From Darkness Won (49 page)

The rider tightened the reins, but the cham roared again and rolled. Achan winced. When the cham came back to all fours, the rider lay limp on the ground. The cham loped off, tossing its head and smoldering.

Achan turned his focus to the second cham. Its rider wielded a longsword, fighting one of Achan’s soldiers on the ground. The cham spat a stream of flames at another of Achan’s men. The soldier cowered behind his shield, then dropped it when the wood caught fire.

Achan looked into the bear’s mind and found the influencer. He easily pushed past the shields this time, but as he prepared to storm, the influencer lunged out of the cham, straight toward Achan. Just before impact, Achan recognized the man’s face. It was Khai Mageia, one of Esek’s guards.

Khai struck Achan, and the two tumbled head over heels through the air.

Didn’t you die?
Achan asked.
For I saw Vrell Sparrow stab you in the back.

Typical of that woman.
Khai gripped Achan’s throat and squeezed.
She betrays you as well, but you cannot see past her pretty face long enough to figure it out.

Achan pushed against Khai’s chin and dug at Khai’s fingers with his other hand.
What are you talking about?

Your mind may be stronger, orphan prince, but I know how to use mine better.

An invisible force shot Achan into the sky like an arrow. He passed through a cluster of clouds and did not slow. What if he couldn’t stop? He felt Shamayim’s pull and flailed his arms
a
nd legs, trying to control his movement, doing all he could to reduce his speed. He was being pulled in!

B
E STILL
.

The heat from Arman’s voice calmed him instantly. He shuddered, wanting to obey Arman, yet still needing to try and stop himself from moving. At this speed he would fly right over the Pearly Gate.
A little help?

C
ONCENTRATE
.

Achan closed his eyes. He could feel himself still flying, but he pictured the drawbridge and opened his eyes.

He hovered at the foot of the drawbridge.

Praise You, Arman! Thank You! Thank You!

But when he looked up, a black knight stood before him, a ball of green flame raised in one hand.

Achan barely had time to widen his eyes before the black knight hurled the ball. The thought to wake occurred to him, but before he could connect idea to action, Prince Oren appeared between him and the black knight.

The fireball struck Prince Oren,
and he vanished.

20

The dungeon guard slowed, hand on the sword at his waist. “What’s this?”

Averella’s pulse throbbed, but she was determined to seize the moment and play her role. She lifted her chin. “Guard, I require your assistance.”

The guard stopped. “What yeh doin’ down here, woman?”

Averella continued to walk as if this were her home. “I have come to see my brother. I am Lady Viola Livna, sister to Sir Rigil Barak of Zerah Rock. The man at the gate sent me down, told me to find a guard to let me in. I suppose you shall have to do.”

The guard’s eyebrows curved into two arcs. “Forgive me, m’lady. Course I’ll let yeh see yer brother.” He turned back the way he came. “I was just fixin’ to choose another prisoner t’execute. Good thing yeh caught me a-fore I did. Might-a
p
icked yer brother to feed to the tanniyn.” He chuckled, as if executing a man were all good fun. At the end of the corridor, he banged on a door. “Back up, yeh roaches. Back, I say!”

Shuffling carried out into the corridor. Grumbling.

The guard peeked through the bars on the door. “Ser Rye Jewel? Come forward.”

Averella glanced at Noam and Gren, who both had turned as pale as milk.

“Lady Averella?” Sir Rigil’s voice.

But when she raised onto her tiptoes and peeked through the barred window, she met a stranger’s face. Scruffy cheeks, oily hair, filthy clothes. “Sir Rigil! Is that you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Why are you here? Master Rennan said you were coming, but I could not believe it.”

Averella motioned to the guard. “Open this door.”

The guard snorted. “Woman, yer a loon if yeh think I’m gonna do that. Most those men are knights. And I thought yeh said yer name was Lady Viola. Why’d he just call yeh Lady Ava-whatever?”

“Only a nickname.” Averella batted her eyes and stepped up to the guard. “Is there no way I could persuade you?”

The guard scowled, though his ears turned pink. “None of that, now. Yeh can’t dally yer way past me.”

“My lady, please!” Sir Rigil called through the window.

Averella ran her fingers along the guard’s arm then tugged at the neckline of his tunic.

He stared down on her, his expression befuddled. “Now, I’d be glad to spend time with yeh, m’lady, but not so—”

In one motion, Averella executed a perfect leg sweep. Eyes bulging, the guard hit the floor hard. She stomped on his face, and he rolled away, groaning.

She picked up his sword and snagged the keys off his belt. Her voice was calm, though her fingers trembled. “Noam, see that he stays down.”

Noam regarded her as if she had just spoken Barthian. “Yes, my lady.”

“The black key!” Sir Rigil yelled through the bars. “The one with three prongs.”

Averella found the key and managed to twist it in the lock. The door swung open. Sir Rigil rushed out with Bran and two other men at his heels. Bran pushed Noam aside and dragged the dazed guard into the cell. Six more prisoners exited, including a giant with long braided hair, who had to hunch over to keep his head from hitting the ceiling.

The giant’s big brown eyes stared down like overripe plums. He smiled, revealing two rotten bottom teeth. “How are you, Vrell?”

A flood of memories burst through her mind at the sound of his voice. Him standing in Lord Orthrop’s study. Riding a horse behind his festrier. Averella perched in a tree while the giant wielded axes and fought off Eben giants. Him fastening a sword around her waist.

“Jax! Your name is Jax! I remember!” She threw her arm around his waist in a side hug but gagged at his strong body odor. No baths in prison.

“Well, I should hope so, my lady. I’d hate to hear you’d forgotten me so soon.”

She pulled back from their embrace. “Oh, I’ve forgotten everything. Though some has come back in flashes.”

Sir Rigil took the keys from Averella and locked the cell door. “My lady, we must go. Now. It will not be long before another guard patrols this corridor.” He handed the keys
t
o another prisoner. “Boten, free as many as you can. Take care.”

Bran glanced at Averella, then Gren, his face as red as ever. Averella knew it was not from sunburn this time.

She cleared her throat and turned her focus to the other soldiers. “Prince Gidon’s army attacks even now, weakening the stronghold from the outside. If you can get weapons, you can cripple it from the inside. Arman be with you all.”

Boten pulled keys off the ring and passed them to other soldiers. “Let’s do this as quickly and quietly as possible.”

Averella handed the sword to Sir Rigil, whom she believed was the highest ranking soldier present. He accepted the weapon and grinned. “After you, my lady.”

She lifted her skirt and ran back to the stairs. Halfway up, she met two guards coming down. Sir Rigil, Bran, and Jax surprised them and were able to take their weapons. They dragged the guards back to the third level and locked them in a cell. They took the stairs again, this time making it to the crack into the wall.

Averella found her lantern where she left it. She moved slowly, for Jax had a difficult time squeezing through the tunnel. She reached the boat and waited, holding the lantern up so that everyone could see as well as possible.

Gren reached her first, then Sir Rigil, who nodded to Gren. “Madam Hoff. Fancy meeting you in such a place.”

She curtsied. “Good day, Sir Rigil.”

Sir Rigil turned his gaze to Averella. “Master Rennan said you had two men with you. Where are they?”

“Master Fox is there,” she nodded to Noam, “and the battle separated us from Master Poe.”

“These are peasant men from Sitna, is that correct?”

“We were forced to be creative with our recruitment process, were we not, Gren?”

Gren mumbled, “Yes, my lady.”

Jax finally ducked out of the tunnel. He walked to the boat and inspected it.

“What I want to know,” Sir Rigil said, “is where in all Er’Rets you learned that move, my lady? When you took down that guard? It was very well done.”

A thrill coursed through her veins at Sir Rigil’s praise. “I cannot be certain, but I believe the real Prince Gidon taught me.”

Bran chuckled, his tone icy. “Well, that explains it. You always were an independent one. I’m not surprised you fell for a man who taught you to fight.”

“Master Rennan!” Sir Rigil scolded.

Fire kindled in Averella’s chest. “I do not know for certain that Prince Gidon taught me. I merely suspect he did. I cannot remember him, really. So I certainly have not
fallen for him
, as you accuse, Master Rennan.”

“I’m sorry you don’t remember, my lady,” Bran said. “But it’s true.”

She sputtered, angry that he was angry, but Sir Rigil took her arm and led her to the boat. “Lady Averella, you say the castle is under attack?”

“It had only just started before we came underground.” She set the lantern on the ground and stepped into the boat, gripping Sir Rigil’s hand to keep steady. “Once we are on our way, I will see where Master Poe is.”

“And where are we going?” Bran’s voice sent a chill over Averella as she settled onto the back bench. The familiarity of his tone both elated and angered her. She could not explain why.

Her only defense was to give Sir Rigil her answer. “We had planned to travel to Armonguard. We have two horses in the stables but traded our wagon for the boat. I covet your wise council, Sir Rigil, as to what our next move should be.”

“We’re better off in the boat,” Sir Rigil said, climbing into the craft. “Prince Oren says the road south is blocked.”

“I did not know you could bloodvoice, Sir Rigil.”

Sir Rigil sat on the bench beside Averella. “I cannot. But Prince Oren speaks with me when he has opportunity.”

“But your brother has the gift,” Averella said, thinking of Sir Eagan.

“Aye, but it came from Sir Eagan’s mother, Princess Alondria. My mother, Lady Zora, was from Jaelport.”

Averella wrinkled her nose.

Sir Rigil laughed. “I quite agree, my lady. But Lady Zora does not ascribe to the teachings of her mother and aunts. Since Lady Zora had no affinity for magic, her mother sent her to Nesos when she was a small girl. She was one of Queen Dara’s childhood companions.”

“Was she?” Averella said, guessing she probably knew this already but had forgotten. “How interesting.”