Pieces of Jade

  “Who all knows what happens here?” Pearl asked.

  William didn’t look away from me when he answered. “Only the head Guardian and a few top officials. I was about to be promoted when they brought me here. Keeping Jade captive here was the one thing I could never do. I refused—they imprisoned and tortured me.”

  I leaned forward, suddenly understanding. “You were tortured for . . . her? You suffered through Guardian’s Flames because you refused to be part of this?”

  He nodded with conviction burning in his eyes. “Yes. And I would do it again.”

  “Do you see the truth of the kingdom now, Sheridan?” Clayton asked.

  “Far more than I ever wanted to.” I took a steadying breath. “I never knew such cruelty existed.”

  I jumped when Lafe raced into the room. “They’re coming.”

  “How did they find us?” Clayton asked.

  “Dorian,” Lafe said, breathing hard as he gripped a weapon.

  William and Clayton each drew their swords, as did I. Pearl, readied herself with an old sword from the chamber. I hoped she knew how to use it. A burst of magic shot through the room as soldiers raced down the stairs.

  I mumbled the charm of concealment just as five soldiers came tumbling into the room, led by Dorian. It was a struggle to maintain so large a bubble. My hands shook and sweat beaded along my brow, but I held it. Until the last man entered the room.

  James.

  Chapter 24

  James’s wheat-colored hair fanned his face, his broad shoulders straining against his jacket. Shock shattered my concentration and we flickered back into view as my charm failed.

  James stood there, scanning our small group. His eyes passed over me without recognition, my disguise fooling him. What surprised me was my own lack of reaction. Outside of shock, I felt nothing. Not anger, not devotion. Only the same feeling I’d get at seeing an old acquaintance.

  William stepped in front of me, sword ready. James still analyzed the situation, hesitating in this final moment. There was a reluctance in his steps, uncertainty in his eyes. And it was as if, for the first time, I was seeing him for who he truly was, not as the man I thought him to be.

  James’s eyes narrowed. “None of them leave this room.”

  There were over a dozen soldiers, and more stood waiting on the stairs beyond, weapons at the ready as they advanced on us.

  The clash of steel on steel reverberated in my ears.

  Clayton shoved Pearl behind him and swung his sword, moving beside an already fighting William. Dorian ran straight toward me. William, having slain his opponent, stepped between us and ran him through with his blade. Dorian grunted as the steel pierced him, his eyes already dull by the time William withdrew his sword. Dorian fell slack to the floor.

  William stared at the body, his jaw tightening as he lifted his blade for his next opponent.

  Even as I fought off the guard’s advances, I noticed James advance on William, pushing my husband back with his fierce blows.

  “James,” William said, countering his initial attack, “let us go.”

  James laughed. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Again? I pulled my sword from a soldier, and let the body slump to the floor as I turned to watch the two battle. Their stance—the practiced blows that said they knew each other’s fighting style—reminded me that James had studied with the Hounds. Did they know each other?

  “You can come with us,” William said, wiping sweat from his brow.

  James’s eyes narrowed and he lunged at William. “Never.”

  James was better, and William barely managed to avoid the deadly blows. I had to do something. I angled in. William noticed my movement and compensated as I attacked James from the left while William struck from the right. The prince fought furiously, battling with a sword in each hand. He retreated a step, his eyes growing wide and his movements more desperate.

  James leaned toward William to strike, leaving me an opening, a path of clear access to his chest. It would be so easy to pierce his heart and end this all now, but instead of delivering the blow, I hesitated.

  He’d wanted to cancel my execution.

  And suddenly it all seemed so clear. He’d wanted to take me away from here—to change my fate, to ensure I never ended up a prisoner in this room.

  The moment was over in a second and I missed my chance. James parried William’s blow, his sword moving swiftly to a weak spot in William’s defense, finding its mark.

  William groaned, jerking his sword up and catching James in the arm. The blow was glancing, weak, but James clutched it as if he’d been mortally wounded.

  “NOOO! William!” I screamed.

  Time seemed to stretch, and the world darkened, falling away piece by piece. All I could see was the hilt of James elaborate sword sticking out from William’s chest, blood flowing freely around it. Dully I realized I’d given James that weapon, a birthday gift the previous year. I’d designed it myself.

  William’s eyes were wide, his mouth open in an ‘O.’ He fell to his knees and I moved to his side, helping ease him to the ground so his head was in my lap. I wiped his hair back from his face and his beautiful eyes—so kind and full of life—met mine and sparked silver for a moment. And in that second, a vision danced between us.

  At first, all I could see was the red wooden door of a small hut. It opened and four children ran out—two girls with violet eyes and blonde hair, and a pair of boys with hazel eyes and light brown hair. A woman came chasing out after them and they shrieked in delight as she caught them, wrapping them with hugs and kisses. She was so beautiful, but that beauty went beyond the physical—she radiated happiness. A pair of heavy boots stopped before her and she looked up. Her smile grew even wider, full of such joy that I envied her. Then her husband’s face came into focus.

  It was William.

  He bent down and stroked her cheek, pulling a weed from her hair. “Oh Jade, what the castle would say if they could see you now.”

  Jade?

  I looked at the girl again and realized it was me. Was this real? Was I seeing the future that I could have had with William? The vision-Jade’s smile collapsed as the children around her vanished one by one, like wisps of smoke, until it was just the two of us in the dungeon with William bleeding out in my arms.

  His shirt was now soaked with blood. The vision had taken less than the blink of an eye but it had felt like an eternity. The joy I had felt was ripped from me, replaced by the sounds of swords and the scent of death.

  “I wanted that,” he whispered. “I’m sorry we’ll never get it.”

  “No!” Clayton tore across the room and let out an animal roar as he lunged at James again and again. I dragged William into a recessed corner, away from the battle.

  “William,” I called, gathering him in my arms again. “You’re going to be fine. You have to be.” William began coughing while blood leaked from his mouth. Panic seized me as William’s chest rattled. “You can’t die. Not now. Not after all of this.”

  I cast the charm to seal his wounds, closing the skin, but the deep damage remained, and the gurgling in his chest continued to worsen. I’d seen my skin healed many times—had done it myself on the island—but I’d never been taught how to heal inside the body. What else could I do? My blood cured the soil, and I had already healed him once from the plague. But this was different. His body was broken and ravaged. I’d never needed to be stronger, and yet here I was, the weakest and most helpless I’d ever been. But I had to try. I sliced along my finger and smeared my blood across his lips, wiping it on his tongue.

  William swallowed. I waited, hoping it would cure him. But nothing happened. William held his hand up and cupped my face. I cradled his hands in my own as I stared at his dying body.

  “My Emmía.” The respect in his tone hurt in ways it shouldn’t—I could see the love in his eyes, and it all added up to him saying goodbye.

  “William, no,” I begged. “Stay with me! Y
ou promised you’d never leave me alone.”

  My eyes sped across the room, taking in the scene of devastation unfolding. Lafe was clutching his side, Pearl had a sword to her throat, and Clay had tripped over a fallen body with James advancing. My gaze shifted to the mutilated corpses pinned to the wall. So much death. So much sorrow in one room.

  William was going to die here.

  William. Panic built in me along with something else, from the marrow of my bones a force welled up inside. It filled every inch of me, pulsing and pushing against my skin, fighting to break free. The man battling Lafe turned in my direction and slashed at me with his sword, nicking the skin. A few drops of my blood dripped to the ground. I heard its fall and the energy swelling inside of me escaped through my pores and exploded in a burst of light. The blast sent everyone around us flying into the walls, while leaving us completely untouched. When the light dimmed, I found myself surrounded by dead and unconscious bodies on the floor. My cheek lowered to William’s face, feeling for breath. It was thready, but still there.

  I hastened towards Pearl, shaking her awake, before moving onto the captain. “Clayton, wake up.” My words were garbled and choked from my tears. I tried again. “Wake up, Clayton. We need to get out of here. William is—” I couldn’t say the word.

  He scrambled to his feet, gripping his sword and looking wildly around.

  “William is hurt.” I couldn’t meet Clayton’s eyes, afraid he would see my guilt there. It was my fault. If I hadn’t hesitated, if I’d just taken the opening against James when I’d had the chance, this wouldn’t have happened.

  The captain’s eyes flooded with pain. “I know.”

  Pearl helped Lafe to his feet and they inched toward us.

  “More are coming,” Lafe yelled as he looked up the stairs. “We need to get out of here.”

  The captain looked torn as he stared at the unconscious body of James on the other side of the room. Clayton took a step toward him, his hand regripping his sword.

  Lafe glared at James before moving to block Clayton’s path. “There isn’t time. We’ve got to move.”

  Clayton shoved him out of the way, but Lafe grabbed his arm. “We’ve got to get William to safety.”

  Through a roared curse, Clayton picked up an empty jar and hurled it at James, hitting him square in the face. The glass shattered on impact, knocking his head back and slicing his face. He groaned but didn’t regain consciousness.

  Waves of magic emanated from the staircase, and my head snapped toward the door. “Guardians.”

  “Through the other door,” Clayton said. He spun toward me. “Sheridan, what you just did, can you do it again? Once we’re on the other side, can you collapse this room?”

  I glanced around. “With pleasure.”

  “Then it’s time to give the Emmía’s a proper burial.”

  I smiled and nodded. The newfound power surging through my veins sparked, flickering, ready for use. Pearl grabbed a torch and opened the door so Clayton and Lafe could carry William through. I went last, slamming the door, and magically sealing it behind us.

  A surge of white magic rimmed the door behind us—the Guardians were trying to open it.

  “Now, Sheridan!” Clayton called. “Collapse the room!”

  I pulled at the magic thrumming in my body, gathering it in my fingertips. Instinctively, I knew what to do with it. I placed my hands against the rough wooden door and released a wave of power into the cursed room beyond. Through the force of the magic, I felt the walls giving way, the ceiling crumbling in large chunks and the limestone floor trembling, the dirt beneath it rumbling and pulling apart. Screams of those inside assaulted my ears. Had I done enough? Did I need to do more? From the other side of the door, I could make out the scuffling of feet and the shifting of debris moving toward us.

  They were still coming.

  A jolt of terror spiked my pulse, and that fear shot through my hands and into the room in a mighty eruption. The tunnel surrounding us shook, cracks forming in the walls, silt raining down from above. The floor beneath me quivered and, with a sickening thud, a piece of the wall fell away, allowing a flood of dirt to wash over us, knocking us off our feet. Still the power leaked from me and the world trembled.

  “Stop now, Sheridan, or you’ll kill us all,” Clayton’s voice called out in a weak voice. I forced myself to calm, taking a deep breath. Through the dirt, Pearl’s reassuring hand found mine. I sat up, dazed and weak. Clayton held a hand to his head, applying pressure to a dripping cut.

  Lafe crouched, sweeping his hands through the dirt. “William’s been buried—help me dig.”

  I couldn’t breathe. My lungs constricted and my world dimmed. What had I done? I scrambled to the small mound of rock and dirt where Lafe was clawing and shoved aside dirt until I found William’s face.

  Pearl cleared his chest and dropped her head to listen. “He is breathing. But barely.”

  I looked up, tears blurring my vision. “Is there anything you can do, Pearl?”

  She looked at me, shoulders drooping in defeat. “I don’t have any of my healing supplies. And my magical healing is too weak to be of any use, but I can try.” She lowered her hands over his heart and closed her eyes. Her fingertips shone in a pale blue light as she applied her healing magic to his battered body.

  She slapped her hand against her knee. “It isn’t working!”

  I stroked his cooling face “Wake up, William,” I begged.

  Even unconscious, William’s head turned toward my voice, his cheek pressing into my touch. He murmured something, the wheezing words cut off as he coughed up a grizzly mud of blood and dirt.

  Pearl wiped the muddy spittle from William’s mouth and examined it. Then forced his mouth open and lowered her head to once again listen to his chest. “He’s inhaled dirt into his lungs—it’s choking him. His mouth must have been open when the tunnel collapsed.”

  William let out a breath of air that rattled up his throat and his rib cage quivered once, twice and then no more. The luster in his hazel eyes drained, dulling. The faint beat of his heart fell quiet, and he let out his final breath. The strand of rope around my ring finger fell away, releasing me from the magical bond of my marriage vows. It confirmed what I didn’t want to believe.

  William was dead.

  The world around me grew dark and cold.

  “No.” My whisper died in the barren tunnel. Some wafting dirt caught in my lungs and I coughed. I brought my hand to my mouth, replaying Pearl’s words from moments before. “Dirt?”

  I grabbed the knife from Clayton’s boot and slashed the edge across my palm, pressing the wound over William’s mouth. The blood ran down his lips and into his mouth. I chanted the blood-letting ritual, squeezing my hand, milking blood from my cut, willing it to heal him.

  Nothing happened.

  His wound still gaped, his breathing didn’t start; he was still dead.

  “He needs more.” I re-gripped the blade and brought it down to my wrist, but a hand pulled my arm, making my thrust miss. My eyes flashed as I spun at Clayton, who still clutched my wrist. He shrank back, but kept my arm in his grasp. “More blood won’t help, Sheridan! Lafe, Pearl, carry William out. We’re not leaving him here.”

  Pearl and Lafe lifted William’s limp form between them and struggled down the tunnel. The captain’s eyes never left mine. “What were you thinking?”

  “I was trying to help.”

  “By killing yourself? I don’t know what sort of deep magic you were invoking just now. You were losing yourself in it.”

  “I had to help him,” I said feebly. The adrenaline abandoned me and my heavy head swayed on my neck. The world tilted and I started to fold forward. Clayton caught me before I fell.

  His eyes shone with concern. “At the expense of your own life? It was killing you.”

  From far down the tunnel, Pearl gasped. “He’s breathing!”

  My body froze, afraid to believe her words.

  Before I
could react, Clayton hugged me tight. “Did you do that? Did you save him?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t care! He’s breathing.” My heart swelled and with a smile I threw my arms around him.

  He tucked my head under his chin and little splats of water on my head made me glance up. Tears traced lines down the dirt covering his face. “Thank you.”

  I stepped forward, making my way to William, when the blast from the Manacle’s side of the cave-in took us by surprise. I was thrown by the explosion. My body slammed into the wall so hard, my world went black.

  Chapter 25

  As I battled from the depths of unconsciousness, it felt like a blacksmith was working his anvil against my skull.

  I lifted my head, every muscle crying in pain, and tensed at the exertion. My tongue felt awkward, my limbs heavy, and my brain slow. I tried to stand, but discovered ropes tying me to the chair, pinning my arms behind my back. From the feel of it, my ankles were also bound. Splinters from the chair poked through the fabric of my clothes and into my skin.

  An overwhelming, sulfurous stench clouded the air. I knew that smell, the remains of evil magic. My father had shown me a place desecrated by it once. I opened my dry eyes, but little light penetrated the blackness. I was in a dungeon-like room with low ceilings, about thirty feet long and half as wide, lit by a few guttering torches.

  I struggled at the restraints holding my wrists, but couldn’t wiggle free. My mind was too muddled to think of a spell to loosen them. Where were the others? Were they already dead?

  My gut burned like it’d been sliced by a knife. William . . .

  The chair wobbled on uneven legs at my efforts, the ropes ripping at a wound in my side, the white-hot pain bringing a scream from my throat I couldn’t control. Warm, sticky blood trickled from it, its metallic scent mingling with the sulfurous stench of magic to produce a new, nauseating smell.

  Outside of the throbbing headache, I heard a swish of sound, like the rush of water in a stream. I didn’t just hear it, I felt it, resonating inside me. Like the tail of a kite, I could follow it to its source.