“No,” she said, shaking her head, then crying out as the pain intensified.
“It’s the only way. I understand you don’t want to block him out, but you have to if you want to help him. You’re no good to him like this.” Iyana only groaned and curled into herself tighter. “Iyana!”
The sound of her actual name on her love’s lips made her focus. She called to her magic, willing it to help her, to make the pain stop. A wall of fire, heat without the burn, scorched through her body and settled against her skin. Iyana took a deep breath. Echoes of pain were still present, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been a second before. Her spine cracked as she straightened out. Altair pulled her back into his chest, one hand keeping a galloping Pryn in check.
“Are you with me, my love?”
Iyana nodded, sighing. “I think so.”
“Never do that to me again.” His arm was tight around her waist.
Zane rode hard next to them, Ryunn and Pryn racing each other as only brothers could do. “You realize this might be a trap, right?” he called over the rushing wind. The storm which had been threatening all night rolled in, snow falling in earnest. Iyana’s barrier of fire kept her warm.
“Oh, it’s definitely a trap!” Kaz yelled from Talon’s horse behind them.
Iyana looked over her shoulder at Altair—his brow furrowed, a frown tight on his mouth. It must be a trap, then. Fantastic.
She nearly sobbed when she finally saw the tall tower of the library through the trees and clouds. The three horses slowed at the edge of the trees, eventually coming to a stop.
“Why did we stop? We need to go over there!” Panic bubbled up inside Iyana. She worried it would spill over. Calm. She needed calm. Altair’s hand wrapped gently around her throat, the only area of skin exposed, and pushed his calming magic through her. Iyana sighed with relief.
“We need a plan, astalle. There’s too much open ground surrounding the library, and if we charged in there now, we’d be at a disadvantage.” She briefly wondered what he’d done for work before going into the sky, because he seemed to know some military strategy. “What do you think, prince?”
Zane sat atop Ryunn, frowning. In that moment, Iyana thought he’d never appeared more like a crown prince, poised to take over an empire. “I think it’s likely my father and our luck has run out.”
“What’s the best approach?”
Zane thought for a moment. A pulse of pain struck her cheekbone, and she winced. She reinforced her barrier because Altair was right—she was no good to Emmeric if she was also in pain.
“We should approach on foot,” Zane said. “He’ll be less inclined to use arrows that way, and I’d rather my horse not die today. He wants you, Altair. Is a trade and escape an option?”
Altair shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure what the astmina is capable of, but if it was shielding us from viewing him, it most likely can bind me somehow.”
“Then we play it by ear. My father is very strategic and regimented. If we can surprise him, we have a chance. Everyone be on your guard, don’t let anybody get behind you. Uther isn’t opposed to literally stabbing people in the back.”
They tied their horses to a tree and gave them an apple as a preemptive apology. Iyana took a deep breath to try to steady her nerves. It didn’t help. Altair gave her hand a squeeze and a sad smile.
“It will be okay, astalle. We’ll get him back.” He pursed his lips together and glanced away.
“But?” Iyana asked, trying to draw out whatever it was he didn’t want to say. He sighed.
“Please promise me, should things get out of control and it’s clear we won’t win, you run.” She started to shake her head, but Altair gripped her shoulders roughly and leaned down to look her in the eye. “You run, Iyana. Please live.”
He rested his forehead on hers, his face the most open and vulnerable she’d him other than when he first professed his love. She could give him this. “Okay,” she whispered. “I love you.”
Altair kissed her hard and fast. “Gods help me, but I love you too, astalle.” Just like that, it was time to go face their enemy. Iyana sent a quick prayer to Thelena that they would be triumphant.
The situation was pretty fucking dire.
Emmeric was on his knees in front of Emperor Uther, the older man outfitted in his royal best—including his cape with the astmina clasp. Iyana shuddered at the sight of it. The colossal statues of Elena and Imera framed the emperor, with a retinue of at least twenty men standing between them and the library doors.
And, oh, Emmeric.
Her Kanaliza’s face was a map of bruises, his right eye swollen almost completely shut, and his upper lip split and oozing. Blood saturated his tunic, but only a small amount speckled the snow in front of him. Iyana knew he would collapse on the ground instead of kneeling if it weren’t for Uther gripping his hair, yanking his head back to expose his vulnerable neck. Iyana’s heart hurt for him. As much as her body and the bond was begging her to run to him, to heal his wounds, staying put and wearing her unaffected mask would be the best plan for all of them. But Iyana noted every cut, every bruise and silently vowed to inflict the same pain upon Uther.
When Emmeric first spotted her, his good eye flashed bright blue, and she saw him scanning the rest of their group. He relaxed only marginally when he saw Altair was with her. Their ragtag group, as Zane had so aptly put it, walked towards the emperor—Iyana at the front, Zane to her right, Altair to her left, and Talon and Kaz protecting the rear flanks. Uther appraised them all, the briefest flicker of surprise at Zane’s involvement, but it was there and gone so fast Iyana could have told herself she’d imagined it. She was sure Zane noticed it as well. The emperor was taking stock of them, noting Iyana, Altair, and Kaz all did not carry weapons. Zane and Talon were the only ones wearing a sword at their side. She was certain he knew they also carried multiple hidden knives, plus Zane had a bow and quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.
“Iyana, my dear, how lovely to see you again,” Uther drawled in that haughty way of his. It made Iyana’s skin crawl.
