“Hopefully, the key will work. We’ll see as soon as the wards are gone.” Yrsa swallowed.
“Vale?” Mother’s voice sounded fainter than before. Sweat beaded her forehead, and were her hands trembling?
“What is it?” I asked, straining my ears to tune out the many prisoners shouting about us, and who they suspected we were here for, in an effort to hear oncoming footsteps.
“I think I—” She stumbled over to the side of the cell and braced herself with one arm right before her eyes fluttered closed, and she fell to the ground in a faint.
“What in all the nine kingdoms?” Qildor’s magic halted for a moment, but Geiravor nudged him.
“Keep going! I think I’m close.”
My friend continued but shot me a look of concern. Of questions.
But I had no answers. Just worries.
“I hear footsteps,” Freyia said. “They’re coming.”
Geiravor let out a frustrated hiss. “Come on, Qildor!”
“I’m trying.”
“Weapons out.” I turned to face those coming for us just as they came into view.
Row after row of soldiers, marching four across, came at us. Armed to the teeth, there were at least fifty opponents, though the dimness made it difficult to count.
“Hands up,” a soldier barked. “We have you cornered.”
“They don’t,” Yrsa whispered. “The underground passageway, we can still use it.”
I stepped forward, daggers in both hands. Astril and Freyia slipped into place beside me, and Caelo and Thantrel posted up behind with Isolde and Thyra.
“We’ll take our chances.” With one dagger, I pointed to the front line, feeling far more like a villain than the Warrior Bear of Winter’s Realm. “Valkyrja.”
The vampires shot forward. The oncoming soldiers balked, and sounds of shock rang out as two of their own from each side of the front line fell. Then the middle ones. Before the second line lashed out, the vampires darted back, out of the way.
The soldiers exchanged wary glances. Debating whether to come at us or not.
“Stay there,” I commanded. “Not another pace forward and we won’t harm you. I pro?—”
A low, cunning laugh came from somewhere in the lines of soldiers, sending the fire of rage simmering in my belly.
Chapter 36
VALE
The soldiers parted to reveal the king and my twin. The former stared us down, his face as cold as the ice and frost already forming on his fingertips. Rhistel, on the other hand, was the picture of calculated control with his cutting smile. Far more concerning was the fact that his ice spider silk gloves were off.
I scanned the soldiers, looking for glazed eyes or any sign that they might be under my twin’s power. Nothing stuck out, but I wasn’t sure that meant they were in their right minds. Mother could hide her whispering, and clearly Rhistel had been practicing more often than I knew if he could control her.
“Glamour or no, you cannot hide from me.” Rhistel’s gaze dragged down my body, ensuring I knew who he spoke with. “That stance. That arrogance you exhibit when you’re doing the only thing you’re good at. I know who you are. Knew you’d come.”
“Traitor,” the king spat. “Which one is your wife?”
I thanked the stars for Caelo’s glamours. My brother and the king might be familiar with my posturing, but not that of the others.
Unlike Magnus, though, Rhistel did not seem too concerned with Isolde. Instead, his attention drifted to the vampires. “Bloodsuckers. Nowthatis interesting.”
“We prefer Red Assassins.” Astril twirled a dagger in her hand.
