Chapter 45

CHAPTER 45

ELODIE

Elodie fought to control her rage. Every time she thought everything might be all right again, something else happened, another disaster, another mess to clean up. At least Wren was here, and safe. Finnian had been with her. That had to be a good thing.

Except it didn't look that way. Something had happened with the Ilanthians. They wanted him to lead them, Wren had said. They wanted to take him back. Once, Elodie would have said it was the perfect solution, but now she was not so sure.

Leander stood there, defiant still, his magic contained but that was all. Leander, who had tried to imitate his uncle the last time he was here, when they had stupidly extended even a little trust. He had used his own blood to summon the Nox in the Sacrum to face the Aurum, leaving her burning and so blind and weakened Sassone had taken her without a struggle.

And every time she closed her eyes she could still see the earl's leering face, still feel the flames burning higher around her and the icy embrace of the shadow-wrought steel on her skin stealing away her defences.

Not anymore. Never again. That steel had to have come from somewhere and Ilanthus was the only place to produce it. The regents should never have agreed to allow the Ilanthians here to reopen their embassy, should never have invited them when they sued for peace.

They were not to be trusted. They could never be trusted. Not even Finnian. Not when it came down to it. He was still of the line of Sidon. He had slotted back in among them without a murmur and Hestia, as close to a high priestess as the Nox had, was already sinking her claws into him. And into Wren as well…Elodie really did not like that.

Making her way to the place where Prince Leander stood beside his cousin, Elodie glared at him, looking past the handsome arrogant face to the young man behind. She'd faced him in battle at the Seven Sisters, and defeated him. He wielded what little magic he had almost as well as he wielded the sword, except…

Except the magic of shades and darkness was gone from him, locked away by a bracelet similar to the metal which had bound her.

Elodie pulled back, wrinkling her nose with distaste. No one deserved that.

‘Oh believe me, your majesty, the feeling is mutual,' Leander muttered, instantly taking her reaction the wrong way.

So the arrogance was still there. Chastened, perhaps, a bit battered, but still so deeply ingrained in him it would never be completely gone. He used it to hide his fear, but she saw through him. He was deeply afraid right now.

‘Your own people took your magic from you?'

He lifted his chin defiantly. ‘Such as it was. I wasn't lying about being here to apologise. It was the only way I might be able to convince them to take this off.' He lifted his arm to show her the bracelet. It seethed with power, all his, she suspected. The light of the Aurum bounced off it, sliding away, and leaving the shadows clearly visible with othersight.

Elodie lifted her hand to it almost idly, even though everything in her wanted to recoil.

‘I wouldn't do that, your majesty,' Hestia warned.

‘Oh? You know more than me, do you?'

‘I know more about shadow-wrought steel and its properties. And what it does to you. To our kind.'

Elodie tilted her head to the side, looking at the witch. Not quite forty, more or less her own age and equal. Hestia's mind crackled with power. Among the Ilanthians she was formidable. If the Maidens of the Aurum had found her first, she would stand high among them by now. As high as Maryn perhaps. Or higher.

So much promise. Wasted in the darkness.

‘I don't hold with people being chained like this,' Elodie told her, ‘not even princes of Sidon. I've experienced it myself far too recently. Remember where you are this time, Leander. That is all I ask. No more attempts at a grand but pointless gesture.' She gestured towards the flames. ‘You have seen that the Aurum does not take well to betrayal. And my knights have lost all their patience, as have I.'

Elodie touched the bracelet and it came apart, falling into her other hand. The shiver that ran through her wasn't unexpected and it wasn't pleasant either. Shadow-wrought steel…A loathsome material. She passed the heavy bracelet to Finn who held it like it might burst into flames at any second. Wren took a step back from it, wary of its presence.

Good.

Leander rubbed his wrist absently, but then bowed deeply. ‘Majesty, I am in your debt.'

‘Remember it. At least it taught you some manners.' She deliberately left off any form of a title. He didn't deserve one. The Ilanthians were far too free with their shadow-wrought steel as a means of control. No wonder he had been driven to desperation. She turned on Lady Hestia, the architect of this particular situation. ‘I want answers and I want them now.'

Behind her Roland drew Nightbreaker. What she had said about patience was no lie. He had thought the Ilanthians had taken Wren when they found out she was missing. He would have razed their embassy to the ground had they not immediately relinquished her. Their entire country, perhaps. She knew the feeling.

The Aurum roared, the flames rising to meet her anger.

Elodie hesitated. All of them here – the heirs of Sidon, a high witch of the Sisterhood of the Nox, the Grandmaster, Wren and herself, all standing in the light of the Aurum…something felt off. As if they had been brought together by design. A group who should probably never be brought together…

‘If you please, majesty…' said a voice from the far side of the chamber.

A serving girl stood there. One of the girls who attended her and Wren. How had she even gained access to the chamber at a moment like this?

‘Carlotta?' Wren said, starting towards her, but the maid shied back from her.

‘Please, I…I must speak with the queen.' She stumbled forward, her eyes wide, pupils so dilated they filled her sockets with pools of darkness. Her body trembled, skin shivering, gleaming with a sheen of sweat as she struggled against something unnatural. It wasn't right, Elodie realised. There was something wrong with her, something crawling within her. She moved like a marionette. Otherness surrounded her, grey and nebulous, strands of light and dark magic twisted together in unnatural knots.

And Wren was still standing directly in front of her.

The maid stopped, and then reached out a shaking hand. ‘Please, princess,' she whispered. ‘Please move aside. You've been kind to me and I…I don't want…please…'

Wren reached for her and a long-honed instinct made Elodie react, ready to lash out with her power before the servant could touch her daughter. As the air crackled between them, she felt others respond as well, Hestia raising a shield around both her princes, Roland and his Paladins surging forward in response to her, and Wren…

Wren reached out to Carlotta, for the only real friend she had made here.

Tears streamed down the other young woman's face. It made her look much younger, no more than a child. A lost child. Her mouth moved. ‘She made me. I'm sorry, Wren. She made me.'

Her voice sounded ragged and desperate, broken, as if her own words were being forced out under great duress.

She was fighting a magical compulsion. Elodie could see the threads of magic woven around her. She was witchkind, young, vulnerable, compelled to do something against her nature and her will and fast losing that battle…and no one would be able to stop her in time.

Carlotta's fingers touched Wren's, a look of anguish on her features. She said something, something which made Wren's expression turn from confusion to horror. Wren tried to pull away, but it was too late.

Carlotta drew a knife, a long blade like a silver leaf reflecting the light of the Aurum, and pulled Wren against her, a hostage…or bait.

The princes of Sidon were here as well, along with a high priestess of the Nox.

And Wren was in mortal danger.

Finn threw himself towards her, heedless of the threat, desperate to stop the serving girl from hurting Wren. Because of course he did. What else could he do? But he wasn't alone.

Leander reached her first, nearer and faster to begin with, and Carlotta buried the knife up to its hilt in his guts. The prince staggered back in shock, so that the servant wrenched the knife free again. Blood spilled everywhere. The blood of Sidon.

Come, oh divine darkness and be made whole once again.

The shadows stirred, the Nox coalescing, and through Elodie, already on alert, the Aurum answered without hesitation.