When Prince Vito’s feet hit the ground, Paxton stood and rushed forward. The prince spun, as if suddenly sensing Paxton’s presence, and he backed against the wall, brandishing a glinting dagger that could imbed itself in Paxton’s chest with a flick of the man’s wrist.
Vito snarled. “You!”
“Aye. Me.”
Apparently feeling more confident, the prince pushed away from the wall and grinned. “Why not come a little closer and we can battle like true Lashed men?”
Paxton pulled the bowstring taut. “I’m a hunter of beasts. I do not use my magic to kill for sport.”
“How many men have you killed?” Prince Vito asked.
“You will be my first.”
The prince chuckled. “Silly commoner. I am the prince of Kalor. This is not how I will die.”
Paxton knew there was no way this man would give him information about Prince Donubhan. Their only hope was to kill him and capture his lackeys for information.
Sounds of battle were close. Paxton wanted to look over his shoulder, but didn’t dare take his eyes off Prince Vito. He weighed his chances; the prince had excellent reflexes. If he shot his arrow, Vito’d likely throw his dagger at the same time. But to have the man dead would be worth his own life.
“You are a waste of Lashed blood, peasant. I should keep you alive, cage you in my room, and let you have the pleasure of watching me with your queen—”
Paxton shot, diving to the side as prince Vito threw his weapon. Both men shouted in pain. The dagger had sliced Paxton’s shoulder, while his arrow planted firmly in the prince’s thigh. Vito was now weaponless. Paxton snagged another arrow and nocked it. The prince was breathing raggedly, leaning back against the cottage wall. He let out a groaning snarl.
“You will pay for that! I will shoot arrows at you in your cage. Then heal you when you’re about to die, and do it all over again. I will bring you to the brink of death over and over until you are begging to die.”
“Enjoy your last morbid dreams. You’re nothing but an imposter.”
Vito gritted his teeth, shaking. “I. Am. The most. Powerful. Man. Alive!”
Prince Vito lunged for Paxton, who let loose his arrow. It lodged straight in Vito’s throat as the prince’s deadly fingers grazed the front of Paxton’s tunic. He jumped away.
Paxton’s heart gave a great jolt as he watched Vito fall to his knees at his feet, feeling the protruding arrow with trembling hands and bulging eyes. Pax stepped back farther. It was the first time he’d ever watched a creature suffer without putting it out of its misery, but he didn’t dare touch him. Paxton watched Prince Vito struggle and thrash on the ground until the man’s spirit finally fled, alone, behind a cottage, with no glory. And though it gave Paxton no joy, it did provide him a moment of peace. Vito was no longer the most powerful man alive.
The carriage rumbled along at an uphill slant. A bellow of agony issued from Harrison in the front, and the cart zagged from side to side. Had he been shot?
“Hold on tight!” Aerity screamed to her sister and cousin. But the cart came to an abrupt stop without tipping over.
“Harrison!” Wyneth fumbled for the door over Vixie’s lap.
“Wyn, wait—” Aerity grabbed her cousin’s skirts, but Wyneth rushed downward out of her grasp and into the night.
“Stay here,” Mrs. Rathbrook said. “He could be hurt. I will try to heal him.”
“Be careful,” Aerity begged. Mrs. Rathbrook climbed down, out of sight. Aerity shared a worried look of silence with Vixie. Several minutes passed, and Aerity felt a foreboding sense of wrongness. She reached for the door handle just as a thwump sounded. Something had hit the side of the carriage, and flames suddenly tore upward along the fabric lining. The sizzle and whoosh were deafening. Vixie screamed, and Aerity grabbed her, pushing her toward the door. They went tumbling out together, the cart engulfed in flames. The horse took off running. Aerity saw now that the driver’s seat was empty.
Two soldiers lay dead with no sign of injury and Aerity realized Mrs. Rathbrook must have killed them with magic.
“Aerity!” Wyneth ran to them, staring at the flaming cart as the horse ran. “Are you both all right?”
“Aye. Where’s Harrison?”
Wyneth pointed. At the bottom of the darkened hill Mrs. Rathbrook was leaning over him, her hands on his side. “He was hit with an arrow.”
At the sounds of movement they turned their eyes up to see troops in bright Kalorian clothing cresting a hill behind them, coming from the town center.
“Run!” Aerity shouted. Harrison and Mrs. Rathbrook were pushing gingerly to their feet when the girls made it to them. With any luck, the Kalorians would focus on the cottages, and Aerity and the others could be to the copse of trees at the top of this hill before the enemy troops noticed them. From there, they could make it down the other side and to the lake on foot. The five of them ran.
“Where is Furball?” Wyneth asked, peering back over her shoulders. And then, “Watch out!”
An arrow flew directly between her and Vixie, lodging in the dead grass. Aerity turned to see a single soldier who had spotted them.
“Keep going!” Harrison ordered them as he unsheathed his sword and charged down at a sprint toward the Kalorian who was nocking another an arrow.
“No!” Wyneth screamed.
Oh, seas. Aerity couldn’t watch; Harrison wasn’t going to get to him in time. From the corner of her eye she saw Vixie’s bow go up. With a twang, the Kalorian soldier was stumbling backward. Harrison skidded to a stop and looked back, confused.
Vixie had frozen to the spot, her bow falling to her side.
“Did I kill him?” she croaked. “I . . . I did good, right?”
“You did brilliantly,” Wyneth assured her in a shaking voice. “He would have shot Harrison.” Vixie stared at the twitching body and began to tremble. Harrison sheathed his sword and took her by the shoulder.
“Well done, princess. You’ve done nothing wrong. I owe you my life.”
Vixie covered her mouth.
Sounds of fighting were getting louder. In the moonlight and flickering fires, Aerity spotted stout gray horses dashing up the path and between houses with broad riders shouting a coldland war chant. Ascomannians were here! And beyond the far hill from the direction of the town square rose great shouts as Lochlan commoners ran up and over, pouring down the hill toward the Kalorians. Vixie gave a peal of laughter. A deep growl split the night as Furball rose up on his hind legs beside Lief on horseback, ready to fight.
“Furball!” Wyneth yelled. The beast, having amazing hearing, cocked his head in their direction and appeared torn between fighting and going to be with his mistress.
A stream of Kalorians poured forth from behind the houses, coming around to meet the Lochlans and Ascomannians head on. And they were directly in the path.
Harrison pointed up the hill and shouted, “Go! He’ll be fine!”
“Harrison!” Wyneth called, but he shook his head regretfully. He was staying to fight too.
Wyneth reluctantly turned with moistened eyes, and the four of them ran up the hill, grasping their skirts.
When they got to the copse of trees at the top of the hill, they stopped to catch their breath in the canopy of darkness.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Rathbrook?” Aerity asked. The woman was bent, hands on her knees, taking in ragged mouthfuls of air.
“Aye . . . dear . . . don’t worry about me. Leave me . . . if you must.”
Before Aerity could respond, a shadow stepped out from behind a tree.
“Still a slave to the monarch, Lashed One? Pity.”
Aerity’s skin prickled with heat at that voice. Vixie and Wyneth stepped back. Mrs. Rathbrook stood up, eyes narrowing as Rozaria Rocato materialized, smiling.
Vixie pulled out her bow and quickly nocked an arrow. “Not another step.”
Rozaria stopped, sizing up Vixie. “Ah, you again? Still trying to prove yourself?”
Vixie minutely shifted her stance, tensing.
“She has nothing to prove,” Aerity said. “She has my full permission to kill you right now.”
“I think we both know she doesn’t have it in her.”
“I just killed one of your soldiers!” Vixie’s voice trembled, despite her confident stance.
“Were you looking him in the eye, as you do now with me?” Rozaria spoke softly.
Vixie didn’t answer, asking instead, “Where’s your friend? The one who hides and sneaks?”
Rozaria appeared amused by her tone. Aerity remembered now that there was a girl, always watching over Rozaria, often in hiding. Her eyes darted around at the trees and shadows. Wyneth turned to look behind them and her eyes grew. “Harrison!”
He crested the hill, looking worse for wear with his uniform torn, dirtied, and bloodied, but he was upright and not at all as winded as they’d been. He stopped and surveyed the scene. Aerity noticed he had no sword. He must have been disarmed in battle and ran to see them off after all. She could scarcely make out his face in the dark distance.
She wondered if he was thinking what she was: that the smart thing to do would be to order Vixie to kill Rozaria now. But Aerity didn’t want to force her sister. She’d been shaken after killing the man from afar. Aerity would do it herself, and she knew Harrison would as well, but in the time it would take to get the bow from Vix, Rozaria could have her hands on one of them, or run and escape. She had to trust that Vixie wouldn’t let Rozaria get away again.
“Keep the arrow aimed at her at all times,” Harrison said. “Everyone else stay clear of her.” Now he focused on Rozaria. “You’re under arrest for conspiracy against Lochlanach. You’re a prisoner of war—”
A burst of mad laughter issued from Rozaria. She laughed until a savage roar rang out, causing her to abruptly shut her mouth and peer down the hill. Aerity caught something glinting from beside a nearby tree, then the glint moved.
“Watch out!” she yelled, and the object flew straight toward Vixie. In a blur, Furball threw himself in the path of the dagger, letting out a raging snarl as the weapon pricked underneath his front leg.
Vixie released her arrow and hit the Lashed girl beneath her collarbone. The girl stumbled out and fell beside Rozaria, the arrow protruding.
“Nicola!” Rozaria moved to block the girl from the rest of them.
“That was my only arrow,” Vixie whispered in a panic.
“I will heal you, Nicola,” Rozaria murmured down at the writhing girl. “Be still for a moment while I finish them.”
Furball growled. Rozaria lifted her gaze and stared at the creature in wonder.
“He’s one of mine, isn’t he?”
“Not anymore,” Harrison told her.
“We’ll see about that.” Rozaria snapped her fingers with authority and clicked her tongue at the beast. Furball gave a pathetic whimper and went back on its haunches, as if afraid or confused.
“This . . .” Rozaria pointed at the creature. “This is that useless cub!” She laughed again. “How did you obtain him?” Then she stared at Aerity in a new way. “You . . . that was you at my camp. And Paxton . . . he knew all along.” Aerity felt a clench of fear until remembering it made no difference now. Rozaria laughed darkly, sounding maniacal. “It matters not. You will both suffer tenfold.”
She began to squat beside Nicola, careful not to turn her back to them.
“Don’t touch her,” Miss Rathbrook said, stepping forward. “She tried to kill the princess. You will not heal her.”
“How dare you command me,” Rozaria spat. “You are the worst kind of Lashed, a traitor of magical blood!”
The royal healer continued to move forward.
“Mrs. Rathbrook,” Aerity warned.
“Move away,” Mrs. Rathbrook demanded.
“I will not,” Rozaria fired back.
As the women eyed each other, Furball snarled, and Harrison bent to pick up the dagger Nicola had thrown.
Mrs. Rathbrook moved closer yet, causing Rozaria to rise, facing her, but still not within reach. Wyneth took a step forward on Rozaria’s other side, and pointed to Harrison.
“Move away, Rozaria, or you will have a dagger in your heart.”
Wyn was standing too close. Aerity was about to tell her to move when Rozaria charged toward Wyneth, her hands outstretched. Shouts and screams split the air. In a flash, Furball was there, bumping Wyneth out of the way. He let loose his most vicious roar yet, towering over Rozaria, who was suddenly immobilized by shock. Mrs. Rathbrook took the opportunity to fall to her knees beside Nicola’s feet and grasp her ankle. Nicola, in a burst of renewed energy, sat up and grasped Mrs. Rathbrook’s arm. Her hood fell back, her scar shining in the moonlight, eyes gleaming with passion. Aerity screamed. At the same time, both Mrs. Rathbrook and Nicola crumpled forward.
“No!” Rozaria shrieked.
“Mrs. Rathbrook . . . ?” Vixie whimpered. Neither of them moved or breathed.
Furball growled when Rozaria stepped closer, and she turned on him. “Enough! I created you, stupid creature, and I will kill you as I should have months ago!” She dived for the beast, but before she could lay her hands on him, Furball sliced a paw through the air. His massive claws slashed her abdomen. Rozaria looked down as blood began to pour from the gashes through her dress, and she rocked back on her heels. Her eyes lifted to her creation as if searching for answers to an unfathomable mystery.
And then Rozaria Rocato fell.
Paxton heaved Prince Vito’s body across the back of a Kalorian horse who’d lost its rider, and began leading it toward the clearing at the edge of town where fighting could be heard. He was shocked to see hundreds of soldiers, and a mass of Kalorian carnage. Most standing appeared to be Ascomannian and Lochlan. The Kalorians who weren’t dead were being subdued, pushed to the ground as prisoners, though some seemed to prefer fighting to the death.
His eyes rose up the hill at the sound of Furball’s brutal roaring. Were the girls up there?
“Oy there, Pax!”
He looked over to find Lief jogging toward him. The coldlands man, splattered with blood, looked at Prince Vito’s body and stopped short, his surprised gaze going back to Paxton. Leif raised his eyebrows in question.
“Aye, it’s him,” Paxton said. “Dead.”
“You killed him?”
Paxton nodded. A grin split Lief’s face, and he grasped Paxton by the shoulder, laughing heartily and giving him a good shake.
“Well done!”
Paxton handed the reins to Lief and left him standing there as he headed up the hill to find Aerity. As he got closer he saw people standing, as well as bodies lying.
Nervousness twisted his insides as he ran the rest of the way.
“Pax!” The sound of Aerity’s beautiful voice filled him with immeasurable joy.
She ran to him, and they collided in an embrace. Coconut and berries filled his senses and he held her tighter, thanking the seas.
“Come,” she whispered. She took his hand and led him the rest of the way up the hill, where Wyneth and Harrison stood. Aerity’s eyes lowered to the bodies, filled with dark pity.
He peered down at Vixie leaning over a very still Mrs. Rathbrook.
“Is she gone?” he asked. Vixie looked up and nodded, sniffing. His heart gave a tight squeeze.
Beside them was Nicola, who also appeared dead. Then, to his complete shock, his eyes landed on Rozaria, whose bloodied hands were splayed across her abdomen, a tremor ratcheting through her. She slowly reached a hand up to Paxton, her eyes beseeching him to heal her. His stomach knotted with the same pity he’d seen in Aerity’s eyes. He knew he shouldn’t feel bad for this woman who’d caused so many others to suffer, but he did. And he knew what he had to do.
Paxton looked at Harrison. “Hold down her wrists. Don’t let her fingers touch you.”
Harrison, though he didn’t seem thrilled, nodded and bent at Rozaria’s side while Paxton moved to her he
ad. The others watched in silence. Paxton lifted Rozaria’s head to his lap and when she whimpered he said, “Sh. It’s almost over.” He held her face in his hands, and concentrated. Inside, her body was a jumbled mess, just as Tiern’s had been the night he’d healed him. Paxton’s energy searched for what he wanted, and then finally found it.
His magic seized her heart and surrounded it. He sent a simple thought to halt its beat. Rozaria’s eyes widened, and she struggled to suck in a last breath. Then she went still. Paxton exhaled and slid her eyelids closed with his fingers.
“You will never hurt again,” he said softly. Relief washed cleanly through his body. He looked up at Aerity, who covered her mouth and closed her eyes, nodding.
A raucous cheer rose up from the bottom of the hill. He knew it meant all the Kalorians had been either captured or killed.
“It’s over,” Harrison said. “We’ve won this battle. Let’s hope we can take the castle and Prince Vito.”
“He’s dead.” Paxton stood and faced them.
“You’re certain?” Aerity asked as if afraid to hope.
“I killed him myself.”
Aerity watched him a moment longer and then flew into his arms, hugging him while her cousin and sister cheered. Paxton kissed the top of her head and held her close.
“Did you find out about Donnie?” she whispered to him.
“Nay,” he regretted to say. “But we will find him.”
Aerity’s arms tightened around him. She was safe for now. He’d done his job. He’d killed for her. For his land. And he would do whatever he had to do to find her brother. He didn’t want to think about what would come after that. He didn’t want to think of letting her go again. For now, he held her close.
Chapter
52
For a group who had just won a war, Princess Aerity and her companions were silent on the cold, dark journey back down to the bay. Ahead and behind them, the soldiers laughed and celebrated. Lord Alvi rode without speaking, seeming deep in thought. The deaths they had witnessed lay heavily on Aerity’s heart. She knew she should tell Vixie and Wyneth that the Isle of Evie had been overtaken. She’d sworn to her sister not to keep any more secrets. She promised herself she would tell them the moment they returned to the castle and not a moment later. She would let them have these moments of peace.