Go! Grandmother’s voice in my mind sounded like a gong before her presence withdrew. I turned away from the ceremony and ran as fast as my bare feet would carry me. I burst out of the High King’s suite, my breath cutting through my throat in hard gasps.
Outside, the night sky held silence, but I could still hear the High King’s spell-song so loud, so clear, so dangerous. The harmonies swam through my head, the low notes colliding in my ears, sounding much the same as carriage wheels grinding against the earth.
The thought of the lands calmed me. I sprinted down the breezeway and into the gardens. I dropped to my knees and knotted my fingers in the grass. The cool strands provided just the anchor I needed to clear the damaging music from my head. The last strain to leave was the High King’s voice, singing the final, condemning note.
I sucked in a breath as silence descended upon me. My sobs shattered this new quiet, and after a few minutes a song of comfort filled the air. Something soft and feathery entered my mind, and I didn’t resist it.
A moment later, someone touched my shoulders. I looked up through tear-filled eyes to find Mari clutching me. “Come now,” she said with such compassion in her gaze my heart pinched. “Let’s return to your suite, Your Highness.” She helped me stand and gently nudged me in the direction of my wing.
“I miss my sister, too,” she whispered. “She’s why I’m here.”
Though my heart struggled to beat in a world where Olive didn’t live, I felt the pain in Mari’s words. “Tell me of her.”
“She got involved in some bad business, and I ended up coming here to protect her.”
“I-I’m sorry.” I hiccupped.
Mari gripped my hand. “You’re almost like a sister to me, Echo.”
Her words brought on a fresh wave of tears, and all I could think about was watching Olive’s chest rise and fall that last time.
#
Though the night ended, when I looked out the window the sky remained dark. Smoke clouded the air, and the chill of winter felt near. My insides raged as dark and cluttered as the weather.
I stood at the balcony door, fogging it with each exhalation. I reached up and ran a finger through the condensation. Cris’s face filled my mind, his kind brown eyes, his quiet strength, his care and concern for me.
I blinked and focused on the glass. I’d drawn a heart while thinking of Cris. I smudged it into nothingness as I sang a desperate location rhyme. As before, the rebound brought a blank image. I sang for Castillo, but he remained absent. I wondered what I expected him to do anyway.
I couldn’t stand to be alone with myself. I hummed a calming tune, which drove the pain from my soul long enough for me to fall asleep.
Forty-Five
Cris sits next to my bed, his lyrical voice weaving the lore stories into vivid pictures that swim around me. He glances at me from time to time, concern and affection riding in his eyes. When I don’t stir, he returns to his book; his voice picks up where it left off in the tale.
When he grows tired of reading, he climbs into bed with me, holds me tight as he strokes my hair. I recognize the music he hums, though he gives no voice to the lyrics. It’s a melody of peace, of healing.
“Wake up, dearest,” he whispers.
I long to hear him sing fully, to feel the power he can wield. When I remember that he’s lost his power, a new hole widens in my already weakened heart.
Castillo enters, drawing Cris’s attention back to political matters. He joins his brother near the door, and they whisper about the village uprisings. The thought of Cris in the hands of men who wish him dead brings a sourness to my stomach I cannot swallow away.
He turns back to me for a moment, presses two fingers to his lips and holds them toward me in a good-bye. I try to wake, to tell him not to go, that he’s in much danger. I cannot move nor speak, and Cris leaves with Castillo.
#
I jerked awake to the sound of the High King’s song. It took me a moment to realize he was not actually here, singing in my suite. I didn’t know how long I had slept, or what time of day or night it was.
Though I only heard silence, a wisp of magic touched my mind, luring me toward the door. I stepped into midnight on the breezeway and strode toward the courtyard where I trained the High King’s magicians.
Moonlight was the only trespasser. I stole across the square quickly and vanished into deeper shadows among the garden, which separated the main castle from my spire.
The tickle of magic danced around me, brushing against my ankles and teasing my hair. I couldn’t quite make out the song, but I realized I must have sung it at some point and it was ready to rebound. It urged me forward, through the grand hall with its staircase and the throne room behind, where I had been received upon my arrival in Nyth. My feet took me back out into the entryway and wove me through the maze toward the gate.
Two guards stood in front of the massive, closed doors, straight and tall and utterly unmoving. I wanted to stop walking and quickly retrace my steps, but the rebound of the spell-song pushed me along.
“I need to go out,” I said upon arriving at the gate.
Neither guard moved.
“Is it unlocked?” I took a step to move past them, and the left guard shot one hand out into my path.
“No one goes out at night.”
“I came in at night,” I responded, my voice strong and true. “The gate was open.”
“The situation in Umon is dire,” the guard said. “No one goes out or comes in at night.”
I lilted my head to the side and tried to see in through the guard’s eyeholes in his helmet. “Situation in Umon?”
“Village uprisings.”
The spell-song pushed against my back, wrapping around me and entering my ears. I recognized it as the location spell for Cris. The image that had previously remained blank flickered with light, showing Cris’s face with his eyes closed.
“I desperately need to go out.” My heartbeat spiked and my voice cracked. “I believe the Prince is out there.” I stood on tiptoe, straining to see through the solid gold gates.
“If he is, that’s his problem,” the guard said, drawing my attention back to him. “No one goes in or out.”
“He’s the High King’s son,” I said. “It’s everyone’s problem if he’s captured or killed.” I glared at him, making my face as unmoving as his, hoping the pulse pounding in my throat would go unnoticed.
He didn’t move to crank open the gates, yet they began to swing inward. My eyes widened as the gates did, as the guard spun with his sword raised. His partner edged closer to him, raising his right arm in a magical attack stance.
“Stand down,” a man said, squeezing past the opening gates. “I’m Castillo de la Fuenta.”
“Castillo,” wisped past my lips, more of a moan than anything else. He looked at me for a long moment before reaching for my hand. When we touched, safety engulfed me.
“The King is in need of your assistance,” he said, his voice a calming influence in my life. Castillo motioned the two guards through. “Come, the King needs you.”
“Lord, we’re to stay here,” the guard said. “No matter the reason.”
“You would let your king die?” Castillo challenged. I edged toward the open gate, afraid it might suddenly suck closed, trapping me inside while Cris remained outside.
“Well, no, we—” the guard stammered. “Our orders are to stay here, no matter the reason.”
“Come on.” The second guard lowered his hand and strode toward Castillo. The sword-bearing guard grumbled, but followed, and I slipped into the night behind them, driven by the rebound of Cris, unmoving and cold.
Castillo slid into step beside me. “Stay close, princess.”
“Oh, so you’re speaking to me now?” I asked, unable to stop myself. Right now, the magic led me in the same direction as Castillo, and so I went.
“Circumstances are not always what they seem,” he murmured. “You should know that.”
 
; “Of course I know that.” A squirm of foolishness snaked through me. I followed the magic to the right, surprised when Castillo curved with me. “Where are you going?”
“To the King.” He seemed to be dragging his left foot. “Where are you going?”
I noticed he did not say the High King. “To Cris.”
“Then we’re going to the same place.” Castillo definitely favored his left foot, though he tried hard not to.
“Where is he?” The words felt stuffed in my throat, clogged and coated with alarm.
“Steady.” Castillo linked his arm through mine in much the same way he had in the compound.
I knew in that moment, that single moment with Castillo touching me and my emotions spiking with worry over Cris, that I was truly in love.
With my husband.
Forty-Six
I couldn’t erase the smile that sprang to my lips at my realization. I knew Castillo and I could be bonds without being lovers. I glanced at him and found him looking at me, too. He raised one eyebrow, but I shook my head. Focusing ahead again, I saw a fallen form. I cried out, pushed away from Castillo, and ran to Cris.
“Cris.” I smoothed his hair off his forehead. His skin felt waxy and too cold. “Wake up,” I pleaded. “Please wake up.”
His lips were parted and looked much too blue and much too dry. His chest rose and fell in the barest of movements, and everything about him appeared too small.
“What happened to him?” I demanded when Castillo knelt next to me.
“The villagers happened to him,” Castillo whispered. “Remember he was to be the distraction? The reason the High King continues this conflict with Umon?” Castillo’s soft pressure on my arm increased. “Don’t worry. They did only as he instructed, and we can heal him.”
Castillo slid his fingers in between mine. “I’ll start.” He used his free hand to trace Cris’s jawline, and he began the healing spell with his rich baritone.
My magic leaped, yearning to join with his. I waited, listening to his beautiful voice weave life back into Cris’s body. How different Castillo’s magic was from his father’s. His was joyful and light, rather than greedy and dark.
I joined my higher voice with Castillo’s when he began the second spell-song. The notes flowed from my body filled with love. Color rushed back into Cris’s cheeks, and he drew a deep breath.
“Echo,” he gurgled before coughing.
“Don’t speak, dearest,” I said, breaking out of the song for a beat. “We’re trying to heal you.”
Castillo and I worked together, united in purpose, the way bonds should be.
#
“The armies of Umon truly stand at the ready?” I asked, hours later, standing in my suite with Cris, Castillo, and Mari. She’d helped me immensely, first by getting me into the High King’s dinner, and then last night when I was so broken over Olive’s death. Things Cris would’ve done for me previously, things that brought two people together.
Cris closed the distance between us and slid his hands along my waist. “Castillo?” He looked at me but spoke to his brother. He blocked my view of the rest of the room, and I lost myself in the depth of his eyes.
“The armies of Umon are camped two hours away,” Castillo said. “They’re awaiting word regarding the attack.”
“The High King suspects nothing,” Mari reported. “I’ve been his personal maid this last week.”
“Surely he doesn’t say everything in front of his maids,” I argued, stepping next to Cris so I could see her.
“Something of this severity would be up for discussion at all hours,” Mari said, and Castillo nodded his agreement.
“The guards at the gate said Umon’s villagers were in open revolt,” I said. “Why would they know about it and not the High King?”
“I’m crafty with a lie,” Castillo said simply, and I couldn’t argue with him. I simply wondered whom he’d lied to—the guards or his father.
“Does the High King have a bond?” I asked, looking at Castillo.
Cris shook his head. “He’d never rely on someone else like that.”
While being bonded would increase his magic, it meant he had to trust someone else explicitly. Depend on them in dangerous situations. It made sense the High King wouldn’t subject himself to such things.
I waited for Castillo to reveal our secret. I’d told him on the way back to the castle that we’d have to disclose everything to ensure the best chance of overthrowing the High King.
He didn’t speak, but watched me with a slight frown marring his lips. I glared. He’d agreed that we’d tell Cris about our bond.
I opened my mouth—
“Echo and I are bonded,” Castillo said.
Cris’s grip on my hand became painful, and Mari gasped. “True bonds?” she asked.
“Yes.” Castillo tore his angry gaze from mine and focused on his brother. His eyes softened as he said, “And nothing more.”
Cris turned me back toward him. “Nothing more?” His lips hardly moved with the words.
“Truly nothing more.”
He accepted my answer and focused on Castillo again. “Should we tell her of our plans?”
“Yes, you should.” I turned to find Castillo glaring once more. “Castillo, I can simply enter your mind while you sleep tonight.”
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight.”
“Cris,” I said, but it sounded like a whine.
“You won’t like it,” he said. “Which is why Castillo does not wish to tell you.”
“She’s powerful,” Castillo said, as if I were not standing right in front of him. “I’m afraid of her.”
“You are not!”
He quirked a smile. “Still, I’d prefer you find out at a time when you cannot do anything to stop us.”
“It’s that bad?” I tried and failed to imagine what they could have possibly done.
“Well, he traded his mother in an agreement with Heona,” Mari said.
The breath left my body. “You did?” I stepped toward Castillo.
Castillo exhaled angrily and clenched his fists. “There is little I would not do to ensure our victory against my father. Helena understood the risks. She agreed to help.”
Cris cleared his throat. “We’re wasting time. There will be plenty of time for anger and revelations later. Let us focus on the approaching army and what we’ll do when they arrive.”
“So what should we do?” I sifted through the spell-songs I knew for one we could use against someone unbonded like the High King.
“You will do nothing,” Cris said.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Castillo and I can work the magic together.”
“I don’t want you doing anything dangerous,” Cris said.
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Everything I do is dangerous, including sneaking through the gates in the dead of night to heal you.”
“She has a point,” Castillo said in barely more than a whisper. “Don’t argue with the girl, Cris. She’ll do what she wants anyway.”
I shot him a daggered look, half-grateful and half-annoyed. “Curse your mouth,” I said, and that caused a chuckle to leak from Cris.
“Fine,” he said. “But you are to stay here and work your magic.”
“I must be with Castillo.” I squeezed Cris’s hand. He looked at me and I begged him with my eyes. Please, I thought. Please don’t deny me this chance to use my voice for good. Please see that this is what your kingdom needs, what you need.
“I must be crazy.” Cris released my gaze and turned to the others. “We’re all insane. My father possesses magic we know nothing of.”
“He’s not immortal yet,” I said.
“That we know of,” Castillo amended. My eyes flew to his.
“You will tell Matu the plan?” Cris asked, and Castillo nodded before turning and leaving. Mari followed him, leaving Cris and I alone.
“Castillo told me about Olive. I’m so sorry,” he said, his head as l
ow as his voice. “My father will pay for the crimes he’s committed.”
I didn’t say that it was fine; it wasn’t. But her death didn’t belong to Cris, so I simply pulled his mouth to mine and enjoyed the taste, feel, and heat of him next to me once again.
#
As I watched the sky lighten in varying degrees, I sang a few notes, the beginnings of a spell that would unravel Castillo’s secrets. I stalled on the last note, wondering if I should simply leave him alone. I’d discovered so many things through my songs, things I might not even need to know.
I cut the song into silence and turned my thoughts to my mother. Her love for my father had driven her to leave me behind, a mere baby.
I thought of her combing the Earth to find the magic to bring him back to the living. I thought of the desperation she must have felt. I thought I might’ve tasted a small portion of it when I saw Cris crumpled on the cobbles. I would’ve used any spell to heal him, any song or rhyme to make him whole again.
I sighed at the emptiness of the bed beside me. He had stayed with me, the warmth of his bare skin beside mine welcome, until he thought I’d fallen asleep. Then he’d slipped from bed and disappeared into his private study. I missed him more now that I knew I loved him.
“Echo, breakfast is here.” Mari spoke from the doorway, but by the time I rolled over she was gone. I hurried to pull on the magician robes she’d laid out and joined her in the dining nook.
“Thank you, Mari.” I looked at her with new eyes and found a loyal friend. She hadn’t told anyone about my magic in the compound. She’d helped me here, especially after Olive’s death.
“I’m sorry about my infatuation with the Prince.” She fiddled with her napkin. “I think there were some foul spells at play.”
“What do you mean?” I hoped my voice didn’t give away that I knew of this trickery already.
“I felt . . . compelled toward him.” She shook her head as if dislodging something painful within. “It doesn’t matter. My behavior is inexcusable.”
I blinked and saw her with her shoes pinched between her fingers as she slinked from Cris’s rooms. “I believe you were going to take one of my memories.”