. But not Asher. I dared to reveal my true self to him, and he met me not with disgust but wonder.
Now, I sit alone but for Brumble, my only friend in these isolated walls of stone and magic. My existence had returned to how it was before—roaming empty halls, talking only to fire and books—yet now, it feels so much colder. I tasted sunlight's warmth upon my skin, but that has been snuffed out.
Brumble nestles closer against me, his wide eyes brimming with concern. Asher is the only one who knows the full truth of who I am beneath the fearsome legend. Without him, I will again bear my secrets alone. That dark thought hollows me like wind whistling through a cavern.
Restless energy tingles through my veins. I need to escape these stifling walls, if only briefly, to walk beneath open skies and fill my lungs with crisp night air untainted by dust and sorrow.
"Come, Brumble," I say, rising to my feet. "Let’s stretch our legs."
The little creature's eyes light up eagerly, and he grasps my outstretched hand. I weave the spell to transform our appearance, his large bat-like ears becoming small and rounded, rugged green skin smoothed to a rosy complexion. My wild dark tresses are wrapped neatly beneath a modest bonnet, the plain cloak concealing my elegant black gown. We seem peasant women now, harmless and unremarkable.
Another flick of magic whisks us from the hidden castle. We emerge atop a secluded mountain pass overlooking a humble village in the valley below. Its windows glow warm with hearth fires, smoke twining lazily up into the night sky.
I inhale deeply, conjuring an image of Asher safe in his own halls. Perhaps he, too, now gazes out at this same moon, its light bathing us both in a gentle veil. Foolish fancy but it eases the ache of our parting nonetheless.
"Come along," I murmur to Brumble, picking my way carefully down the steep winding trail.
He follows dutifully, eyes round with curiosity about these dwellings of men. I also feel strangely drawn to walk among them, if only as a ghost, to pretend, just for a moment, that I belong beneath the same sky.
We pause at the village outskirts, watching peasants laugh and chat on their way home or to the tavern. None give us more than a passing glance. After all, we’re just two ladies out for an evening stroll, bracing against the night 's chill.
My steps slow as we pass the village message board in the square. Normally, I completely ignore it, but tonight, my gaze catches on a vivid poster pinned front and center.
A portrait of a handsome, familiar visage stares out at me. Prince Asher. My breath stalls at the sight of his rakish grin. How I miss him already, with a longing that startles me.
Then, my eyes drop to the words below the portrait, and dread seizes my heart with icy claws.
PRINCE ASHER, CHAMPION OF THE REALM, CONDEMNED TO DEATH FOR TREASONOUS CRIMES
No. It can't be, but the poster spells out in bold lettering the date set for Asher's execution by beheading.
Today.
My pulse roars in my ears. How could he go from lauded prince and hero of the kingdom to condemned traitor?
I read on in disbelief as the charges are listed—harboring villains, disregard of duty, failure to carry out righteous executions.
Sudden understanding pierces me cruelly. He knows exactly who the villains are working in his home. He put them there to protect them and spread the rumor of their deaths. He really is a hero and not just for the supposed good guys.
Around me, villagers studying the poster cluck their tongues and shake their heads .
"Shameful business, that."
"Thought him a hero, but he's just another coward unwilling to get blood on 'is hands."
"Good riddance. Any man who coddles monsters deserves the axe, prince or not."
Their callous words ignite sparks of fury within me, even as shame floods my veins. I misjudged him and left him to this doom because I feared others would go after him to get to me. I thought I spared him further pain, but instead, I abandoned him to the wolves.
I want to tear the vile poster down and set this entire rotten village ablaze, but I cannot reveal myself now when Asher needs me most.
My turbulent thoughts churn as Brumble leans against my leg.
A gnarled hand squeezes my shoulder, jolting me from despair's claws. "A tragedy indeed, eh?" rasps a familiar voice.
I turn to find Mrs. Umbernuckle regarding me keenly beneath her hood, eyes swimming with sympathy and concern.
Before I can reply, she takes my arm gently. "Walk with me. We have much to discuss, you and I."
Her kind tone leaves no room for refusal.
As we amble from the square, she peers at me sidelong like a mother seeking truth from a daughter. "No need for tricks now, girl. I know who you are, Lillith. "
I start. "How?"
She chuckles lightly. "The prince was asking for you when he woke up. I had my suspicions, but I admit you kept your secret well. That’s not why I’m here, though. You are going to get him out, right?"
My heart clenches as I imagine his grief.
Mrs. Umbernuckle eyes me deeply. "He’s been asking for you. I’ve never seen him care for another in the way he does you. While he’s forbidden any of the villains working under him from saving him, you are not part of that command."
I hang my head, tears threatening to fall. "I thought to spare further pain. Instead, I doomed him by leaving."
Her palm squeezes mine fondly. "Then make things right! You’re the most powerful villain in three kingdoms. Act like it."
Her earnest eyes renew my weary soul's flame. I will not abandon him again to face the executioner alone.
A smile spreads across my face. “That’s the plan.”
With that, I sweep Brumble into my arms and disappear in a whirl of magic. Brumble pats my arm anxiously, his eyes pools of concern as we reappear back in my home, his concealment gone.
"I need for you to stay here," I murmur, caressing his wrinkled head. "I can’t let him die, and I don’t want you to get caught up in the fight. "
Pacing restlessly before the fire, I rack my mind for anything that can save Asher. A daring rescue would be suicide with the palace doubtless on high alert, but perhaps stealth and cunning can succeed where brute force is doomed to fail.
My eyes land on the towering bookshelves lining the library walls. Yes, there lies the solution. Within these pages dwell ancient magics long forgotten to mortal minds. While everyone has magic, some things require particular movements or focus to work correctly. I need only refresh my memory.
Frantically, I begin pulling down heavy leather tomes, sending up plumes of dust. I require something that will immobilize most of the people there. While I have more power at my fingertips than most people could dream of, I can still be overpowered by sheer numbers, and in the king’s castle I will undoubtedly be outnumbered. If I don’t do it exactly right, this spell won’t hold as many people as I need, only those nearest me.
My mind wanders to Asher for a moment. How is he holding up? He can’t be fully healed yet, and I doubt his health is at the top of his father's list since he condemned his son to death. I will not fail my prince again.
Brumble brings me text after ancient text as I seek just the right enchantments. I am so absorbed I nearly miss his small hand tugging at my sleeve until he does so more insistently .
"What is it?" I ask gently.
He points to a faded page in a book left open on a table. Leaning closer, I see it describes magics that can temporarily alter one's appearance only for those who you wish. This could let me do this without being recognized by anyone other than the prince.
"Brumble, you clever thing!" I cry, sweeping him up into an embrace.
The little fellow grins, nuzzling against me happily that he can help.
I set Brumble down gently then flip back through the book, committing the spell to memory. This magic is too powerful for a sustained spell, but it should serve well enough for a mission that I intend to take only a few minutes.
I kneel so my eyes are level with Brumble's own orb-like gaze. "I must go before it’s too late," I explain, "but I promise we'll be together again soon, my friend."
He mewls softly in understanding then waves his little hand encouragingly. My heart swells with gratitude, and I pull him close, blinking back tears. Then, I steel myself and repeat the spell from memory. My raven hair turns to a fiery red, my skin ages and I feel myself stretch a bit.
With a final pat on Brumble's head, I whisper the teleportation spell and brace myself as magic tugs me across the void. The soaring castle library is replaced in a blink by a bustling crowd that nearly knocks me over. Steadying myself, I stare around in wonder at the colorful chaos of the packed market square. My isolated tower feels a world away from this sunlit revelry.
For a moment, I stand frozen, overwhelmed by the sights and noises. Then, a passing crier's bellow about Prince Asher's execution shatters my paralysis.
Lifting my chin, I square my shoulders and make my way forward.
Joining the somber queue, I file into the great hall behind a trickle of peasants being granted entry to witness the trial. My nerves thrum beneath my illusion spell as we are directed to the public gallery overlooking the expansive chamber. I have to get closer to Asher but dare not break from the passive herd yet.
The cavernous space echoes with low murmurs, the air thick with tension and incense. My gaze fixes on the far end upon a raised dais where two ornate thrones stand. The king has not yet arrived, but soon, he will sit there in judgment over his son. The thought sparks flames within my chest.
Beneath the shadowed dais is a simple wooden platform draped in black. A bloodstained stump awaits, executioner's blade glinting cruelly beside it. Bile rises in my throat at such a cold, indifferent end prepared for my dear Asher. How can these people possibly claim to be good when this is the type of thing they find acceptable?
A shoulder bumps into me, and I jump .
"I thought I would find you here."
To my surprise, Silviana stands beside me, the hood of her cloak hiding most of her face.
"Oh?" I murmur.
“I knew you wouldn’t let him die. I saw the way you two looked at each other in the arena.”
I don’t dare look at her directly. Instead, I keep an eye on the rest of the crowd and lower my voice. How could she recognize me? My first instinct is to tell her to leave, but if she can see me as myself a small part of me must want her by my side. To have the help I so rarely ask for. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“No worries. I understand why. I’m here now, though, so what’s the plan? You’re not doing this alone.”
“Freeze everyone that I can and rampage.”
Silviana snorts. “You’re serious? That’s the plan?”
“Did I mention the word everyone? I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will be until they start to break free of the spell. I will be your backup and try to take care of people as they break free so you can get your prince out of here. Deal?”
“Deal.”
A fanfare of horns announces the king's arrival, the grave notes trumpeted by heralds on the balcony above. The king sweeps into the hall, ermine-lined robes trailing behind him. The crowd bows low, myself reluctantly with them. I peek through my lashes as he takes his seat upon the throne. His stony gaze holds no hint of paternal warmth for the accused traitor. His son he might be, yet today, he will die the same.
The horns sound again, and a side door is flung open. Flanked by armored guards, Asher is led stumbling into the chamber. I suck in a sharp breath at the sight of him—face pale and drawn, rakish stubble covering his strong jaw. He appears even thinner than expected, the toll of weeks imprisoned clear, but strength still radiates from him as he holds his head high, defiance flashing in his sea-foam eyes. The shackles at his wrists cannot contain his indomitable spirit.
He is forced to kneel before the dais, an attendant reading out a lengthy list of his alleged crimes as Asher gazes calmly up at his sire. I yearn to run to him then, crush him close, and spirit him away from this horrific farce, but I hold myself taut, watching... waiting.
"Prince Asher, you have been found guilty of treason and sentenced to die this day," the king pronounces once the charges conclude. His voice echoes coldly off the stones. "Do you deny these crimes or repent your actions against the crown?"
A tense hush falls over the hall.
Asher lifts his battered but unbowed head and addresses his father and king. "I deny nothing and repent even less," he declares firmly. "I accept the price for my choices but will never recant my effort to show mercy over malice. There are yet glimmers of light if we but strive to find them."
Shaken murmurs greet this bold response, but his father’s face only hardens to flint. With a curt nod, he gestures the executioner forward.
My pulse roars as the hulking man strides up to the platform, double-bladed axe glinting ominously. This cannot come to pass!
I begin weaving magic swiftly between my fingers but keep it muted for now. A few moments more...
Asher is forced down, his neck positioned over the scarred stump. The entire hall holds its breath. The executioner raises his axe high, his muscles bulging.
Now!
I whisper a word and unleash my spell. Silvery light ripples out in a wave from my hands raised high. Time slows as my magic takes hold, the executioner's axe suspended mid-swing.
I rush onto the dais amidst the frozen forms of the king, prince, and executioner. All attempts at hiding are gone. I am only Lillith now.
My hands tremble in combined relief and fury as I gently lift Asher's head from that dreadful block. His sea-glass eyes blink up at me in wonder. He’s unaffected by my spell.
"Lillith?" he rasps out. "You came for me? "
"Of course I did. Now hush," I murmur, smoothing back his hair with quaking fingers. "Let's get you free of this place."
With a wave of my hand, I sever his chains, then help him rise on unsteady feet. He leans heavily against me, still shaken.
"I thought you were gone," he says hoarsely. "You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe."
I shake my head, shame and joy warring within me. "Anyone who stands in my way isn't safe."
As I turn to usher Asher from the dais, warning prickles dance across my skin. My spell has affected most of the hall's occupants, but something still stirs. I glance around warily just as yelling erupts from the gallery.
"Watch out!" I yell as Sylviana’s beasts begin to materialize around me.
Gorgons, hippogriffs, and chimera materialize, fixing the guards in place with their hypnotic gazes. I stand calmly amid the monsters, silvery wings extending from my back.
A handful of royal guards are fighting against the paralyzing magic, their movements slowed as if underwater, but they’re gradually regaining control. One has drawn his sword and is struggling toward the dais in jerky steps. More will surely follow.
Cursing under my breath, I swiftly draw Asher behind me. "Stay close," I warn .
We retreat until our backs hit the cold stone wall. The freed guard lumbers ever nearer, his blade finally swinging freely. He barks something unintelligible, spit flying from his lips.
I raise my hands, magic sparking at my fingertips, but I hesitate to strike. Killing the king's men will make us irredeemable outlaws. Perhaps I can instead immobilize him...
My moment of indecision costs me. With surprising speed, the guard surges forward and swings his sword at my head. I throw up a hasty shield, the blade rebounding off it with a flash of light. The force of the blow sends me staggering back into Asher.
From the corner of my eye, I see more guards breaking free, lumbering onto the dais with weapons drawn. We are out of time.
Silviana gracefully descends onto the dais, pointing at the men. Her beasts rush forward with supernatural speed, knocking the guards aside with claws and wings. Their screams echo through the chamber.
With a growled curse, I unleash a bolt of purple energy at the attacking guard. It strikes him square in the chest, flinging him halfway across the hall where he crumples, unmoving. Dark magic but needs must.
I turn swiftly, ready to attack the other guards, but they hesitate now, staring wide-eyed at their fallen comrade. Their courage is fleeting without the king to command them.
"Stand down if you wish to see tomorrow!" I warn, magic flaring.
To my surprise and relief, they lower their weapons, cowed by my display of power.
I seize the advantage and grab Asher's wrist, pulling him toward the steps. We have to flee this cursed place before the spell breaks entirely.
But our path is suddenly blocked by an imposing figure. The king himself, face mottled with rage, fights against my magic. Of course, one of true royal blood would resist longer than his guards. His hand creeps toward the jeweled pommel of his sword, inch by strained inch.
Cold purpose floods my veins. I cannot allow him to raise that blade against us.
Asher's breath catches as he realizes my intent. "No, Lillith!" he cries, seizing my wrist. "He is still my father!"
I meet his beseeching eyes steadily. "He means to kill us both. He gave you no choice. I will not let him harm you again."
With that, I tear my hand from Asher's grasp and stride to meet his sire. The king's visage contorts, paralyzed muscles straining as he battles my spell. His eyes convey the depth of his hatred and fury .
Halting before him, I raise my palm, magic swirling. "For the sake of the son you betrayed, I will make this quick."
Dark lightning erupts from my hand, engulfing the king. There is a terrible roar... then silence. What remains of him collapses boneless to the floor, smoke rising from his charred finery. The tyrant who condemned his own blood is no more.
I stand over the corpse, breathing hard. A part of me relishes having felled the monster who brought such suffering to Asher and countless others, but a larger part grieves that it has come to such bloody vengeance.
A strangled gasp breaks my dark reverie. The executioner! In the fray, I nearly forgot about him.
I whirl to find the brawny man mobile once more, axe raised high to cleave me in two.
Desperately, I throw up my hands. A lethal spell will take too long.
But the expected bite of the blade never comes. Instead, the executioner's bearded face registers only shock before he topples stiffly to the side like a felled oak.
My mouth falls open as I see the jeweled hilt of King Adinar's sword jutting from the man's chest.
I turn to see Asher standing unsteadily behind the corpse, his expression tormented. He took the sword from his father's body before the executioner could strike.
"Asher," I begin softly, heart wrenching at his anguish, but further words flee as the spell breaks entirely in a violent rush.
Chaos erupts in the hall. Guards surge toward us as the crowd screams, only now grasping what has transpired. We are out of time.
I run to Asher, pulling him close. Before the guards can reach us, I summon my power and picture my sanctuary, wrapping us in magic.
The great hall blurs into streaming shadows and light, reforming swiftly into blessedly familiar surroundings. My library materializes around us, and I sink to my knees on the carpet, weak from exertion and relief.
We have made it. We are home.
I glance up to share the triumphant realization with Asher, but my elation dims at the shell-shocked grief haunting his eyes.
Of course. I callously slew his father before him, no matter how deserved. What demons must now torment his noble heart? I acted in haste, failing to foresee the damage left in my wake.
Rising on still-unsteady feet, I go to Asher, gently taking his hands in mine. His gaze remains distant, lost in sorrow and memories.
“I’m sorry. ”
A single tear rolls down his cheek. “I know it’s for the best. Things couldn’t change if he wasn’t gone, but he was still my father.”
I hold him close, understanding exactly how he feels. While my own parents have never shown me parental love, I, too, would feel their loss. I wish I could take away his pain for now, but I feel powerless, an unusual feeling for me. All I can do is be here for the person I love, never abandon him again, and wait and see what our future holds together.