He pictured them as he said, “I understand the people of Eden are stronger than they give you credit for. The nobles, the Council—they underestimate you. You understand that the orb is dark, but that does not mean we are in darkness. You know that the orb is but a symbol. The true hope in this kingdom is not a light high above a palace. The true strength of Eden is you.”
The cheers of the crowd filled him. “We must work together and conserve all the power we can to see us through the days to come. The orb will not light again until the winds return. And if the winds continue to deny us, I know you can be counted on to stand strong against any who come to our gates and wish to do harm.”
The people screamed their agreement.
“If that time comes,” he shouted, “I promise that I will be standing beside you.”
The cheers grew louder. Chants of his name and “long live the King” danced on the air.
He turned toward the Council of Elders. Cestrum frowned. Jacobs grinned. Elder Ulrich nodded and joined the others in their applause.
Then the torches behind them flickered.
The still-falling snow began to swirl.
Cheers from below turned to gasps as people pointed at the battlements behind him. Andreus turned and looked up at the blades of the windmills as they slowly began to turn, then gained in speed. The creaks of the windmills echoed with the growing excitement of the crowd.
The blades spun faster. Fiercely blowing snow made it impossible to see.
A gust of wind pushed him off his feet and he stumbled to the ground as all around him he heard cries of “The wind! The wind has returned!”
Through the blanket of snow, the lights on the wall flared brighter than ever before. Hot and bright, and then the lights faded to normal.
The gusting air vanished as quickly as it came.
Andreus climbed to his feet and turned back to the crowd. The snow settled and Andreus spotted a figure standing just a few steps below. He held his breath as the figure lifted her hands, pushed the hood back, and revealed a face he knew as well as he knew his own.
His heart leaped even as his legs trembled.
Gasps echoed behind him.
“It is not the wind that has returned,” Carys said, looking up at him. The defiance that had saved his life was bright in her eyes. “I have.”
15
Everything was silent. The crowd. The wind. It was as though someone had wiped away all sound save the pounding of her heart.
Carys looked up at her brother wearing the crown that he had been willing to kill for.
She fought for calm, wishing Errik were standing beside her now. For the past two days, his support and faith had bolstered her efforts to strengthen safe control of her power. When she surrendered with calm, she had gone so far as to coax the wind to lift Errik, Larkin, and the horses on a gentle wave, gliding above the ground as it passed in a blur underneath them, allowing them to travel more swiftly than she had believed possible.
But no matter how hard she worked to keep her emotions in check, fear about the assembling Bastian army or the Xhelozi’s growing boldness was always a breath away, pushing against her defenses. When it broke through, the gentle wind changed into a swirling tunnel that pulled bushes out of the ground and the air from her lungs.
The first time it had happened, the horses tossed their heads and Larkin screamed as the twisting air engulfed her and spun her off the ground.
Carys had tried to picture the hidden passages beneath the palace. She’d fought to imagine something that made her feel safe to stop the flow of air as Kiara had instructed. But no matter what she imagined, Larkin was turned and pulled in front of her and the memory of the man the wind broke into pieces filled her mind.
Her fear grew and the wind blew stronger.
Then she felt a warm hand engulf hers.
Errik—steady and calm and strong.
Suddenly, Carys could breathe again.
The tunnel faded. Larkin landed on the ground with a thud—scared but unharmed. Still, it was enough to make Carys unsure when Larkin urged her to try again.
“I’ll just stand behind you, this time,” she joked once the horses had been calmed and they all had a chance to rest. When Carys didn’t laugh, Larkin dropped her smile, looked her in the eye and said, “I believe you can do this, Carys. I believe in you.”
“As do I,” Errik said, sliding his hand in hers.
Carys faced her power again. And that’s how they traveled—with Errik’s hand tight in hers as the wind swept them across the kingdom back to the entrance of the tunnels that they had used weeks ago to make their escape, back to the walls she had always hated and sought to break free of, and back to her home.
A home that had been taken from her. A home that she was determined to reclaim.
Anger simmered as she unhooked her cloak and let it drop in a pool to the snowy steps. The gasps in the night said the garment Larkin had hastily put together for this moment had been well worth it.
The ensemble was one Larkin had been working on when she had been forced into hiding during the Trials. After arriving back in the city, Larkin and Errik had stolen through the night to her father’s shop to retrieve it. The deep-silver, skintight trousers and fitted white tunic were edged in both blue and yellow. In the torchlight, Larkin said, Carys would look like a candle against the darkness. From the belt at Carys’s waist hung her two silver stilettos—the weapons with which they had seen her defend her brother with skill.
Murmurs came from the people in the city below. Members of the court stepped closer as if trying to decide whether their eyes were deceiving them. The cold seeped into her body, but she refused to shiver. Instead, she straightened her shoulders, clenched her hands into fists at her side, and waited for her brother to say something.
Frustration and anger churned. The wind whispered in her mind, and she yearned to lash out.
Then her twin smiled.
The smile was so familiar. It stole her breath and pushed her off balance because for a moment, in her brother’s eyes she could swear she saw joy.
“Imposter!” Elder Jacobs rushed forward and pointed down at her.
“What?” Carys thought she heard her brother say over the din of voices repeating the charge.
“Guards! Seize her!” Elder Jacobs called. A dozen Guardsmen standing at attention at the top of the steps drew their swords and started down the snow-slick stairs. “Princess Carys is dead. This woman dares befoul her memory.”
“I am Princess Carys!” she yelled, drawing her stilettos as the guardsman advanced. Anger spiked hot and fast. The wind howled in her mind, but she pushed the whispers back. “I was injured in the Trials, but I did not die. I am the one who saved my brother’s life in the Trial of Humility and scaled the wall when you required me to show strength. I watched you allow an innocent boy to be killed in the Hall of Virtues because of your twisted view of temperance. And I was left for dead by Prince Andreus, my twin, during the Trial of Endurance.”
Her words echoed in the night. All around her people gasped. Elder Cestrum moved to stand next to Elder Jacobs. The Chief Elder held up his iron claw and shouted, “Halt,” which caused the guards to pause their advance. His eyes narrowed as he studied her—as they all studied her.
Anger pulsed in her chest, and she took the steps upward—eyes on the men in the Council, stilettos firmly clenched in her hands. “You have forced me to compete. You have bruised my body and pushed me near death, but you will not deny who I am.” Carys spun and faced the crowd below. “I am Princess Carys, daughter of King Ulron, Protector of Virtue and Defender of Light. I promised that I would always stand for you, and I have returned to claim my throne.”
From the back of the crowd came cheers that grew louder with every beat of her heart.
Carys turned toward her brother, who stood still as a statue on the platform in the center of the landing at the top of the stairs.
“Do you deny it, Andreus?” she demande
d. “Do you deny it is I, your sister, standing before you now?”
A hush fell over the crowd. The Elders turned to face Andreus as the Guardsmen tightened their grip on their weapons. Carys held her breath. The wind howled in her mind, and she knew if the guards attacked she would set it free even if it meant destroying herself.
Elder Cestrum stepped forward and called, “King Andreus, what is your judgment?”
Carys waited for him to deny her, but her brother looked her in the eyes and said, “This is my sister, my twin. Princess Carys has returned.”
The crowd roared anew.
Elder Cestrum strode forward and stroked his beard with his claw. He held up his hand and waited for quiet before saying, “The Trials of Virtuous Succession were declared to be at an end, and yet here Princess Carys stands, which places King Andreus’s claim to the throne in doubt.”
The court behind the Elders gasped. The crowd below seemed to hold its breath as Elder Jacobs pushed himself forward. “I beg to differ. The law on this matter is clear. Once the Trials of Virtuous Succession started, Princess Carys and King Andreus were bound by law to compete until one of them won the throne or the other was dead. King Andreus fulfilled his obligation. His claim to the throne is undeniable while you, Princess, fled. You committed treason against the crown. King Andreus, I recommend the Princess be locked in the North Tower until she can stand trial for her crime.”
Guardsmen advanced again, and the crowd’s rumbles of upset turned into a roar. People chanted her name. Guardsmen started down the steps to push them back, but the people weren’t retreating at the show of force. They were coming to protect her.
And in doing so, they could die.
The whispers pulled harder, but Carys shook them away and called, “Leave them alone!” Snow swirled, and she focused on what she had come here to do. “The last Trial was that of Endurance. I was injured and wounded and yet I endured. For me the Trials never ended.”
“But they ended here,” Elder Cestrum said. Behind him several Elders nodded. “The Council declared the Trials ended and by law Andreus is King.”
“The law stated that the Trials of Virtuous Succession must either be won or the other successors must be dead for a new ruler to be installed on the throne. I stand here as proof that the conditions of the law have not been met.” She straightened her shoulders and called. “I demand the Trials continue.”
Andreus met her eyes and gave a small shake of his head as sound exploded around her. Cheers. Shouts of anger. Waves of unrest.
Elder Cestrum gave a hint of a smile as Elder Jacobs shouted, “No! The Council of Elders has already decided this matter. Andreus is King.”
“We thought Princess Carys was dead. We were wrong.” Elder Ulrich stepped forward. His eye turned toward her, and he folded his hands in front of him. “Princess Carys, I speak for all of Eden as I welcome you home. We asked you to endure, and it is clear by you standing here today that you did.”
Elder Jacobs shook his head. “Just because . . .”
“Not only that,” Elder Ulrich continued. “But when Princess Carys appeared, the wind that abandoned us returned. The lights on the walls shone brighter. The windmill blades turn now as they have not in weeks. We cannot in good conscience ignore such a clear sign of our mistake. Our way forward is clear. The Trials must start again.”
“I agree,” Andreus announced.
Carys looked at her brother, who reached up and lifted the crown from his head. Beside him, Elder Jacobs shook his head as Elder Ulrich pulled Elder Cestrum close and whispered insistently in the Chief Elder’s ear.
“Your Majesty!” Elder Jacobs climbed the first step. Carys itched to use her stilettos. “I understand you are surprised by your sister’s return, as are we all, but I believe we should wait until the next Seer of Eden arrives before any decision is made. Captain Monteros will appear with the seers soon, and he or she will help us make the correct choice.”
Before Carys could speak, her brother said, “There is only one choice. Princess Carys is my twin and she is alive.” Her brother handed the crown to Elder Cestrum. Then he stepped off the platform and slowly walked down the snowy steps that separated them. He picked up the cloak that she had discarded, and placed it over her shoulders, immediately chasing away some of the chill of the night. His eyes met hers and held them. If he was waiting for her to look away first, he would have to wait a very long time. It was then she saw the flicker of pain in their depths. Despite the cold, there was sweat on his forehead. Her brother must be currently waging war against his illness—his curse.
Then he turned so they were standing shoulder to shoulder, and in a voice thick from exertion or emotion, he called, “The Trials we thought had ended are not over, which means the throne is not yet mine.”
Yet!
Elder Jacobs took a step up the dais. “But King Andreus, the kingdom needs a ruler. With the lights and the Xhelozi . . .”
“Prince Andreus has made his decision,” Elder Cestrum said smoothly as he took the place on the platform that Andreus had vacated.
Her brother’s breathing was harsh.
She could feel him tremble beside her.
Suddenly everything that had happened faded away as the instinct to aid him—to save him—pushed through the anger. Despite that instinct, she forced her eyes to stare straight ahead—to keep focused on why she was here. She had returned to save Eden from the forces that were threatening to take the throne and from the monsters roaming the countryside. It was no longer her responsibility to act as his shield. Andreus had severed that tie when he turned on her and left her for dead. He did not deserve her love or her loyalty. If he had his remedy with him, he could save himself. If not, then he had only himself to blame.
They were standing together as they always had done, but they were no longer a team. Andreus had made his choice, and they were now each standing alone.
Still, the anger and bitterness that had built a wall around her heart since she left the Palace of Winds began to crumble. When he had been standing above her wearing the crown he had coveted, Andreus had been easy to hate. This Andreus next to her was more like the one she had always known. The one she would have done anything for.
Elder Cestrum said, “With the return of Princess Carys, it is the decision of the Council of Elders that the Trials of Virtuous Succession will continue as the law decreed.”
From behind the Elders where the court stood, Carys heard a voice scream, “No!” Which was drowned out by the roar of the crowd below.
Beside her, Andreus stiffened.
Elder Cestrum held up a hand for silence and then continued. “At the end of the Trial of Endurance, Prince Andreus returned with the crown in hand and a lead on the scoring board. But much has happened since then and those events must be considered. By her return, Princess Carys has shown the ability to endure during difficult circumstances. She has suffered her own Trial of Patience and in doing so has gained not only the respect of the Council of Elders, but has earned the right to additional points on the scoring board. Therefore, it is the decision of the Elders that Prince Andreus and Princess Carys are both equal in points for the Trials of Virtuous Succession.”
Equal!
Now she did look at her twin.
His breathing came in shallow bursts that turned to smoke in the cold. His hands were balled into fists at his side.
“However, Elder Jacobs is correct. This is a dangerous time for our kingdom. We need a king or queen to lead us safely through the cold to the warmer months ahead. After conferring with Elder Ulrich and the others, I have decided that the Trials will begin again tomorrow, and the winner of one contest will be declared the winner of all.”
Cheers roared in the night.
Her name was shouted again and again. Here and there, she heard her brother’s name called, but it was hers that rang above it all. They had not forgotten her while she was gone. They did not know of the danger that was coming, just that they were ha
ppy she had returned.
Slowly she turned around and faced those who called for her. She placed her hand to her heart and lifted it toward them and in the flickering torchlight saw hundreds return the salute.
She lifted her eyes to meet her brother’s so he could see her triumph. So he would know that while she had agreed to allow him to win the crown the last time they faced the Trials, this time she was going to win.
His cheeks glistened with sweat. He swallowed hard against the pain of his illness, and she lifted her chin as if daring him to ask for her help. Part of her wanted him to ask so she could walk away and see him fall as he had done to her.
Instead, he placed his hand against his heart. When he extended it to her, she saw tears in his eyes. It was tears, not sweat on his cheeks. And his eyes—they were filled with sorrow and love and a desperate desire for forgiveness.
They were the eyes of the brother who she thought was lost to her. One who she hadn’t expected to see.
She stepped back even as her heart urged her to step forward. Andreus had betrayed her once to gain the throne. She could not weaken in her anger or resolve or he would betray her again. He had proven that the crown was the only thing he wanted. She could not—she would not—allow herself to forget that or this time it would not only be she that fell but all of Eden.
“Carys,” her brother said as the crowd continued to shout its excitement.
She pushed away the wrenching ache in her stomach and looked up at the windmills—picturing them churning the still-falling snow.
Cheers turned to gasps.
Andreus called her name again, this time with a hint of fear.
The snow swirled around her and grew thicker as the wind pulled it from the ground and sent it dancing into the sky.
Gears creaked and rattled, and Carys hurried up the steps through the blinding snow—the wind hiding her from view while guiding her way to the arching entrance of the palace.
The snow settled. She heard Andreus shout her name. The lights on the wall flared as if on fire as she turned on her heel and headed into the palace, leaving her brother and the connection she had to break behind.