Blinding Beauty (48 page)

Isa’s stomach twisted violently
when he held out the “talisman.” Instead of a gift to ward off
strange magic, as they must have been told, it was a simple
hairpin, decorated only with a thin, discolored rose made of
painted wood. It was Gigi’s.

Anger burned within Isa, and she
felt Ever watching her curiously, no doubt sensing the sudden
change within her mood. She could feel the fire burning in her
eyes, as thin as it might still be. The soldiers might not know
what pawns they were being played for in this game, but Bronkendol
surely did.

“
Take us.” Isa had never issued a
command with such authority. She focused so hard on the soldier’s
face that he began to look uncomfortable. Ever said nothing else,
handing over his sword once and for all. Isa felt another set of
hands take her own sword from her, but she didn’t care. Soon they
would be back at the Fortress, where it now seemed as though the
enchanter was waiting for them. And soon, he would be
sorry.

CHAPTER
FORTY-EIGHT

Dungeon

Although
she was perfectly aware that the soldiers were under Bronkendol’s
influence, Isa hoped the hard desert floor hurt their feet through
their boots. Before they had left for Cobren, Isa had been planning
on ordering the royal cobblers to craft boots with thicker soles
for the foot soldiers, but now she was glad she’d never found the
time.

At least they had allowed her to
ride her horse. Her hands were bound, but it was still better than
walking. Isa never would have made it through the night had they
forced her to walk the whole way. Their captors seemed to be in a
hurry, as they only ever stopped long enough for the horses to
rest, then they were off again, riding all through the night. Isa’s
own muscles ached whenever she thought of how hard they were
pushing Ever. He was not allowed to ride his horse. She’d overheard
some arguments between the men themselves about this. One, with
hair the color of the desert they now traversed, never lost his
worried look.

“
If we push that one too hard, His
Holiness will be angry with us.”

“
We cannot risk his escape.”
Another man with a large nose shook his head. “He might be an
impostor, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t powerful. His Holiness
said the forests would be ripe with wizards trying to take King
Everard’s place.” And so, Ever walked.

Isa glanced back to Ever again to
see how he was faring. They wouldn’t allow him to come any closer
to her than thirty pace’s’ difference. They were a rather strange
sight, with two soldiers riding alongside Isa and her horse in the
front, and eight soldiers on their mounts as they surrounded Ever
in the back. After seeing her change of countenance back in the
forest, Ever had allowed them to tie and hold him with four
different ropes, but the look on his face had told her just how
difficult the submission had been.

Still, he walked proudly with his
head held high. Isa knew him well enough, however, to recognize the
exhaustion on his face. Even Ever had a breaking point. She just
prayed he could last a little while longer before reaching
it.

The desert seemed to stretch on
forever. This was the valley, Ever had once told her, where the
Tumenians’ late princess, Nevina, had killed his father, King
Rodrigue. Their party had reached it a few hours after leaving the
forest.

Isa couldn’t remember the distance
feeling nearly so long when she’d ridden after Ever towards the
Glass Castle. Dry, powerful winds bounced down the bare, crusty
cliffs above and rushing down into the arid valley below, covering
them with dust.

Just then, Isa spotted the main
road that led back to Soudain. Hope swelled, as she realized they
might meet someone she knew on the path, someone who might be able
to find Garin, or her parents, at the very least. Rather than
heading towards the main road, the soldiers turned while still in
the valley. They led her horse to a sandy slope, where a path
barely visible hugged the steep incline. It was their own mountain,
but Isa couldn’t see the Fortress from the north side, or its wide,
pristine fields and gardens. Why were they going up the mountain
this way?

The slope eventually grew so steep
that Isa could feel her horse straining beneath her when they were
barely halfway up. Again, frustration and anger warred within her.
She had never forced her animal to take such difficult terrain. She
made sure to whisper encouragements to him, and eventually talked
her guards into letting her walk beside the animal instead. That
helped, but by the time they were nearing the top of the slope,
foam began to appear on the animal’s silken coat.

When the path split, one side
going right and one left, Isa stopped her horse and refused to go
further. “I do not know what your holy man has told you,” she
snapped at the guard nearest her, “but you are going to ruin my
horse if you don’t allow him to rest.”

“
We’re nearly there.” The guard
with the sandy hair pointed and gave her a shove as they turned up
the left path.

“
What is this?”

The three of them turned as Ever
shouted from below, where he and his entourage still hiked the
trail.

“
You’re taking us straight to the
dungeons?”

Isa’s breath hitched. She had
never been to the dungeons. Not even a part of the Fortress itself,
a distant ancestor of Ever’s had thought it necessary to hide the
prisoners where no loyal friends or hired swords would know how to
find them. She’d asked about visiting once, but Ever had said there
was no reason to make herself uncomfortable. Now, she was to be
held there.

Isa’s soldiers urged her along the
top of the cliff until they came to the most out of place door Isa
had ever seen. It was hardly visible, carved into the side of the
mountain itself, little roots and grasses sticking out of the wood
where soil had gathered in its cracks. One of the soldiers gave
four sharp raps upon the door. It opened from the inside with a
creak, and Isa was assaulted by the stench of stale air and soured
dirt.

She leaned into her horse and
wrapped her arms around his neck. Never had she seen such blackness
as that which was down that hole of a hall. Just higher than Ever
was tall, and wide enough for three to pass through at the same
time, the hole belched forth its wretched stench as though a wind
carried it from the dungeon’s belly. I can’t go in there, she
silently screamed to the Fortress. It’s worse than You ever were,
even under the curse!

No saving grace appeared, as each
of the soldiers firmly took her by an arm and began to pull her
towards the hole.

“
No!” she shrieked, falling dead
weight as best she could while kicking her feet. “I can’t go in
there! I just can’t! Please!” But no matter how hard she fought,
she was no match for the men who held her. I need Your power! she
told the Fortress. But no power came, and with a little effort,
they were able to haul her inside.

A single weak torch hung on the
wall. The third man, who had opened the door, removed the torch and
walked before them as a guide. But the flame did little to
illuminate the inky blackness. Isa continued to trip over her own
feet as they led her further in.

After they’d been walking for some
time, she could hear Ever struggling behind her, but when she
turned to see if he was any more successful than she at her
attempted escape, it was impossible to see through the
dark.

Deeper and deeper they walked. The
air began to feel different, as though it were pressing in on her
from all sides. Panic sped her breathing, and it was all she could
do not to break out into hysterics. They seemed to be moving
upwards, though the incline was barely noticeable. She wasn’t
allowed to stop until the narrow passage opened up, and Isa could
feel that they were now standing in a room of some sort, though she
couldn’t see how large it was or any of its other details. In the
light of three more weak torches hung on the wall, she could make
out the silhouette of a man, powerfully built. As her eyes
adjusted, she realized the lines of his face were
familiar.

“
Acelet!” She nearly sobbed with
relief. Isa lunged forward and threw her arms around her husband’s
favorite general. He would set things straight.

But Acelet didn’t move a muscle.
He merely waited as the two guards fought to get her under control
again. Only then, after they’d pulled her back, did Isa see the
faint blue-violet glow from the edges of his eyes. Bronkendol had
gotten to him, too.

Without a word, he began walking.
Isa’s guards followed, dragging her with them. Isa could feel
resentment and hatred rolling off the general, and decided pleading
with him would do no good. Whatever the enchanter had convinced him
of, using her stolen power, she would not be able to turn his heart
as she was pulled along behind him.

The soft planks of wood they’d
walked upon since entering the cave gave way to metal. She could
feel it echo with each step as they moved her into another area
that was, again, too dark to see.

She wished so much for Ever’s
group to catch them. Earlier, she’d heard him put up a fight loud
enough to echo down the hall, there was complete silence now.
Either they’d moved him farther away, down another hall, or they
had found a way to silence him. That thought rattled Isa more than
anything else she had seen that day.

They came to a stop. “You will
take three steps forward.”

“
No.” She was shocked at her
audacity as the word left her lips. But whatever he had in store
couldn’t be good.

“
You will do it, or I will move
you myself.”

Isa glared into the darkness,
wishing he could see the anger in her eyes. In that moment, she
felt the slight heat of the blue fire glance her right foot. She
froze, hoping for it to flare to life. Nothing permanent stayed
though. It was almost as if the Fortress was telling her to trust.
To go. With a sigh, she made three slow steps forward.

On the last step, her boot touched
something soft, like cloth. As soon as both feet were down, the
floor dropped from beneath her, and Isa shrieked as she fell into
what felt like a giant sack. The cloth leapt up around her,
catching her in midair. Slowly, the sack was lowered deeper and
deeper. When Isa touched a hard surface, the sack twisted, and she
was dumped out onto the ground. Immediately, the sack was taken
right back up. Still on the ground, Isa stared up. In the distance,
she could barely make out the light of a torch as a slitted metal
cover was pushed over the opening of the hole she’d just been
lowered into.

As she stood, trying to study the
light above, Isa stumbled. When she tried to catch herself, she
quickly realized that the floor wasn’t even, and she tripped
forward into a hard metal wall. When she finally caught her
balance, Isa lowered herself to the ground again and began feeling
her way up.

As if being buried deep in the
mountain wasn’t bad enough, the cell itself had no level surface.
Even the ground was curved upwards, like a giant’s bowl with sides
that curved up all around her, narrowing as they moved to the top.
The metal reflected dimly at first in the light of the torch, but
that didn’t last long. Distant voices murmured unintelligible
words, but soon they disappeared, echoing footsteps carrying them
away. And as they went, so went the light.

CHAPTER
FORTY-NINE

Choosing a Loss

“
I am
sorry, Launce, but I am under strict orders to let Princess Olivia
rest.”

“
But it’s been two
days!”

Gigi reached out from the doorway
and patted his cheek affectionately. “I know. And you will see her
soon enough.” Her face grew somber then, as though she had just
remembered something. “You should use this time for mourning, you
know. You won’t have the proper time once the coronation takes
place.” As she spoke, her eyes welled suddenly with tears, and
Launce swallowed the frustration he needed to unleash.

“
You know he might not be dead
after all.” He lowered his voice. “We have no proof Ever actually
died.” Please, let her believe me, he prayed. If he could get even
one person to see sense, perhaps there was hope for them
yet.

Gigi brushed a silver curl from
her face and gave him a watery smile. “Always so hopeful. Do not
lose that once you become king.” And with that, she reached out and
squeezed his hand before retreating back into the room that was now
declared Olivia’s.

Launce stared at the closed door
for a long moment, wondering what kind of chaos would ensue if he
barged in and seized Olivia. He would drag her to the farthest
corner of the world, where they would settle as strawberry farmers,
never to be seen or heard from again. Before his dreams took him
too far, however, Launce gave a weak kick to the door, then turned
back to his own chambers.

Well, technically, they were the
king’s chambers, but no amount of gold could convince him to sleep
anywhere but in the corner, on the floor. Perhaps the many
connected rooms would afford him somewhere to plan, without someone
stumbling upon him and asking his opinion on the smoked boar, or
where else to house the hundreds of horses and carriages brought
along by the unexpected visitors that now filled the Fortress to
its fullest capacity.