Chapter 47

CHAPTER 47

WREN

Wren screamed as the light of the Aurum licked around her father like the white-hot flames of a forge. But Roland stood there, unmoved, holding his sword in front of him, legs braced against the onslaught.

‘Elodie,' Roland called again. ‘Elodie listen!'

Something flickered in the flood of power, in that blinding light, a candle flame in the inferno. Elodie seemed to hesitate, as if she recognised him. As if for a moment she might be herself again.

‘Now, Wren,' Finn said, and took her hand in his, ready to run as his guardian had ordered.

But she couldn't.

They were her family, Roland said, in every way that counted. Elodie had always been there for her. Always.

Wren couldn't abandon her now. She reached out with everything she had in her, light and dark, all her emotions and everything she ever owed to the woman who had saved her and raised her and taught her to be herself.

All her love.

But even as she did so, she knew she had made a terrible mistake.

Oh Elodie stopped. And Elodie stared. Her arms fell to her sides and her mouth moved, forming Wren's name.

And then something else, something dark and terrible, something twisted and barbed, rose out of the shadows in the corners of the room, grew from the gaps between the stones and dropped from the rafters on black-feathered wings of darkness. All of it focused on Elodie. All of it tearing through the pitiful remains of her defences.

She stood against it for a moment, her expression horrified, betrayed.

And then she fell.

The light of the Aurum flickered and died. Roland and the knights shuddered, and dropped like stones to the Sacrum floor.

Wren cried out her name and tried to run to Elodie. She had to reach her, had to help her.

Finn grabbed her and pulled her back, dragging her through the doorway to a small antechamber on the other side. Leander lay in the middle of the floor, still convulsing, holding his stomach, his face a mask of agony as he bled out.

The door slammed shut and Hestia barred it.

Suddenly everything went quiet. Far too quiet.

‘Let me go!' Wren yelled, and reached out for the shadows which clustered around her. They were the only weapon she had, the only way she could tear herself free.

‘Wren, listen to me, please,' Finn said. ‘You don't know what you're doing.'

Hadn't he seen what had happened back there? Hadn't he seen Elodie and Roland fall? There wasn't time for this. She had to go back. She had to help.

And if Finn wouldn't help her willingly…

What had Elodie said?

Use any means necessary. I don't care if you have to summon every shadow in the place to help you.

She had been talking about Wren escaping, of running away from Pelias if they tried to crown her. But if something had happened to Elodie that was exactly what would happen next.

Othertongue danced on Wren's lips, words of power and command, words which would bind Finn and make him obey her. She didn't think, didn't hesitate. She had to help Elodie. She had to put a stop to this nightmare, and he was standing in her way.

Finn shuddered and froze, a look of horror crossing his face as he realised what she was doing.

‘No,' he tried to say. He could barely force the word out.

The dark laughter that hung on the edge of her hearing flooded her mind and Wren embraced it. It made her strong, and drove away her fear and panic. She let the shadows fill her. She could do this, she could make him obey her. She could do whatever she wanted. The words of othertongue were there to be used. The glimmering strands of magic were easy to weave. She remembered Elodie using them on her. Remembered the humiliation, the anger…

She pushed that thought away. It didn't matter now. Only this. Only commanding Finn, and helping Elodie.

‘Wren, stop!' That was Hestia. ‘You don't want to do this to him.'

Her own voice pounded through her head as she replied. ‘What do you know about what I want to do? What do you care? No one cares.' Wren felt a flood of relief as she finally said it. No one cared. Not even Finn, not really. He was trying to tell her what to do as much as anyone else. No one cared about her but the thing that had created her, the thing now rushing into her and making her strong. Unstoppable.

And it felt good. Overwhelming, passionate, fulfilling, endlessly exhilarating. It raced along her veins like the crackling of lightning. She was strong and powerful. The magic was part of her and she was part of it. She heard the cry of triumph that the Nox roared, and realised that it came from her own throat. She threw back her head and let it loose. The Aurum was gone and the Nox rushed through her.

You make him help you. You command him.

That was what Elodie had told her. So she did. Wren bent her will around him.

Othertongue danced through the air between them and Finn's eyes turned jet black, the blue vanishing as his pupils grew huge, devouring all the colour of his irises. His mouth opened in shock and his body sagged but didn't fall because she held it. She held him.

He wavered on his feet and his face filled with that wild desire, endless and intoxicating. He leaned towards her and she kissed him. He returned the passion with everything he had in him. He was hers. All hers. Her Paladin, her champion, her lover and her servant. Her slave. The ferocity of the triumph coursing through her could have shaken the foundations of the world but she didn't care. He was hers and she was his. His beloved, his queen, his goddess.

He jerked back suddenly, as if on a string, his eyes still so wide and dark, endless. Abruptly, Finn dropped to his knees, his hand catching hold of hers. So simple a touch of submission and defeat. He lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, his breath a whisper against her skin. The gesture was courtly and gentle, not the action of the wildness which infected him at other times when her power filled him. It was almost tender. Almost apologetic. She tried to pull away, suddenly wary, unsure. Something was wrong.

But she was too late.

The bracelet snapped closed around her arm and the magic was cut off as if a blade had severed the connection. A blade made of shadow-wrought steel. The metal closed around her wrist, as cold as ice, and at the same time burning with thwarted rage.

‘I'm so sorry, Wren, my love,' he said, his voice his own, his eyes their familiar stormy blue. ‘Forgive me.'

Her borrowed strength fled and he caught her as she wilted against him.

Hestia staggered back a step, her face pale. She leaned against the wall, ready to collapse, and wound back traces of her magic, of tendrils of shadows with which she had wrapped Finn. Hestia had protected him, Wren realised. She'd countered the spell and given him the time to snap that cursed bracelet around Wren's wrist, cutting her off from the power of the Nox. Wren grabbed it, trying to tug it free, but it clung to her skin, hot and cold at the same time. Beneath it the magic surged and coiled like eels beneath her flesh.

‘What…what did you do?'

There were tears in Finn's eyes. She could see them glistening there, but something else as well. A hardness like diamonds.

‘What I had to do. To stop you. I couldn't let the Nox have you. I won't. Ever.'

‘But… but Finn…'

The confusion and betrayal stole her voice. There had to be a way out of this. She struggled free of him and fell onto the hard ground, her strength gone. Finn rose to his feet, towering over her, and he didn't look like her Finn anymore. His face was cold, hard.

The face of a Knight of the Aurum, the face of a prince of Ilanthus.

What had she done?