The Twelve Kingdoms: The Mark of the Tala (29 page)

I thought I’d reestablished the barrier, the outer echo of the dome beneath the sea that the crabs so diligently maintained. But I wouldn’t know for sure until I got there.

A thrice-damned way to test something so important.

“At least we got to see it, eh, Fiona? And we’ll tell them all it was full of untamed forests and wild beasts. Demons and black magic.”

I knew the tree spies saw me when I entered the woods and started up the pass. They kindly let me know, I felt sure, so loud were their chains of calls, echoing through the treetops. It took me all night, but I finally arrived at Rayfe’s camp at the lake right at daybreak. He was waiting for me, face stark in the harsh light of the rising sun.

My heart quailed, but my resolve didn’t. At least he wasn’t dead in the snow. Yet. He held up a hand to help me down, and I took it. He held on, pulling me very close to his armored chest, staring into my eyes without saying a thing.

“I figured out how to shift,” I told him, just as I’d been planning to last night when I came back to our rooms, so full of giddy joy. And he’d already been riding out to meet my family in battle. It came out sounding like an accusation.

A half smile lit his grim expression. “I never doubted you would.”

“I know. And yet you broke your promise to me.”

His smiled faded. “I know. I don’t know what to say to you.”

“You can apologize.”

“But I’m not sorry,” he explained. “I wish you’d stayed in Annfwn. This can’t turn out well.”

“It’s my story, too. Including the tragic ending.”

He cupped my face with his hands. “Does our ending have to be tragic? I could have been happy, knowing you were in Annfwn, caring for our people, enjoying your life. That you would maybe someday find your way to being queen and hold the land safe for me.”

“How would that have happened with the barrier down?”

He blanched. “Who told you?” Then he clenched his jaw. “My mother. Of course.”

“She only told me what you should have.”

“As if you needed more pressure!” he shot back. “I’d put you through enough. Learning to shift is amazing, but it’s not enough. You have to find the heart, and I don’t know where to tell you to begin to look. You’d think Salena would have mentioned
that
in her message.”

“She did.” I held up my hands and showed him the raw wounds where the crabs had tasted of my flesh, my blood. “It just took me a while to understand.”

In horror, he stroked a shaking finger over my skin, then stared into my eyes. “What happened—where did you get these wounds?”

“Family secret.” I grinned at him, profoundly feeling that sense of connection to my mother and the women before her. As if I’d finally come home. “But I found the heart and I restored the barrier. I hope.”

His dark-blue eyes lit with fierce joy, his shoulders straightening as if a great burden had been lifted from them.

“You did it,” he breathed. “I always knew it.”

“I don’t know how this ends.” I closed down the image of him, bleeding out in the snow. It would not happen. “I know that it should be with us together. My mother didn’t make the choices she did so I could hide away in paradise. Besides, I have to test the barrier. I have to go with you.”
Just in case.

“What shall I do with you, Andromeda, with all your insane and fierce certainty?”

“You could love me.” I offered it softly, with a wisp of delicate hope.

“I do, my queen. I love you beyond need or reason.” He kissed me then, pulling me in tight and slanting his hot mouth over mine, tasting of man and sleep and desire.

“I love you, too.” I grinned at him. “Now, where is breakfast?”

T
he battle—that final battle at Odfell’s Pass—took place the following morning. You all know what the minstrels tell of that day. What actually occurred is somewhat different, which should come as no surprise to any of you by now.

History is written by the victors, yes. But whoever tells their version to the most people has an advantage also.

We spent the day waiting, as I’ve learned soldiers spend most of their time doing. More and more Tala men joined us through the day, but the force still seemed pitifully small to me. No one else seemed to be coming through from the other side, which heartened me that the barrier might be working. Though I warned them that I hadn’t mastered the ways of the heart yet and they might not be able to come back through, they went when Rayfe sent them into winter again, in small groups, to hide themselves along the route. It moved me, their willingness to trust in the magic and to defend Annfwn.

And I fretted, wishing I’d had more time to study the wall. Rayfe wouldn’t let me go near it yet, not without the bulk of his force going with us.

Terin thought Ursula and Hugh would wait for Uorsin’s massive armies to arrive, and Rayfe agreed to abide by his judgment.

I knew he was wrong. Ursula is one of the finest strategists I’ve seen. She would see immediately that no one would be dragging the massed armies of the Twelve Kingdoms up the narrow pass. She had her Hawks. With Hugh’s picked men and her highly trained crew, she’d know they could take on at least three times their number, if not more.

More, she would want to please our father.

She would think to rescue me and bring me back to Ordnung in triumph. She had no idea Uorsin wanted Annfwn far more than he wanted me—unless he thought I’d be his ticket in. Had that been his plan all along, or had he simply wanted to best Salena in the end?

That didn’t matter now. What did was that Ursula would lead her Hawks up the pass to rescue me and Hugh would join her. Between his reckless bravery and her keen mind, they could make it at least to the barrier.

Which would hopefully hold.

“I want you to let me parley with Ursula,” I told Rayfe.

This time he listened. “No good can come of it.” But he sounded less certain.

“I’m asking you to trust me.”

He smiled and lifted my hand, kissing the back, and then my wounded palm. He opened his mouth to say something I never got to hear.

At that moment, word came of battle.

The wolfhound scout raced into our camp, snapped into human form, gasped out the message, and left as fast as he’d arrived. It galvanized them all. The quiet camp broke into a blizzard of activity, men becoming horses, wolves, panthers, and raptors, others in human shape still, weapons flashing.

As we neared the barrier—where it should be—the effects of its fall became apparent. Winter had poured in, freezing the grasses and flowers several lengths in. Fortunately, it looked to have been like a slow leak and not a bubble popping. I shivered, thinking of what could have happened, had it been that way, then I realized cold air still flowed in. An actual snowflake kissed my nose. The cold sting of it sent dread roiling through my gut. I grabbed Rayfe’s arm and he looked down at me, initially annoyed at the interruption, then his sharp gaze softened with concern. He caressed my cheek with a gloved finger.

“Don’t worry.”

“The wall isn’t right yet. It’s still leaking.”

“Can you work on it from here, now that you know?”

“Maybe. I’ll try.”

“You stay here and do that, then.” He fastened his cloak, and with the snowy pass behind him, he looked like he had in my visions.

“Don’t go. Please. I’m begging you not to go.”

“Andromeda, my love. I have to. I can’t send them to fight without me.”

I wanted to kick him. Him and his exaggerated sense of responsibility.

I knew then there was no stopping this. The arousal in his gaze was for the fight as much as anything. This was also him. The relaxed man enjoying the wine and the tropical breeze. The fierce warrior spoiling to take out his enemies.

I’ll understand if you can’t stomach this side of me.

I stood on tiptoe and wound my arms behind his neck, kissing him with all the hopeful longing that swirled inside me.

“Then I’m going with you. No.” I held up a hand to stop his words. “If you try to stop me, I’ll just follow again. Better to keep me with you.”

Instead of arguing, he kissed me, holding me tightly. “You are always with me, Andromeda, whether you know it or not.”

Terin cleared his throat behind us. Rayfe squeezed my waist and gave me a little scoot toward Fiona. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but I sent a fierce prayer to Moranu to safeguard him.

We rode fast, galloping at a precarious pace to the bend Terin had picked to make an initial stand. I remembered the spot from the ride up, the huge boulders, the narrow opening.

Hugh and Ursula were ascending with a point formation, well shielded with spears and swords. They’d been taking out the Tala along the way with poisoned arrows—man and animal alike. I tried not to picture their broken bodies littering the pretty forested path. Instead, riding at Rayfe’s left side, I concentrated on seeing him live through the day.

The snow grew deeper as we descended, making the way treacherous and slick. The cold ate its way into my bones, my blood already thinned by Annfwn’s gentle warmth. The sight of the snow piling ever higher into drifts ate into my hopefulness. I wished I hadn’t so carelessly referred to tragic endings.

I couldn’t bear to think of what would become of me. I knew one thing: I would not spend the rest of my life sitting next to an empty chair.

When we passed through the barrier, in my mind, the crabs scuttled, using my blood magic to reinforce the shield. I wanted it to be as strong as possible, keeping the world out. For now. It crackled like a live thing against my skin, and I fancied I smelled emerald and heard sugared berries.

We heard them coming. The clatter of metal, the hoarse cries of pain and death, harsh sounds in the snow-muffled woods. Rayfe spread the troops around us, many shifting to take positions in the high rocks and tall trees. He positioned himself in the center of the trail, just this side of the densest guard, and tucked me behind him.

We waited.

Snow fell on Rayfe’s hair, turning the black to ash. I held his long dagger in my hand, my fingers growing numb, my heart icing over with resolve.

The crashing approach grew louder, a cacophony that shredded my nerves, until I wanted to shriek at them to stop.

They did.

At this spot, they would have to come nearly single file around the corner. A narrow passage bristling with the spears and swords of the Tala holding it.

Silence fell, more deafening than the noise.

Rayfe rode forward. I followed. No one stopped me.

“Turn back,” Rayfe commanded in a shout. I couldn’t see past his wide cloaked shoulders. “Though I count you as family now, you trespass uninvited here.”

“I demand the return of my sister, Princess Andi.” Ursula’s voice sliced through the cold air like the taste of metal. “Or I seek revenge, if you cannot show me she is well.”

“Queen Andromeda is more than well. She flourishes. More than she did in that mossback tomb you call Ordnung.” Rayfe bit out the retort with surprising venom.

“Brave words from a kidnapper, blackmailer, and demon.” Hugh’s voice carried over the angry mutters of the men.

Oh, for Moranu’s sake. Squeezing Fiona with my knees, I urged her past Rayfe’s stallion, shouldering him aside. She’s a strong and wily little mare.

There, on the other side of the weapon-lined gauntlet, was Ursula. I caught my breath at the sight of her. The weeks had worn the last of any girlishness from her cheeks. Her steely eyes, full of worry, looked luminous in her carved face, her auburn hair pulled ruthlessly back—or cut short—under her helmet. She looked like the statue of Danu come to life. Like a goddess of vengeance.

“Here I am, Ursula. Prince Hugh. As you can see—I’m fine.”

Relief flooded Ursula’s face, and my heart cramped to see how she’d suffered. She’d truly feared for me.

“I do flourish here.” I tried to let her see my sincerity through the lacing of weapons separating us. “I’m happy.” I laid a hand over Rayfe’s, fisted on his thigh. “I love him.”

Ursula’s gaze flicked to Rayfe, scorn whittling the softer emotions from her face. “You’re not in love, Andi. You’ve been brainwashed. Not even Amelia would say something so foolish.”

Hugh stiffened at that, and I wondered at Ursula’s carelessness. Seething tension made her shoulders into high, sharp lines—I could see it from this distance—and her horse shifted restively beneath her.

“Believe me or not. It’s nevertheless true. And you have no business attacking my home and my people.”

Both of their faces blanked at that, she and Hugh seemingly unable to understand what I’d said to them. Rayfe loosened his fist slightly, just enough to squeeze the tips of my fingers.

“Andi.” Hugh gave me his best, most charming smile, as if to coax a child forward with a sweet. “Your home is here, on this side of the pass. Come home with us and we shall sort this all out.”

“If I do, will Uorsin withdraw his armies? Leave the Wild Lands and Annfwn in peace forever?”

Rayfe’s fingers crushed mine at that, but I didn’t wince. I spoke to Ursula and her alone. She met my gaze with a steady, steely glare, one I’d seen many times in the practice yard. This time, I wouldn’t back down from it. A subtle flick of her eyes, a bit down, a hint of shame. Oh, she knew what Uorsin wanted. What he’d always wanted.

Everything.

“We will establish a military presence on the pass.” She said it steadily, as if this wasn’t a declaration of war, speaking only to Rayfe. She’d dismissed me from the conversation. “I will accompany you into Annfwn to see for myself how my sister fares.”

“Impossible,” Rayfe returned. “Outsiders are not permitted. Andromeda speaks highly of you, Princess Ursula. But I wonder what kind of fool believes I’d allow you to hold this pass.”

Her fine lips twitched at that—amusement or irritation, I wasn’t sure.

“You and the Tala have no choice, Rayfe. We are family now. Your father-in-law expects concessions—and his due as your High King. In return you’ll receive the full protection of the Twelve Kingdoms.”

“Ursula! You cannot expect—” The words burst out of me, and she cut me off with a slashing gesture.

“You stay out of this, Andi. Your loyalty is already suspect, and since when do you care about politics? Either you come home with us or we come into Annfwn. Clearly you cannot take care of yourself, so I intend to do it for you.”

My cheeks blazed hot in the freezing air. The snow falling harder now, the chill moving from my bones to my blood. I never imagined she thought so little of me.

Hugh nudged his horse forward, holding up his hands, palm out, in peaceful nobility even as all the weapons pricked toward him, like an enraged porcupine.

“Amelia sends her love, Andi. Your rooms await at Windroven. She bids me tell you she’s with child and begs you to attend her at this time.”

The news thudded into my heart like a second arrow. Amelia having a baby. A child who would carry Tala blood. Salena’s blood. I risked a glance at Rayfe to find him watching me. With a barely perceptible nod, he told me we would have to address that. Yet another reason to survive this day.

“You must give Amelia my regrets. I cannot come to her at this time.” I watched Hugh’s face crease with incredulity. “I have responsibilities here—especially during this time of unrest.”

“After all we did for you?” Hugh’s face flushed to a dangerous red. “After I sacrificed my people for you, to protect you from this . . .
demon
?” He drew his sword, and it was like a harp string plucked hard and discordant. The tension ratcheted up, and time began to slip through my fingers like so much seawater.

“Stand down, Hugh!” Ursula ordered, a steel-edged shout that didn’t make the least impact on him.

“I won’t return to my beloved Amelia to tell her that not only is her sister wed to an oath breaker, but she has turned her back on Glorianna, her family, and her homeland! I’ll die first!”

Every moment is etched like shards of ice in my mind. The wild glint in Hugh’s noble blue eyes, the way his golden hair caught even the dim light. The bloodred flash of the rubies on his mirror-bright armor as he lunged forward, sword aimed at Rayfe’s unprotected breast.

Just as I had seen.

Only you can save me.

Fiona, smooth as silk beneath me, like an extension of myself, responded to my thought. She lunged forward, placing me between the point of Hugh’s sword and Rayfe. I heard him scream, part raptor cry, part wolf howl, a man pushed to the farthest edge of reason.

I’ll never forget the sound.

Or Ursula, with her perfect skill and speed, pivoting like a dancer on horseback and slicing Hugh’s throat from ear to ear.

Her blade stopped his forward momentum as it bit into his spine, yanking him back off the horse and into the snow. His astonished blue eyes, as blue as the summer sky he’d never see again, stared sightlessly upwards, while the snow stained crimson in an ever-widening circle.