Illusion: Book Four of the Grimoire Saga (37 page)

Braeden leaned forward. He crouched on the branch, ready to spring.

“Now!” Gavin roared.

The once-quiet canopy came alive. Hillsidians leapt from the trees, landing on Ayavelian soldiers with swords drawn. Any Ayavelian attacked in the first fifteen seconds didn’t stand a chance.

Evelyn’s horse reared, front hooves flailing at the air. Evelyn fell, landing on the dirt with a thump. Her head banged against the ground, and the horse took off. It trampled two Ayavelians in its escape, its feet smashing their bodies as it fled. Its two victims lay on the path, still as the corpses piling up around them.

Gavin jumped from the tree, and Braeden followed. Evelyn—about thirty yards’ distance—sat up, one hand holding the back of her head as her eyes darted around the melee. Gavin raced to her, and Braeden kept on the man’s heels.

Evelyn’s gaze shifted to Gavin and, a second later, to Braeden. Her eyes went wide. Braeden frowned. He didn’t know how this would end. She was a child queen, a girl who didn’t know how to lead. Evelyn’s decisions thus far proved she was nothing like Aurora, who wore the crown gracefully despite her flaws and mistakes. Evelyn, however, may have mistaken her newfound instant-healing and daru for immortality.

Braeden jumped over a fallen Ayavelian soldier while the melee grew around him. Stelians rushed in a second wave, yelling as they raced to aid their Hillsidian allies.

Only ten yards to Evelyn, now.

She scrambled backward on her hands and pushed herself to her feet. Her gown snagged on a loose branch, but she spun and raced into the trees, looking over her shoulder as she fled.

Braeden grimaced. Coward.

Gavin led the charge, following Evelyn into the woods.

“I’ve got her, Braeden. Stand back!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Not a chance!”

Gavin cursed. “Go!”

“She’s escaping.”

“Not in my forest.”

A shiver raced up Braeden’s spine at the king’s tone. Maybe Gavin could handle Evelyn himself after all, but Braeden didn’t want to chance it.

Evelyn’s white gown darted behind a tree not far off. She raced away from the screaming and fighting, skirts rippling. Her dress glowed like the moon they didn’t have tonight. Braeden shook his head. She made this too easy.

Gavin sprinted onward, gaining speed as he dove to take her down. He reached with both hands and grabbed her arms. She tripped. Together, they fell and rolled along the underbrush.

As the tumble ended, she shot an elbow into Gavin’s stomach. He huffed, apparently caught off guard by the force of the blow, but wrapped his arms around her tighter. She struggled, pulling at his grip. Her heels dug into the dirt as she wriggled. She clawed at his hands, leaving gouges across his arms. Green blood dripped from the streaks for a second or two before they healed.

Braeden almost laughed. The three of them, once forced to eat at dinners together on Aislynn’s peace missions, now fought outside the city where they all met. He sighed and lifted a blade to her neck.

Evelyn stilled, and Gavin’s eyes shifted to Braeden. Evelyn’s followed shortly thereafter.

“Look at the brave Stelian,” she muttered.

“Lower the sword,” Gavin said.

Braeden shook his head.

“What are you going to do? Kill me?” Evelyn asked with a laugh.

“If I have to.”

Please don’t make me,
he added in his head.

She smirked. “That will certainly make you the hero, wouldn’t it? The Stelian Blood who killed a disarmed girl.”

“Is that all you are? A girl?”

Her smiled faded into the glare of disgust he’d come to recognize as her default expression.

Gavin’s grip tightened around her arms. She flinched, her eyebrows flicking upward. She whimpered and tried to look at Gavin, but her head couldn’t turn that far. He twisted, shifting her body such that she had to look away. But Braeden could see him perfectly—the king’s face tensed as if he were trying not to cry.

“Why would you do this to my home?” he managed to ask.

She looked at the ground, but Braeden never removed the sword from her neck. The tip of the blade brushed her skin as she swallowed.

“You’re all lost,” she said, her voice a whisper.

“You’re the one who lost her way,” Braeden said.

She glowered at him. “You all listen to the Vagabond like she’s a god. You obey the drenowith. You’ve been manipulated and controlled. No one else saw it! Only me! I had no choice, Gavin. I’m sorry to hurt you, but this had to be done. I have to rebuild from the ashes.”

Her chin shifted toward Gavin, but she yet again couldn’t turn her head enough to catch his eye.

Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “This isn’t about you or me anymore, Gavin. We’re Bloods, now. We’re rulers. We have to protect our people. That’s why I did this. To do what it took to preserve those I’m responsible for.”

Gavin’s face contorted in anguish, and his grip tightened even more on Evelyn’s arms. She whimpered.

“You’re going to break her bones,” Braeden said, voice even. He didn’t care if it happened. She would heal. He merely thought Gavin should know.

“Braeden, leave,” Gavin said.

“Not a chance,” Braeden repeated.

Gavin cursed. “Please—”

“No.”

Evelyn looked Braeden over from head to toe, disgust creeping back onto her face. “I’ve always hated you, and for good reason. I know it was you who tortured Aislynn. Even as a child, you were evil. You still are. You can’t escape that.”

Braeden’s jaw tensed. “It was a mandate from my Blood. I couldn’t control it.”

“You enjoyed it,” she spat.

He shook his head, but it took all his effort to keep his face calm. The sword weighed on his hand, tempting him to allow the tip to fall away from Evelyn’s neck. Flashes of memory bubbled through his resolve: Aislynn screaming, begging for death; Braeden’s hands on Aislynn’s face; the queen’s eyes rolling back into her head; the veins beneath her skin running black with the curse he placed upon her; Carden patting his head, congratulating him on being a good son.

He shook his head and returned the blade to her neck. “You’re wrong.”

She laughed. “I’m not. You’re as vile as your father. But at least he could keep his end of a bargain.”

“Carden’s dead. I’m the Blood of the Stele now. Whatever bargain you made with him means nothing.”

Evelyn frowned. Braeden shifted his gaze to Gavin, who stared at the ground with his arms still clamped around Evelyn. She pulled at his grip, but he didn’t budge.

“Call off your army,” Braeden ordered.

“When you agree to uphold your end of your father’s bargain, I will.”

“I won’t.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Out of principle, I won’t uphold an agreement my father made. He was likely going to betray you anyway.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I knew him well enough to guess.”

“Enough! I’ve had enough,” Gavin said.

The Hillsidian Blood shot a blast of air at Braeden’s sword. It spun out of his hand and landed in the grass not far away. Gavin’s arms relaxed, and he released his hold on Evelyn. She jumped to her feet and rubbed her arms, backing away from them both.

Braeden cursed and retrieved his sword. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t hurt her,” Gavin said.

Braeden shook his head and looked at Evelyn, who tensed. She glanced from Braeden to Gavin, spun, and ran.

Braeden summoned the air into his hand and blunted the tip of the would-be arrow so it wouldn’t kill her. He aimed for the nape of her neck and released the blast of wind. Gavin tackled him. They rolled to the ground. Braeden punched the king in the face, knocking him to the dirt. He scrambled to his feet in time to see Evelyn arch her back and trip over a log. Her cheek hit the dirt. She lay on the soil, still as the dead leaves around her.

Braeden glared at Gavin, who rubbed his jaw and stared at the ground. He wouldn’t look up. Braeden crossed to Evelyn and picked her up in his arms. He would throw her in spikes the first chance he got, but for now, she would be carried to the palace like the little princess she was.

Braeden sat in the Hillsidian war room where Kara first met Gavin and Richard all those months ago. He seated himself at the far end of the table closest to the door, while Evelyn sat in the chair farthest from him, unconscious. Her head leaned over the back of the chair, her shackled hands in her lap. Two Hillsidian soldiers flanked her, while Remy and one of his Kirelm isen hunters flanked Braeden. He didn’t trust Gavin, not after the incident in the woods, and he would have his own guards—er, Kara’s—watch their new political prisoner as well.

Firelight flickered in the room’s wall sconces, filling the room with orange light that danced over his charcoal gray skin. He grinned. He was starting to like his natural form, but he still caught nervous glares from the Hillsidian guards from time to time. He sighed.

The dark night crept by outside. It had to be three in the morning. Braeden rubbed his eyes. At least they’d managed to get most of the Ayavelian army to surrender. Of course, he had no idea where Hillside would keep them. For now, they sat in houses under arrest, awaiting an answer as to what would happen next.

Braeden wondered as much himself. Kara had gone to get Bloods Frine and Aurora to help reach a verdict as to what to do with Evelyn. Hopefully, the siege on Ayavel had gone well enough for them to spare a few moments to meet with him. And Kara—he let out a slow breath. When she’d heard Evelyn was in captivity, she hadn’t reacted. Braeden hoped she could keep her calm around the Ayavelian Blood, especially considering the queen had murdered several of Kara’s own. His jaw tensed. He wasn’t quite ready to deal with the possible fallout of the women’s next encounter.

Gavin, on the other hand, was under the close eye of as many vagabonds as Kara could spare, both undercover and revealed. Braeden needed to know the Hillsidian Blood wouldn’t do anything stupid now that the love of his life was in well-deserved chains.

None of this was supposed to happen. He grimaced. He’d been Blood all along. He must have been awoken during his battle with the Sartori poison—it was the only logical option. Legend had it a Blood’s awakening was painful, so he would have known the moment he became Blood—unless he was unconscious or fighting another wave of pain from something else.

All the unnecessary death. The pain. The orphans. None of it had to happen. He rubbed his eyes.

Evelyn’s head rolled to her chest. She mumbled something, blinked, and winced. Her eyes widened, and she stared at her lap—likely at the shackles around her wrists. “What have you done?”

“Put you in your place,” he answered.

Her head rolled back again, and she grimaced. She reached for her head, flinching as her fingers found their way to her scalp. She massaged her temples, whimpering.

“They hurt, don’t they?” he asked.

She glared at him out of the corner of her eye but didn’t answer.

He continued. “Maybe you’ll think twice before using them on someone else, since now you know what it feels like.”

“What do you want, Braeden?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“I could go for a beer, actually.”

She huffed. “You won, all right? Are you happy? Do you want to gloat?”

“Not my thing.”

“Then what?”

“I want this to end,” he said.

She stared at him, eyes narrowing as if she didn’t understand.

He continued. “I want the hatred to end. The fighting. The locked doors and ‘attack on sight’ mentalities. We all live together in Ourea. We should act like it. I mean, look at Retrien. They’re nothing more than a legend now. And look at Ethos—almost nothing more than a myth. I wouldn’t believe they existed if not for the ruins. Is that what you want us to become? Nothing but a story?”

She pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair. Again, she didn’t answer.

Braeden stood. “You betrayed us, Evelyn. We can’t forget it. People died for your choice, and you must pay the price for their lives. Soon, Frine and Aurora will arrive. They, along with Kara, Gavin, and I, will decide what happens to you. I suggest you make an excellent case when the time comes. Be prepared to compromise.”