Chapter 36
CHAPTER 36
N eve paced the windowless room in the upper levels of the parlor. On the wallpaper, an elaborate scene repeated over and over again. A blizzard sending thick flurries of snow over a picturesque mountain village, covering fruit trees and flower gardens.
“Do you suppose the queen suspects Davron and I are alive?” Amelie sat on the velvet-covered bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Or will she assume we perished at sea?”
“After I tried and failed to fake my own death, I daresay she’ll assume nothing.” Neve wrung her hands. “Sorry. Even before I tried to hoodwink her, the queen was determinedly thorough. She went to great lengths to identify me.”
Amelie’s eyes widened. “What did she do?”
“She enlisted the expertise of a sorcerer named Polinth. An enchanted mirror gave my location as Starlight Gardens, then she procured my blood to confirm she had the right person. She met every acolyte in turn, looking for physical similarities to Leonid.”
“A sorcerer helped her? Does she not hate mages, though?”
Neve made a noise in her throat. “When it suits her. Reynard’s the zealot. Meliohr’s just a snake.”
“She might believe you fled Zermes and shan’t return.”
“I have to say, your ability to think on the sunny side is impressive.”
Amelie toyed with the golden band on her ring finger. “If you’d seen your lover return to life, you wouldn’t rule out miracles either.”
Sehild had secreted away the two women in a room on the third floor, in a rear corner of the building. A steady stream of chattering, joyful voices came and went in the hallways, but none approached their door, which Neve locked with a key.
Jarin and Riella were stationed downstairs, looking out for any royal spies or Spider Kings until Davron and Eleksi returned.
Amelie sighed. “Although, perhaps I ought to quell my enthusiasm once in a while. I was so quick to encourage Davron to return to Klatos. I thought it would be lovely for him to see his uncle again.”
Neve sat beside her on the bed and placed a comforting hand on her back. “Gods willing, it will be. But I, for one, am very glad he returned. His rightful place is on the throne, with you beside him.”
“Throne? I shall be pleased if we all survive, never mind anything else.”
“I know. Me too.”
“It’s been wonderful to meet you and Riella and Jarin and Eleksi. I had never met a sorceress, except for Levissina.” Her mouth turned down at the corners. “And I don’t believe that counts.”
“If you’re familiar with Levissina, I’m afraid most mages will be underwhelming in comparison, including me.”
“Did you ever meet her?” asked Amelie, curiosity lighting her liquid brown eyes.
“No, never.”
“I seldom speak about her to Davron, for obvious reasons. But, moments before her death, I saw a side to her that was believed lost. A tender side, almost. It was quite heartbreaking, even though I knew she had done terrible things.”
Neve listened in fascination.
Amelie stared at the wallpaper with a slight frown, reliving a memory. “I like to imagine that her last thoughts were those of love. Her eyes were full of feeling. Feeling, and tears. Before her death, her heart was restored to her.”
“I believe Jarin would appreciate hearing this. He went many long years without any word of his mother.”
Amelie nodded eagerly. “I shall tell him. I didn’t know if it would be appropriate.”
“Painful perhaps, but appropriate. Where certain things are concerned, I believe it’s better to know.”
As those words left her mouth, Neve realized with sudden, perfect clarity that she did wish to meet her father. She wanted it dearly. The little girl who used to sit at her bedroom window for hours and gaze at the stars, trying to divine her father’s face in their twinkles, deserved to meet him.
“I wish I could do magic,” said Amelie, smiling dreamily. “I ought not to complain, though. I’m very fortunate to have the silver rose. It’s saved my life more than once.”
“Is it pure silver?” asked Neve, an idea beginning to form.
“I believe so.”
Amelie took the curio from within her cloak and handed it to Neve. The rose was intricately hewn—delicate and strong. And, indeed, made of pure silver. The sorceress felt its powerful hum.
“I can try to enchant it, if you like? To repel attacks whenever you’re in contact with it. Like an invisible shield.” She tapped her own sword, resting on her back. “I’ve enchanted mine and now it returns to me always.”
Amelie’s face lit up. “Could you? That would be wonderful.”
“I’d be happy to.”
She was, too. There was something about Amelie that made Neve want to help her. The Velandian’s emanations were unusually benevolent and sweet, nor did she seem aware of that fact. She would make a wonderful queen.
The silver rose warmed beneath Neve’s touch as she concentrated on imparting a defensive spell onto the metal. In her mind’s eye, she conjured the Velandian’s face, ensuring the protection would fall to her.
When she finished, she returned the rose to Amelie.
“Oh! I can feel it. A surge running from the rose into my hand.”
Neve paused, then turned her head toward the door. “Have I gone deaf, or is it suddenly very quiet out there?”
“No, it is.”
Neve walked to the door, but heard only the occasional creak of the old roof in the evening winds. Night was falling. Eleksi and Davron would be due back any minute.
With painstaking slowness, she reached for the doorknob.
A sudden banging in the hallway made her jump and withdraw her hand, as if burned. There was another crash, then the stomping of boots.
“Try every door!” came a brusque command. “Be thorough!”
The parlor was being searched. Royal guards, judging by the racket. Assassins didn’t go around thumping on doors and stomping their boots.
“Neve!” came another hostile and unfamiliar man’s shout.
Her chest hollowed in despair. This was definitely no routine search. How had they known where to find her?
An awful thought came to her. Had Eleksi and Davron been captured and tortured for information? And what happened to Riella and Jarin? Were they still alive?
Another man joined in. “We know you’re up here! If you come out now, we won’t slit the throat of your pretty red-haired friend!”
Neve swore under her breath. Sehild was being held hostage. More boots clamored up the stairs and Neve felt like she was drowning. They were badly outnumbered.
She whirled around to face Amelie. “Stay there,” she hissed.
Amelie shook her head fiercely, brandishing her silver rose with a determined jut to her chin. Neve shook her head just as frantically, waving her hands in frustration. If Riella and Jarin were overpowered by these men, Neve and Amelie had no hope of escape.
Well, Neve didn’t anyway. But Amelie still might. Royal guards were unlikely to know the Velandian by sight. The building was full of beautiful young women—she could be anyone. If she wasn’t linked to Neve, she might be able to elude capture.
From the door, she mouthed at Amelie. “Hide!”
Amelie looked around, bewildered, and threw her hands up.
“Where?” she mimed.
She had a point. There really wasn’t anywhere. The bed base was solid, and there were no cupboards—only a gilded console and a spindly set of drawers.
Making up her mind, Neve unlocked the door, slipped through, and closed it behind her before Amelie could protest. She’d intended on locking Amelie in, but a royal guard immediately spotted her, forcing her to abandon the key in the lock.
“Got her!” yelled the uniformed guard over his shoulder while taking careful steps toward her.
She seethed with annoyance. His caution meant that he knew she was a sorceress.
“We have your friends,” he repeated. “If you hurt us, we’ll hurt them.”
“I won’t hurt you,” she replied, starting forward, which made him jump back. “Please, don’t hurt my friends.” She took care to be nonspecific, not knowing who’d been captured. “I’ll go downstairs with you.”
“Lads, hurry up!” he shouted, louder.
Three of his colleagues barreled around the corner, emboldening the first.
“Why the hurry to go downstairs?” he asked, cocking his head as his mates flanked him.
“You’re here to kill me, are you not?” she replied, crossing her arms and willing her voice to remain steady. She had to draw them away from Amelie. “Won’t you permit me to say goodbye to my friends, at least?”
He narrowed his eyes, peering past her into the shadows. “Come to me slowly, then, girl.”
More guards arrived at his back, crowding the tiny space.
“Grab her!” he barked at the others. “Check the room.”
Neve faltered. Should she conjure? Sehild had been captured, and possibly the others. If she cast magic, the guards could punish her by killing her friends.
Several of them charged past her, opening the door and bursting inside. Others restrained her, tying her wrists with twine behind her back as she yelped in pain.
Her bound hands knocked uselessly against her sheathed sword. She wished she’d drawn the weapon and used magic, consequences be damned. Too late, she understood there was something far worse than giving oneself over to power.
Having none.
A guard glanced into the room at Amelie.
“Looks like one of the harlots,” he said dismissively. “The sorceress must’ve commandeered her room.”
Neve silently willed Amelie to go along with his assumption.
“What if she’s a sorceress?” asked another, scratching his head. “The boy said she was traveling with someone, but couldn’t say who. Could be this lass. Leaving her ain’t worth the risk, if ye ask me. Let’s bring her. Plenty of room in the palace dungeons.”
They dragged Neve backward down the hall while she struggled. Amelie cried out as several guards entered the room to apprehend her. There was a crashing sound and one of the men bellowed.
“Aye, this one’s a mage too, alright!”
Neve moaned. The defensive spell she’d cast on the rose obviously worked. It’d worked so well the guards were convinced Amelie was a sorceress.
A moment later, the Velandian was hauled from the room, red-faced and kicking.
“You’re coming for a little trip to the dungeons with your friend,” hooted one of the guards as he wrestled with her. “Nice and cozy.”
As Neve was pulled around a corner, she lost sight of Amelie. It was well past time to use magic. Holding back had gotten Neve nowhere, except headed for the palace dungeons.
But then her determination collapsed when she caught sight of the black-robed man standing at the top of the stairs.
He tipped back his hood, his freckly face taut with guilt.
“Caryn,” she said in disbelief.
Her beleaguered mind struggled to comprehend.
“I’m sorry, Neve,” he said, his hands clasped together and his voice pleading. He didn’t quite meet her eye. “They took my brother. I had no choice but to comply. They came for me when I was home for the Harvest Festival.”
Betrayal flooded Neve’s system like fast-flowing lava. Caryn had led the royal guards to her using her energetic signature.
She allowed the fury to fill her until she was blind with a potent black and red mist, knowing that, this time, she wouldn’t hesitate to fully unleash her power.
Something very hard and heavy collided with the back of her head, and the whole world disappeared.