Broken Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 3) (9 page)

BOOK: Broken Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 3)
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30
Aaric

 

S
hades alive, but prison was boring. Aaric sat on the floor, his head down. His brain felt like it was going to explode from idleness. He couldn’t tell the time of day, but based on the amount of times the jail keeper had brought by meals, it had been four days. At least four days since Adaryn had been taken captive. He didn’t even begin to hope she was all right. Kingsley was a ruthless master. Adaryn would be subject to the full pain that the collar could inflict. And, if the whispered, scandalous rumors were true, that was the least humiliating part of it, for the women.

Aaric felt like his breath was restricted. The very idea of Kingsley having his way with Adaryn made him sick. White-hot rage washed over him, and he bowed his head, clenching his fists, trying to steady his breathing.

The sound of approaching footsteps made him look up curiously. He recognized the shuffling walk of the jailer, but it sounded quicker, keeping pace with the clack of another’s boots. He frowned when the footsteps stopped just outside his cell door, the key turning in the lock. Kingsley again? Come to gloat over him once more? Aaric set his jaw determinedly. He wasn’t going to show any emotion this time.

The cell door opened with a groan, and the jail keeper stumbled in, falling to the floor. A tall man stepped through the door after him. He had brown hair tied back in a tail, and brown eyes.

“Bran!” Aaric jumped to his feet, grinning ear to ear. “Shades alive, am I glad to see you.”

Bran pulled a long length of leather cord from his rucksack and began tying the jail keeper’s arms and legs. The man didn’t resist, stark horror in his eyes as he watched Bran like a hawk. Bran finished binding him and pushed the man into the far corner. He then turned and strode over to Aaric. Using the set of keys from the jailer Bran unlocked the shackle. Aaric rubbed his wrist, trying to ease some of the soreness. He studied the jailer. The man was backed into the corner as far as he could get, still watching Bran silently. “What did you do to him?” Aaric asked, puzzled, as they left the cell. The man looked truly terrified.

Bran smirked. “Nothing. I merely manipulated his vision so when he looks at me, he sees something else entirely.” He laughed. “This sky jewel is quite remarkable. It makes me so much stronger.”

“We need to get to Adaryn, Bran,” Aaric said seriously. “Kingsley has her.”

“I know.” Bran sounded frustrated. “But Grace told me to free you first.”

Aaric grunted with irritation. She would.

“I did scout the perimeter of Kingsley’s home,” Bran replied. “His place is overrun with magic set as security, plus armed men and watch dogs. It’s won’t be easy to get her out.”

“We’ll manage,” Aaric said, his brow furrowed. “We have to.” They were out of the cell now, walking down a hall and through a small side door. The chilly air of outdoors hit Aaric. He breathed deeply. He much preferred it to the dank, moldy smell of the cell.

“We need to go back to camp first, Aaric.”

“What?” Aaric stumbled in his shock. “Are you mad?”

“No, we need to come up with a plan.” Bran looked up at the sky. It was dusk, night falling fast. “Stay close, I’m going to work some magic to hide us before the gates are closed.”

“I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation, Bran,” Aaric said, but he stayed close. He saw shining threads crisscrossing around them in an intricate design for just a moment before they disappeared. He didn’t see any change in himself or Bran, but the nomad seemed satisfied so he didn’t question it. “Adaryn is enslaved to Kingsley. He’s probably torturing her right now.” The thought made Aaric grind his teeth. He turned, looking in the direction of the Kingsley mansion. “You can go back to camp, but I have to go to her.”

“Aaric, listen to me,” Bran’s voice was urgent. “You’re right, we need to help her, but we need to come up with a plan, first.”

Aaric shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving the city until Adaryn is with me.”

Bran threw up his hands in exasperation. “Where do we go, Aaric? Your old home? As soon as people realize you’ve escaped prison that’ll be the first place they’ll look.”

The sound of running footsteps sounded behind them, and they turned to see a couple of the prison guards in dark uniforms race past. “I don’t know how he did it,” one was saying to the other. “Let’s split up and search around before sounding the alarm. Wright can’t have gotten far.”

They didn’t even glance at Bran or Aaric, the magic held fast. The minute they’d turned a corner, however, Bran gripped Aaric’s arm in a tight hold. “We’re going now, Aaric. We’ll get her out as soon as we can.”

Aaric clenched his jaw in frustration, but followed Bran out of the city. I’ll be back soon, I swear it, Adaryn. Hang on.

31
Adaryn

 

I
lay on my back, tears streaming down my cheeks. Kingsley had mercifully released me from the pain. Temporary, I was sure. I was determined he wouldn’t break me, and refused to even acknowledge his presence whenever he entered the small room I was being kept.

He wasn’t anywhere to be seen now, and I wondered what plan he had up his sleeve. I heard the door open and looked over fearfully, afraid I would see him.

It was Ember. She closed the door softly behind her, and walked over to where I lay, sitting on the floor next to me. I glared balefully at her.

“Why?” I choked, fresh tears spilling from my eyes. I wiped them away angrily. “I trusted you. You had no collar. Why did you do it? Why didn’t you run?”

Ember sighed, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees. “I didn’t have a choice, Adaryn. Don’t you see? I never had a choice.”

“You caved,” I said. “You gave up. You had the choice to fight back and you quit. I’m still fighting.”

Ember smiled at me sadly. “You always were the fighter, Adaryn.” She shivered. “But Kingsley’s a hard master. He’ll break you.”

“I’ll die first.” It came out a whisper.

Ember shook her head. “Do you really think he’ll give you the chance? You’re just making this harder on yourself.” She was quiet a moment then went on. “I tried to fight back too. At first. I even tried to run away three times. The pain he inflicts with the collar is excruciating though.” She shivered again. “I thought it would never end. Eventually, I was happy to do whatever he wanted just to make it stop.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “He took the collar off right before we left the city. He told me to make you run away from the nomads.”

I nodded. She’d told me that Kingsley was there, to scare me off. It worked.

Ember continued. “He also knew that you would trust me if you saw me without a collar.” She wiped at her face, and I saw that she was crying too. “I didn’t want to collar you. I know how much you value your freedom, Adaryn. But I’ve learned long ago that you don’t say ‘no’ to him. Ever.”

“You should have gone to Bran,” I protested. “To the clan. Ember, that was your chance at freedom, you should have taken it.”

Ember was already shaking her head. “He’d claim me again. He’s said as much many times before.” She sounded exhausted. “I won’t be free until I die, Adaryn.”

I felt as if an icy hand clutched my heart. Was this really how I was to live out the remainder of my existence? To be an . . . object? A slave? I had been a slave to Aaric, once, but the comparison between the two men and their behavior toward me was night and day. I was still upset with Ember, but looking at her huddled, miserable form, I felt pity for her too. I couldn’t begin to comprehend the horror her life must have been for the past few years.

My jaw clenched. I wasn’t going to yield. I couldn’t. Kingsley would have to kill me. I thought of Aaric, and hoped he was all right.

A thought occurred to me, and my heart thudded painfully in my chest. Did Aaric die? Perhaps his wounds had been too much for him to bear. He had looked pretty bad when I last saw him.

“Ember . . .” I said, tentatively. “Did you hear if Aaric . . . died?”

Ember was so quiet I thought maybe she didn’t hear me. A moment later, though, she rose to her feet, smoothing her skirts. “Aaric is in prison, Adaryn.” Her voice sounded wooden. “You’ll never see him again.”

The world spun. I couldn’t breathe. Ember turned and left the room, leaving me alone. Aaric, in prison. Alone. Without his books and notes and ink to keep his mind busy. Prison for him would be the worst fate imaginable.

I covered my face with my hands and sobbed. My heart had broken.

The collar hummed, and the pain returned.

32
Aaric

 

T
he morning after Aaric’s escape, they were back in the nomad camp. Kenroc was sick with worry, sitting with Bran and Aaric, discussing plans.

“We go in there and kill them,” Kenroc said coldly. “All of them. This is the second time Adaryn’s been enslaved, not to mention the countless other nomads that have been captured. This needs to end—now.”

“I agree,” Bran nodded, but he hesitated, and Aaric knew he was thinking about Miss Grace.

Aaric put his plate of sausage and eggs aside; he had no appetite. “We can fight, but we’re not to start a war. We get in and get out.”

Kenroc turned to him, his blue eyes blazing. They were the exact color of Adaryn’s. “I thought that you, more than anyone, would understand. We have to get Adaryn back at all costs!”

“I do understand.” Aaric met Kenroc’s gaze levelly. “I want Adaryn back, and Kingsley to pay for whatever he’s done to her. But we can’t rush in there killing everyone in sight.” He smiled. “I have a better plan. What we need to do is end slavery, for good.”

Bran and Kenroc both stared at him. “How?” they asked in almost complete unison.

“I had time to do a lot of thinking while imprisoned. The collars and braces are powered by the energy we collect,” Aaric replied. “We store it in the Tower, where we also gather the power needed to make the collars work.”

Kenroc looked thoughtful. “From lythyum crystals.”

Aaric nodded eagerly. “Yes. We have several underground mines near Ruis, in fact it is why this city—”

“Was built here in the first place,” Bran finished. “But why does that matter? The Tower is massive. There’s no way we could destroy it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bran’s eyes widened with realization. “Drawing on the power from the sky jewel, I might be able to tear it down!”

Aaric shook his head. “You know what happens when a nomad tries to remove a collar. The jolt of energy you might send to the slaves in trying to destroy the Tower could kill them.” He steepled his fingers, brow creasing in thought. “We have to destroy it, no doubt about that, but it needs to be shut down, first.”

Kenroc narrowed his eyes. “From the inside?”

“Yes. If I can get access to the controls, I can shut it down, which will render the braces useless, and keep the collars from getting spikes of energy. Having my explosive devices go off afterward will prevent anyone from turning the controls back on.” He looked at the two nomads in turn. “The freed slaves will most likely need some direction and guidance once they realize they’ve been freed. You may want to consider having several nomads throughout the city to guide and help them escape. I will also need a massive distraction, preferably some distance away from the Tower, to draw the city guards away from me.”

Bran grinned ear to ear. “You can count on us. I will send word to the nearby clans. Together we will make a distraction they won’t be able to ignore.”

Aaric nodded. “Good. Adaryn comes first, though. After I free her, I will head to the Tower. Once I’ve shut down the controls, I will send her to find you, giving you the signal to fall back, and get your people to safety. During that time I will set up the explosives.”

“What about yourself?” Kenroc asked. “I haven’t seen these ‘explosives’ you speak of, but will they give you enough time to get out?”

Aaric nodded. “They won’t go off until I flip the switch that triggers them. It should be fine.” He looked at Bran. “How soon can you gather the other clans?”

“Give me three days.”

“You have one day, before I go for Adaryn.”

“Give me two days, then. There’s no way I can get them gathered for battle in one.”

Aaric hesitated a moment. “Fine. But I expect you to attack the very morning after.”

As the morning progressed, the three of them discussed the details of their strategy. It sounded good. Lives would be lost, but with the sky jewel, the odds were at least even. Aaric clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. Kingsley would rue the day he’d ever set eyes on Adaryn.

33
Bran

 

T
he nomads stood on the plains, facing Ruis. The city loomed dark and forbidding on the horizon. Bran sat silently on Star. He had five hundred men with him, the most he was able to gather in just two, short days. It wasn’t a scratch on the population of Ruis, but then, the Oppressors didn’t have a sky jewel. If Aaric was successful in destroying the Tower, they would have their numbers doubled.

Of course, he had to remind himself, the nomad warriors were only to serve as a distraction. It looked like they were going to battle, but their real purpose was to distract the guards from Aaric’s mission, and to get the slaves out.

Kenroc rode up to him, surveying the men. “Will it be enough?” he asked quietly. His eyes creased with worry.

“It has to be.” Aaric hadn’t given them enough time to gather more men, but speed was essential. He held his hand up, and the low murmur of voices died off.

“Remember,” he shouted, using the magic to amplify his voice. “We’re to get in and get out. You’re to fight until I give the signal to leave. When you see it, go! Don’t continue battling. We want to return with as little loss to our people as possible. We’ve suffered enough.”

Men yelled and cheered their agreement. Bran urged Star forward. “For our people! For our families, and for our freedom!”

With a shout, the clansmen surged forward, galloping toward the city, hooves thundering across the plains.

As they drew closer to the city, Bran could see the guards scrambling to close the gates. He laughed aloud. The sky jewel’s power pulsed through his veins. Nothing could keep them out. Reaching through it, Bran pulled power from the sky and earth, from the very stones of Ruis itself. With a dull roar, the walls of the city crumbled. Nothing would stop them.

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