Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
T he hard wooden table cut at Neve’s inert limbs.
With her eyes closed, she perceived the drawing room as energy. Words were being spoken, but they drifted past her as if she was in a dream. Vaguely, she discerned the queen’s voice, and Eleksi’s, and the vibrations of a frighteningly large number of other people.
The sorceress straddled the delicate line between concentrating on the Glamour and trying to hear the conversation around her. Her strength had been diminished by the magic she cast in the cellar, and she felt the Glamour in danger of breaking. How much longer must she hold it? Why had the queen told Eleksi to place her on the table?
A person with an unfamiliar essence drew near her. They stood over Neve, directing their attention at her. She felt their scrutiny as clearly as sunshine on her skin on a hot summer’s day.
They drew closer still, and she sensed something else. Although the person was unfamiliar, their essence was in subtle harmony with her own. Being in proximity to her mother evoked a similar feeling.
It was blood recognizing blood.
Neve’s pulse increased. It really was true, then. King Leonid was her father. Her flesh and blood. Until that moment, she hadn’t completely, unequivocally believed it in her bones. Not because she thought Eleksi lied, but because the notion seemed so fantastical.
But why on earth would Leonid be in the room? Didn’t the queen want to hide Neve from him? Perhaps concealment no longer mattered, now that Meliohr believed the sorceress was dead.
Leonid continued standing over her, causing increasing strain on Neve’s Glamour. The more intensely he focused on her, the more she struggled to hold the spell. Even as she strove, she sensed the illusion beginning to slip.
The moment this thought passed through her mind, the Glamour became exponentially more difficult to hold. Desperate to assess the situation, she decided to open her eyes. No one would see her do it as long as the Glamour was in place, but if the spell was in danger of failing, she needed to find out what was happening.
With painstaking care, she lifted her eyelids. The king was peering at her in befuddlement. His aura was blurred and fragmented, signifying intoxication. Either he was drunk or drugged, or suffered from sickness of the mind.
To her alarm, tears spilled down his cheeks as he gazed at her. When he spoke, she heard him clearly. As did, surely, everyone else in the room.
“No! Brigit!” he cried.
Sadness washed over Neve like a cold wave. Brigit was her mother’s name. Was he confused about who lay before him? Neve did look very much like her mother.
He angled his head, staring into her eyes. Could he see past the Glamour? Was she about to be caught?
“What is he doing?” came the queen’s haughty voice. She appeared at his elbow, her face creased with annoyance. “How?—”
Under the combined strain of the king and queen’s scrutiny, the Glamour failed. The spell’s haze vanished, bringing the room into sharp relief for Neve. Guards filled every corner and Eleksi stood several paces behind the queen.
Meliohr scowled with disbelief, then rage. “Guards! Kill her!”
The words summoned a powerful well of self-preservation in Neve. Holding a Glamour was a delicate process, requiring a huge amount of concentration. The time for delicate had passed.
If Neve were to survive, she’d need to use pure power.
Eleksi was midway through withdrawing his golden dagger from his jacket, his deadly silver gaze on the queen, but Neve acted first. With the intention to Stun the queen and guards, she unleashed her panicked energy as forcefully as she could muster.
Red light exploded from her center, sending the biggest Stun spell she’d ever conjured into the room. There was no time to attempt to isolate Eleksi or Leonid and spare them from the blast. A moment too late, Neve realized the force of her magic might’ve killed the king in his weakened state. The spell was stronger than she’d expected.
Before anyone recovered, she leaped from the table. Every guard, the king, the queen, and Eleksi were frozen in place, their faces masks of distress. Only their eyes moved, flitting back and forth while remnants of the Stun spell spiraled from their limbs in wisps of red.
The grandfather clock by the door had stopped, its pendulum suspended on an upswing. Candle flames and the fire in the hearth burned a deep and searing garnet. Neve’s ears rang and she felt strangely winded.
The spell would soon wear off. She had to escape before that happened, because her magic was drained and she wouldn’t be able to conjure again until she’d rested. And she was about to have the entire royal guard in pursuit of her.
She placed her hand on Eleksi’s wrist and siphoned off her own red energy, releasing him from the Stun spell.
At once, he continued drawing his dagger, his eyes trained on the queen. Neve realized he meant to kill Meliohr, who still struggled under the spell, alongside the king.
“No, stop,” hissed Neve, flicking her gaze around the room. “Leave her.”
The strongest guards were already regaining motion in their fingers, and she didn’t dare to linger.
Also, she worried about the consequences of openly committing regicide. Faking Neve’s death was bad enough. But slaying the queen in front of royal guards would cause mayhem far beyond Neve and Eleksi. The act would likely start an all-out war with Morktland. King Reynard would avenge his sister, motivated further by his hatred of sorcery. For the sake of Zermes kingdom, they would have to find another way to defeat Meliohr.
Neve and Eleksi fled the room, slamming the door behind them. Although she was somewhat familiar with the palace, Eleksi knew its layout far better, so she sprinted after him through the corridors. Although conjuring had fatigued her, fresh waves of fear propelled her onward.
As they left the desolated wing where they’d met Meliohr, servants and guards began appearing in the hallways. The servants showed no interest in the fugitives, but the guards gave chase immediately, shoving bystanders out of the way.
Eleksi rounded a corner, Neve right behind him. They flew down the dead-end corridor, a floor-to-ceiling portrait on the far stone wall.
She puffed. “Have we taken a wrong turn? Are we lost?”
“We’re not lost. The painting is enchanted, but hardly anyone knows about it. Keep running. We have to jump through before the guards see.”
He sprinted at the wall, moments from crashing into it. Willing her courage not to fail, Neve followed. No guards had entered the corridor yet, but their shouts rang through the palace.
When she was mere paces from the dead end, she sensed it. The portrait radiated enchantment. Sure enough, when Eleksi ran into it, he disappeared like it was nothing more than the cascading sheet of a waterfall.
Neve jumped after him and found herself in a dark stone tunnel. It branched off in several directions, including staircases up and down. The tunnel was illuminated by candles in brass sconces on the walls.
“You’re not the only one who knows about this place, then,” she said, leaning forward on her knees to catch her breath.
“Aye. The staff use it. From what I can tell, Meliohr doesn’t know about the palace’s secret passageways. Are you alright?” he added.
She spluttered with wry laughter. “Am I alright? I Stunned you. I’m so sorry about that.”
“I’m fine.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It stung, but nothing like your killing curse.”
She balked, guilt replacing her mirth. “You didn’t tell me the killing curse hurt!”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” He glanced at the wall they’d jumped through. “We ought to keep moving, in case they figure out the enchantment.”
Yells and thudding noises came from the other side.
“Where do we go?” she asked, surveying the cluster of tunnels. “Which of these lead out of the palace?”
He started down a set of stairs. “This way. It’s a long trek and not very pleasant, but we should be safe enough as long as we hurry.”
She hastened after him. “Unpleasant is fine.” In the low light, she steadied herself by running her hand along the cold stone wall. “It’s certainly better than being executed by the queen.”
The echoing quiet of the tunnels was a welcome reprieve from the day’s chaos. They walked for some time in silence, Neve lost in her thoughts. Her father had known her mother’s name and he seemed upset. What was the full story? She wished she’d been able to talk to him.
Eleksi broke the silence as they jumped over a narrow, fast-running canal.
“Leonid is in poorer health than I imagined,” he said carefully.
“Yes. I fear greatly for his life now, as well as our own.”
“I believe those fears are valid. I’m sorry I encouraged you to let him fend for himself. We will help him, I promise.”
“But what are we going to do?” The true reality of the situation was descending on Neve. “I cast magic against the king and queen, and you pulled a dagger. We’ll be declared enemies of the Crown. Simply wearing a hood won’t be enough to elude Meliohr and her men now.”
“We can go into hiding until we figure out how to move against her, and we can use my residence in the countryside. But for tonight, we ought to find somewhere in Klatos to lie low. The guards will be combing the streets for us as we speak.”
Neve thought of the king’s tear-filled eyes as he gazed down at her.
“I know where we should go.”