Sign of the Throne: Book One in the Solas Beir Trilogy (29 page)

Cassandra gestured for Jon to hurry over with Ciaran. Jon joined her, but put Ciaran down and helped him take his mother’s hand. Cassandra looked at Jon, puzzled.

“You and Riordan take the kids through first,” Jon insisted. “I’ll stay with the queen to make sure Abby and David get through. We’ll be right behind you.”

Cassandra understood. “Thank you, Jon.”

With Ciaran between them and their twins in their arms, Cassandra and Riordan passed through the viscous surface of the mirror to the promised safety o
n the other side. Cassandra gasped at the sight of the strong, stony-faced guards who greeted them with drawn swords. She relaxed, however, when the guards parted to let them through unharmed.

“The Solas Beir?” a man questioned. He seemed to be in charge. His dark brown eyes burned into Cassandra’s, demanding an answer.

“Yes,” Cassandra nodded. “He’s coming through next.”

The second the Buchans slipped through the glass, David
heard a loud roar and a crash. He whipped around to watch as Calder tore the remains of the two doors from their hinges and violently hurled them across the room toward the portal. Grabbing Abby, David pushed her flat on the ground, shielding her with his body. He felt the movement of air as one of the wooden doors soared over him, ruffling his hair.

The projectiles whizzed toward the mirror and would have destroyed the gateway to safety if not for Jon, who was in their path
and took the blow, knocking them off course. Jon managed to twist his body to the side and protect his head with his arms as he ducked. Had the doors hit him head-on, the wooden missiles might have clipped his throat, crushing his windpipe—or worse, decapitated him. Instead, the corner of a door collided with his upper arm. After impact, the doors clattered to the floor, just outside the semicircle, and Jon crumpled to the ground.

“Jon!” Abby screamed, reaching for him.

David let her go, and she crawled over to Jon. He felt a deep sense of guilt watching her futile efforts to help her friend. He was Calder’s target, not Jon. There was nothing they could do to help Jon here—they needed to cross into Cai Terenmare to heal him, and quickly, before something worse happened.

Jon groaned, his knees drawn to his chest in a fetal position. “I think it’s broken,” he said to Abby through clenched teeth. “The pain is shooting up and down my arm like fire.”

“Mother, I thought we would be protected!” David had to shout to be heard over Calder’s roaring.

The deadly beast had somehow escaped Lucia’s wrath, and was clearly hell-bent on revenge as it stalked into the room. Spying Jon curled up in pain, a smug grin spread across the monster’s muzzle, as though he were congratulating himself on the success of his aim.

“Yes, David, I know. I meant protection from
them
,” Eulalia said, pointing toward the Kruorumbrae, “
not
from flying debris. I am sorry, Jon. Can you stand?”

Jon nodded, cradling his arm. “Yes. It just hurts.”

“We’ll go through now,” David said, helping Jon to his feet.

Abby was horrified by the way the Kruorumbrae moved as one organism, rolling together in a fluid black wave. They had reached the edge of the circle, and still more of them were spilling into the room, piling into drifts around Calder, leaving a moat of space around his body so they did not become victims of his rage. It was a miracle they had not yet crossed the line—piled up as they were, it would not be long before they pushed forward, incinerating those unlucky enough to be
the first to cross.

Abby could sense that Jon’s physical pain was almost irrelevant now, overtaken by his terror of the Shad
ows pressing against the circular boundary, and of Calder stalking forward. She was terrified too, but her need to protect Jon and David dissipated the fear, transforming it into righteous anger.

As David helped Jon stand, Abby stared Calder down defiantly, ready for a fight, her fists clenched at her sides, her feet planted. The beast kept his blood red eyes on her and smiled wickedly, as if the two of them were privy to a joke no one else understood. Suddenly she got the punch line—the monster was coming for the Solas Beir, never mind the consequences of crossing the boundary. The imperfect circle would not protect David.

With that epiphany, time seemed to slow down. Abby saw Calder coming. Her eyes focused on the detail of his muscled legs as they folded into a crouch, then sprang upward as the beast launched himself over the Kruorumbrae, across the line burned into the floor, straight for David’s throat. Almost as if she were watching from a distance, Abby saw herself moving in response, spinning to place her palms flat against David’s chest, stiff-arming him as she pushed him through the portal, noting his look of complete shock as he fell backward through the mirror, then turning back and drawing the silver letter opener from her side like a sword. And then time sped forward, and the beast was on top of her.

David was falling. He felt a brief sucking sensation around his body as he passed through the portal, and then a sharp pain when he landed on his tailbone and skipped across a cold, hard floor like a stone over the surface of a lake. He was momentarily dazed as he took in his new surroundings—a dark, stone room lit with torches, soldiers standing around him with swords, and the Buchans huddled behind them, waiting anxiously.

The leader of the group held out his hand to help David up. The dark-haired man’s face was ruggedly handsome, and it was clear by the dignified way he carried himself that he had been proven in battle. His neck boasted a deep scar where it looked like something had taken a bite out of him. David guessed that whatever creature had attacked this man had not fared well.

“Welcome, Solas Beir.” The man pulled David to his feet. “I am Cael, and I am charged with the defense of your kingdom. Have no fear; you are safe now.”

David nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Cael. But I can’t stay—I have to go back for the others.”

Cael stepped in front of the portal
, and the guards surrounded David. “I am sorry,” Cael said, “but I must prevent you from doing that. Your safety is of utmost importance, Your Majesty.”

“You don’t understand. Something terrible has happened. If I don’t go back, they will die.” David was insistent, an edge of panic to his voice.

“The queen knows what she is doing,” Cael said. “She would willingly sacrifice her life for yours.”

“And Abby?” David asked.

“She knew the risks,” Cael said.

“No—I
can’t
lose her.” David pushed toward the portal, but the guards held him back.

“I am sorry, but what you ask is impossible,” Cael said.

Resigned, David stopped struggling; he could see the guards would not disobey their commander and let him go. He understood they were trying to protect him, but he couldn’t care less about his own safety. He was distraught—he simply could not lose Abby and his parents on the same day. If she died, he would lose his mind, and what use would he be as the Solas Beir then?

Eulalia could not see Abby anymore. The c’aislingaer’s body was eclipsed by the massive form of the beast, hidden and buried under his weight.

Although the creature lay limp and still, he seemed in remarkably good condition for having crossed the boundary, his body only singed and smoking, not aflame. But that could change. The longer he lay within the circle, the more likely it was that he would burn, combusting from within before the flames exploded outward. Anything in contact with his body was at risk to catch fire.

The Kruorumbrae seemed to understand this, and had voluntarily moved away from the circle, giving the fallen monster a wide berth. They were still hungry, however, and the sight of their comrade lying on the floor did nothing to silence their constant buzzing. They sounded like an angry hive of wasps.

Above the feverish din of the Kruorumbrae, Eulalia heard Jon shouting at her. “He’s crushing her! Help me!” He struggled in vain to lift the beast off Abby’s body, his face pinched with pain.

“Yes—stand back,” Eulalia instructed. She let the power flow from her hand, and Calder rose from the floor. She levitated his body back across the boundary. Turning him over, Eulalia set him down, lying on his back.

The silver letter opener was lodged deep in his gut. The beast coughed, and thick, black liquid bubbled to his lips and oozed from the wound in his abdomen, loosening the silver weapon.

Moving her hand in a swift downward motion, Eulalia used her power to shove the letter opener deeper, pinning the monster in place. Then she turned back to Abby.

Jon was cradling her in his arms. Abby’s body looked frail and broken, with deep, bleeding gashes raked across her stomach, sides, and back. This was where the beast’s claws had caused the most damage, first from enveloping her in a deadly hug, and then in trying to get away when her silver weapon was plunged in his belly. Her face was ashen.

“Oh, Abby,” Jon cried. “What have you done to yourself?”

Abby opened her eyes and searched Jon’s face. Eulalia was shocked at how the girl’s beautiful ocean eyes were a glazed, dirty grey. Abby closed her eyes and shuddered, struggling to breathe.

“No—don’t you dare. Abby!” Jon shouted, pulling her close to him. “Open your eyes—you have to stay with me. Abby!”

Abby’s eyes fluttered back open. What worried Eulalia most was the stain of black liquid around the wounds on the c’aislingaer’s stomach—no good could come from Abby being exposed to the creature’s blood. They had to hurry and immerse her in the pool of healing.

“Quickly, Jon,” Eulalia said. “We will lift her together and carry her through the portal. There is a chance we can still save her.”

Nodding, Jon carefully scooped Abby up in his arms, trying not to cause more damage. Eulalia saw him wince with pain, but he held Abby steady in spite of his own injury.

Eulalia
tried to use her power to ease the load for him, but she was so exhausted. She used to be so powerful; however, being away from her world for so long in her weakened state had drained her. Eulalia needed the pool of healing as well. She hadn’t even been strong enough to help Abby and David fix the portal—she had only been able to lend instruction and watch. It was their connection that was strong.

As Eulalia moved toward the portal, she caught a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye, a contrast to the writhing field of black goblins outside the circle’s edge. Lucia stood in the doorway, wearing a light silver gown. She nodded solemnly to Eulalia, making no move to prevent her escape. Eulalia returned the nod in acknowledgement of her sister’s presence, and then she and Jon took Abby through the portal.

David was waiting anxiously. As Jon and Eulalia carried Abby through, he feared the worst: she was gone. Then he heard the rough rattle of her breathing as she fought to stay alive. Jon seemed to be in great pain, and Eulalia looked weary. How did things go so wrong?

“Jon,” David said, “
give her to me. I’ll carry her.”

Jon shook his head angrily.

David suspected that some of Jon’s anger was directed his way, that Jon blamed him for what had happened to Abby. David blamed himself. If Abby had never gotten involved with him, if she hadn’t tried to save him, she wouldn’t be here in this mess, dying. It
was
his fault. And how was he supposed to live without her?

“Jon,” David repeated gently. “You’re injured. Please. Let me.”

Jon finally surrendered and placed Abby in David’s arms. He tenderly pulled her close.

“David,” Abby croaked, her lips dry. Calder’s black blood was smeared on her cheek in a long, ugly streak.

“Oh, Abby, why?” David cried. “
Why
did you do that?”

“Because,” she managed, “it was
you
. I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“Come,” Cael said. “We must get her to the pool of healing.”

The writhing sea of black parted in front of Lucia as she and Malden approached what was left of Calder. Black ichor continued to seep from his mouth and gaping wound. Eyes squeezed into slits in a mask of pain, he rasped, “You lied. All this time—you hid the boy right in front of our faces—you made us help you. Tierney will know of your treachery.”

Lucia knelt down near Calder’s ear, making certain he could hear her. “On the contrary, my friend. He will know of
your
insolence.
You
are the fool who cost us the throne. This is the last time you disobey me.” She retrieved the letter opener and turned to Malden. “Finish him,” she commanded coldly, turning her back on the beast.