Dark tendrils roll from her hands, seeping through the cracks in the stone ground beneath us before wrapping around the ankles of a dozen guards and bringing them to their feet. Their heads hit the ground with a wicked crunch, and the Enchantress tips her head back and laughs before she regains her composure and does it again and again.
My magick continues to pulse through my palms, threading out into the courtyard, giving energy and life to each spirit before me. And they accept it like an offering. I push my magick further, my anger fueling me for each Enchantress stuck here. Taken advantage of. Used and abused and tortured and?—
My rage becomes palpable, my teeth clenched so tightly my jaw aches, but the sting in my palms intensifies, more and more magick pushing its way through me.
“Sam!” his voice is broken, but I’d know it anywhere. Jarek calls my name again, and as I glance over my shoulder to where my body remains, my grip on my magick waivers.
Jarek’s tangled in a fight, his ax straining against a steel sword, two men flanking his sides. Elora is running toward me, her hands raised, staving off several guards, setting them aflame.
But what panics me, what sends an icy thrill through my veins, is the guard beforemybody, holding a knife to my throat.
Forty-Eight
Sorin
After usingthe amulet to avoid the guards, Sera guides me through the castle. A part of me wonders just how long she was a prisoner here as she weaves in and out of various halls and passageways with ease.
“It’s this way,” she calls over her shoulder.
As we move through the winding hallways, the sounds from outside draw my attention. Chanting rises from the crowd as I peer out a window. It’s only with the noise from outside that I realize how quiet the castle itself is.
“Sera, wait.”
She stops several feet ahead of me, tilting her head.
“Where are all of Roman’s guards?”
Her face twists, and she glances down the hall behind her, then back to me. More shouting comes from outside.
“Down with the king!”
My stomach sours as I glance out the window.
The guards meet the gate where the crowd is rushing through. I spot Sam in the distance, her arrows flying with precision, hitting target after target. Frantic, my heart races as I look for Elora. The wolves flank her and Jarek’s sides, their teethbared but there are so many people. So many guards that my eyes can’t work fast enough.
Sera joins me near the window. “There are two men in the room just around the corner.”
“We need to get back out there,” I say. “If they plan to take down an army, I can be of assistance.” I reach for my bow, but Sera stops me, her nails digging slightly into my forearm.
“You must find Roman.” Her blue eyes pulse in the gray light, flicking between me and the window. Her hand is trembling, eyes darting around me. “Put an end to this, Your Majesty.” She slips her hand from my wrist and my knees threaten to give way. “Second door on the left, just around the hall. That’s where you’ll find them. I’ll go find the council, they’ve got to be hiding around here.”
“You have no weapons.” I pull a dagger from my boot, but when I offer it to her, she brushes me aside.
“I don’t need weapons, I can be very persuasive.” Her smile lights up her otherwise cold face, and before I can say anything else, she takes off in a sprint back the way we came.
Peeling myself away from the window, away from the sounds of Elora and Sam and Jarek in battle, I take each step with a leaded foot toward the room Sera told me.
Second door on the left.
I nock an arrow, and as I do, the amulet around my neck burns. As if it’s reminding me there are far greater weapons at my disposal than my bow. My fingers draw toward it, a moth to a flickering flame, the desire to test each and every magick stored inside becoming distracting.
But it’s a magick that isn’t mine.
That was never meant for anyone but them.
The Enchantresses.
Mother Gaia.
