Chapter 43
Attachment is the never bane of one’s existence. It is that which beckons for a homecoming.
My life flashes before me in splintered shards as we sprint down the halls of Juris. The east wing matches the rest of its gilded halls. The trade of humans has certainly been a great profit to Duresden. The history of this kingdom was always one of squalor, no wonder Rolan was so easily corrupted.
“His father, the old king,” I begin. “Dead? At his hands?” I ask, remembering the funeral we never attended.
“Yes, a power grab. It happens in monarchies.”
“It’s connected. His father, me, all of it,” I wheeze, trying to avoid the whiplash of images playing through my mind.
Dots begin connecting just as quickly as dead ends are reached.
We turn a corner and enter a stairwell that has been otherwise abandoned. The entire castle has been easily accessible, nearly empty. There are no guards here and dread fills me. What else happened while we were here?
Sawyer vanishes and appears at the bottom steps, falling into a wall as his body tries to heal. I sprint down and he turns left, opening a wooden door.
“Where are we—” I pause my sentence, taking in the hundreds of short, metal cages laid out in this large room.
All empty save for the two in the corner. He rushes over to them, and pauses, looking to me.
“Cess metal,” he nods. I understand and place my hands on the bars, willing my power to heat them slightly.
The metal, imbued correctly, responds immediately to me.
The bars bend large enough for the young human to crawl out.
He looks to be no older than sixteen. I make quick work of the second, a slightly older boy jumping through. Fear fills the air.
“Can you two get out of here?” Sawyer questions. The boys cower into each other, brothers, and nod quickly.
“Go, through those doors.” He points to one at the other end. “Take a sharp left and run like hell. Once you make it to the coast, I hope you know where you’re going.”
They both nod again, understanding. The younger one clasps his hands and bows in thanks before they take off down the aisle. My soul prays they make it out of here.
We exit back through the doors and turn right, continuing out of a tunnel leading to the outer grounds. There’s no gate at the end and the ground gives way to a sea cove.
More memories flush back and I pause next to a plant, vomiting the muddy contents of my stomach, which was little considering my captivity.
In a snap, I clean the mess up and fertilize the plant before picking up the pace.
We are afoot because I don’t trust myself to portal yet.
My power may be back, but some things are not easily found.
Wheel tracks, large enough for a royal carriage, pave a path through the seaside woods.
We’re too late.
“No,” I say, still catching my breath.
“We’re not far behind, hold onto me,” Sawyer says, pulling my body to his before we vanish.
We land in a clearing, Duresden’s castle spires in the distance. We pause, listening for any sounds of a carriage. If Sawyer knows the right route, we can intercept them and put an end to this.
“We— Do we plan to kill him?” I ask, scanning the road to our left.
“Without hesitation,” he replies gruffly, scanning the trees with a predatory stance. I keep my eye on him.
“You would want that?”
“Believe what you want right now, Elivienne, but I promise you I hold no allegiance to Duresden.”
I go to respond but he holds a hand up. “Later,” he adds, reading the questions on my face. I nod again and we continue waiting. Then, my stomach lurches again as I remember what we planned to do. All of our plans. So much was ripped away.
I’m awake.
The carriage appears faster than lightning, careening around a corner, narrowly missing a large cedar tree as it tilts on two wheels before righting itself. The thing is blinding in the sunlight as it makes its way through the dense foliage.
Before it can pass us, I cast two commands of power.
One to cut the reins of the horses and the second to command the wind and blast the carriage into the air.
The entire thing flips and rolls three times onto its roof.
Sawyer appears next to it upon landing, ripping the golden doors off with force.
The driver launches inside and lands on his feet, pulling a sword out and charging me.
I focus on the blade and melt it. Cess metal. The driver’s hand coats in liquid metal as he screams, falling to the forest floor in agony. “You bitch!”
I melt the metal up his arm and across his cheek, then down his throat. His muffled screams block out immediately.
In the background the prince reaches in the carriage and pulls out a man.
Not Rolan.
“It’s not him!” he bellows, snapping the neck of the guard who sloppily threw on a disguise. The fake crown rolls to a stop next to my foot. The guard in front of me passes out from the pain. Of course he would not flee by carriage, the bastard relishes in his abilities of the darkness.
“We will find him,” I say, picking up the crown, the metal bending under my strength.
Sawyer kicks the carriage and it lands in a muddy pit.
An ominous sound fills the space and the sky darkens overhead. A flock of birds fly past us towards the coast. Thousands of black hawks soar above us, squawking and colliding as if fleeing.
“They’re all coming from the north,” I survey the horde casting a dark shadow on the clearing.
Sawyer and I direct our gazes to each other.
“They’re coming from Lux.”