City in Ruins (15 page)

“I had cousins who lived within this mountain,”
Lochlen revealed, his yellow-green gaze on the paths leading away
from the beach. “That line of dragons has long since died
out.”

I touched his arm. “How many lines are
left?”

He frowned. “Two besides the dragons in
Medeisia. Some hide in the mountains of Guarda, others near the
swamps of Dearn.”

“Guarda?” Reenah asked, surprised. “You’d never
know they were there. I’ve heard nothing in Guarda that suggests
the presence of dragons.”

Lochlen’s brow cocked. “The Guarda dragons are
a reclusive lot. It’s best you never find them.”

We’d come to the beach, the sun having moved
over the island until it hung high, beating down on the crowd
below.

It was then, as we were staring at the glassy
ocean, that I heard the trees.

“They come,”
they hissed.

Despite my distrust of the foreign foliage, I
glanced up at the frond-like plants lining the sands. “Who?” I
asked.

Lochlen’s head snapped up, his lips pulled back
to reveal his human teeth. The hair on the back of Oran’s back
stood on end.

“The princess,”
the trees answered.
“You must find the
princess!”

“Catriona,” I hissed. “Where is
she?”

Reenah watched us, her eyes wide.

The trees continued to whisper the same warning
over and over again, as if they’d decided they’d told me all I
needed to know.

“The princess is in good hands,” Reenah
protested. “Her guards are ruthless, and Gryphon would never let
anyone near her.”

“Not if he could help it,” I said. “We need to
find them.”

Oran jumped into the crowd, ignoring the
bystanders’ protests as he shoved his nose to the
ground.

“Come!” he called. “We’ll have to pick up their
scent.”

I followed, my gaze tracking his
movements.

Lochlen and Reenah stayed close
behind.

“I’ve got it!” Oran howled. He broke into a
run, and we broke into a run behind him.

Weaving through people, trees, shops, and
colorful foliage, Oran loped onto a sloping path. Shadows fell over
us, limbs of frond-like trees hanging over our heads. It shut out
the crowds.

My hand went to the arrows on my back, and I
drew one free. Bringing my bow forward, I strung it.

“Maybe we should go for help,” Reenah said, her
voice shaking.

“And risk the trail going cold?” Oran asked,
even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.

Ahead of us, voices trickled down the path,
angry yells followed by soft cries and satisfied
laughter.

Oran growled, and Lochlen stiffened.

“What is it?” I asked.

Lochlen glanced at me. “That, little one, is
the sound of a scorned mad woman.”

Dread filled my heart, turning the blood in my
veins to ice.

Chapter 19

The first thing I noticed as we crept toward
the rising voices was the blood. There was a trail of it leading
from the path we’d entered to a clearing flanked on one side by
trees and the other by a flowing creek. The sound of rushing water
mingled with the sounds of grief, anger, and fear.

“Why are you doing this?” Catriona’s terrified
voice asked.

There was a loud slap. Flesh connected with
flesh. Agonized screams rose above the trees, the sound startling
large exotic birds with brilliantly colored plumage.

“Please don’t do this!” Catriona
begged.

The screams that followed dug their way into my
soul, the sound like nothing I’d ever heard. There are cries in
battle and in death that stick with you, shrieks and bellows that
will forever haunt your dreams. Each of them are different. None
are ever the same.

This scream marked me, my heart a pool of
pain.

Shoving our way forcefully to the
edge of the clearing, we froze. My weapon was pulled, Lochlen was
prepped to transform, and Oran was baring his teeth, but none of it
mattered. Compared to the horror before us,
none
of it mattered.

There, in a forest clearing on the Isle of
Marr, Gabriella of Greemallia stood, her face a mask of gleeful
rage, her long, black hair falling over a loose blouse and tiered
skirt. She was surrounded by mercenaries, the men cruel-looking
warriors with no crest. They were cloaked in black, their loose
tunics hanging over leather breeches. They were laughing, their
fists holding fat purses full of clanking coins and jugs of
ale.

“Damn the wench!” one of the men cried. The
rest cackled in response.

On the ground, near the line of
trees, my brother sat slumped, his eyes closed and his hands tied
behind his back. By the swelling knot on his head and the gashes on
his person, he’d given them a good fight. His chest rose and fell,
his cheek pressed against the soil. Next to him were two brutally
mutilated guards, their bald heads and tattooed cheeks clearly
visible in the sunlight. Catriona’s
herrnos.
They’d been decapitated,
their heads on display on either side of my
brother
.
And yet,
despite the blood-filled grass, the headless bodies, and lifeless
eyes staring at us, it was the sight of the Henderonian princess
that made me gag. She was tied to the forest floor, a blooming red
stain over her swollen belly.

One look, and Reenah screamed.

Gabriella’s head rose, her insane gaze finding
ours.

“Finally!” she breathed, a smile curling her
lips. The mercenaries flanking her pulled their weapons, their
laughter chasing their stumbling figures. They’d had too much
ale.

“What are you doing, Gabriella?” I asked, my
voice cold.

Anger crossed her features. “You will address
me as Your Majesty, you poor idiotic fool!” She gestured at me, a
blood-tinged knife gripped in her hand, her knuckles white around
the handle. “Did Cadeyrn truly believe he could come here, so close
to my country, and not expect retaliation?” She shook her head.
“Diplomats talk! Spies!” she cried, her madness gripping her.
“There are spies everywhere!” She waved the knife. “There are so
many of us!”

My gaze fell to the Henderonian princess.
Catriona’s mouth was open, her gaze glassy. She wasn’t dead, but
she was in shock, her blood-soaked fingers covering her
stomach.

I glanced at Gabriella. “What do you want? Who
sent you?”

Maniacal laughter followed, her face full of
vengeful glee. “So many lies! There are so many of us! Did you know
that?” she whisper-yelled, as if she were imparting some great
secret to us. “Do you even know how deep this goes, infidel?” She
clapped her hands despite the knife. Blood welled up along her
palms. “Of course, you don’t!” She laughed harder. “We’ve been
tracking you, you know. We’ve hired killers at every port. You
can’t hide from us. You can’t hide because we are
everywhere.”

My mind raced. Gabriella was on the
Isle of Marr, her hatred stark and unforgiveable. Someone told her
where we were. Someone made sure
she’d
be the one to meet us, her
madness making her easy to manipulate. She’d been on the verge of
insanity in Sadeemia, but now her mind was gone. This was an
ambush, and we didn’t even know by whom.

“Are you working for New Hope?” I
asked.

She giggled. “How utterly silly of you to think
you have this figured out! How completely and utterly
silly!”

My gaze fell once more to Catriona. “Let me
help her,” I begged.

Gabriella’s brows rose, her gaze following mine
to the woman on the ground. “Oh, her!” She giggled. “It’s such a
sweet, beautiful thing, revenge. To think I never even cared about
this miserable twit.” She waved her knife at Catriona. “I didn’t
come for her, but it was just so tempting! If I couldn’t have him,
if I couldn’t bear his child, then why should she?”

A cold chill crept down my spine.

“Who did you come for, Gabriella?” I
asked.

She smiled, the gesture too wide. “You. The
person I work for wants you.”

Lochlen roared and Oran snarled. Smoke curled
toward the trees.

Gabriella’s face hardened. “Do you
think you intimidate me? Do you think I’m a fool?” She glanced at
the ground near Gryphon. “I had two
herrnos
killed! They are the most
highly trained warriors in the Nine Kingdoms, and they’re dead.
Dead! Do you think I came alone? There are mages in this wood.” She
glanced at the trees.

I frowned.

Gabriella noted my expression, and
she pouted. “Oh, did you really believe you couldn’t be foiled? You
may be the only mage who can
hear
sticks and leaves, but that doesn’t mean you can’t
be manipulated.” Her gaze encompassed all of us. “A mage can
control nature without being able to speak to it.”

She was right, of course. Mages had the power
to draw on the elements; on the earth, fire, water, and air. Even
if those elements didn’t speak to them, their power spoke to the
elements. The plant life on Marr hadn’t seemed right because I’d
never been speaking to the trees. A mage had silenced the forest.
I’d been speaking to a mage.

“Damned humans,” Oran snarled.

“And you dragon,” Gabriella continued, “I’ll
see you dead if you even attempt to transform.”

A heavy weight settled over my shoulders, a
deep awareness I couldn’t ignore. We could fight, and with Lochlen
we had a decent chance of winning even if we were heavily
outnumbered. Or we could find out, once and for all, who was behind
this.

“If I go with you willingly, will you release
them?” I asked, gesturing at my friends.

Gabriella grinned. “Of course. Who else would
get to share this beautiful news with Cadeyrn?”

My gaze narrowed, my eyes falling to Catriona.
“Let me help her,” I prompted. “Let me help her, and I’ll
go.”

Gabriella scowled. “Which is it, you fool? Your
friends or the princess?”

“Both,” I answered, my gaze unwavering. “I
won’t mess with the baby,” I promised. “Just let me help Catriona.
Your country already has a very shaky alliance with Henderonia.
Look at what you’ve done. Just by hurting the baby, you’ve declared
war. Kill their princess, and you’ll be crushed by all of the Nine
Kingdoms.”

“Fine!” Gabriella waved at me, a flash of
sanity in her eyes. “But hurry!”

Reenah protested, but Lochlen shushed her. We
knew what a royal, a princess with power and money, was capable of.
A mad ruler, we’d learned from experience, was even worse. A mad
ruler had nothing to lose. Right now, she had the upper hand. Our
only chance of getting out of this alive depended on me leaving
with her. I wasn’t just protecting myself anymore. There was the
possibility I was protecting my future.

Making my way cautiously across the clearing, I
fell to my knees next to the Hederonian princess, the blood on the
ground seeping into my breeches.

“Catriona,” I whispered.

Her glassy gaze flickered, her eyes swinging to
my face. Recognition flared, and she reached for me, her
blood-covered hands holding my wrists in a vice-like grip. She’d
been secured to the ground by her feet, her hands loose. By the
rope burns I saw on her arms, her hands had once been tied as well.
Which meant Gabriella had gotten some kind of sick satisfaction out
of watching Catriona try to save her baby.

“Do something!” she begged, her eyes full of
devastation. “I wanted freedom, but not this. I didn’t want this.”
She sobbed. “My baby!” I touched her, channeling the calm I knew
the forest could offer her. Her body shook. “My baby!”

Tears flooded my eyes, my burning palms
pressing against her belly, my healing powers aching to break free.
Below my fingers, I felt movement.

I froze, my gaze flicking to Gabriella. She
stared into the trees.

Leaning into Catriona, I whispered furiously,
“Cat, you’re going to need to be brave for me, okay?” She nodded,
and I leaned closer, my voice lowering. “I feel the
baby.”

She started.

“Keep crying,” I demanded. “Don’t let her know
anything has changed. I’m going to do what I can to help you, and
then I’m going to leave. If I can help it, you won’t lose this
child. Cadeyrn won’t lose another son.”

Catriona gripped me. “Please,” she
begged.

I clutched her stomach, my palms on fire.
Catriona screamed, tears sliding down her cheeks, her body shaking
uncontrollably. My touch wasn’t painful. She was listening to me,
playing a part to protect her unborn baby.

Beneath my hands, her wounds healed, her gashes
sealing shut. Somehow, whoever had stabbed the princess—and I
suspected this may be Gabriella—had managed to barely miss the baby
and the uterus. Cadeyrn and Catriona may not share a great love,
but I wasn’t going to let them lose this child. It meant too much
to both of their countries, and to them.