Curse of Shadows and Thorns: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 1)
Curse of Shadows and Thorns: Chapter 23

What came next was a blur.

For at least two heartbeats no one moved, stunned into horrified silence at the sight of Zyben soaking in his own blood on the dais. Then another scream came. It was close. I had a moment to wonder if it was my mother’s cry.

The sound was drowned by roars at the gates. From every direction Ravenspire patrols flung arrows, axes, and maces at darkly clad intruders. They scaled the gates like web spinners on their silken threads.

The next that I remember was a pair of sturdy arms pulling me away, toward the inner palace. Out of range. Out of sight. Legion held my hand in his, a blade in his other. Tor and Halvar flanked Mavie and Siv, and as a unit we darted into Castle Ravenspire as the hot reek of blood filled the night.

My knees buckled. Legion caught me before I fell.

I clung to his arm as he shoved through the heavy doors. “My parents!”

“They ran,” he said briskly.

“Legion, where do we go?” Tor asked, his tone an even keel, as though moments as this were where he thrived.

“Somewhere out of sight until we can figure our next steps. Move fast, stay low, stay in the shadows.”

Mavie crouched at once, her hands over her head. The corridors were packed with fleeing serfs, maids, and stewards. A few wayward nobles fumbled out of royal rooms, half-dressed, drunken, or well loved. Most in a daze. Until they listened to the roar of voices rising outside.

“All hail the dead king!”

“Death to false kings! Death to false queens!”

The sight of Ravenspire patrols, rushing into the fray with weapons at the ready, it didn’t take much thought to piece together what had happened. Soon the inner corridors racked in screams and terror the same as the lawns.

“This way,” Legion boomed, ushering us through a hall door. It would take us through a stairwell, into the sitting rooms. There we could cross into the banquet halls, down into the kitchens.

I suffocated my skirts in my grip, keeping close to Legion’s back. Much too late, the warrior in me sparked to life and I recalled the knife I now kept tucked on my leg. Lifting my gown indecently high, I ripped the blade from its sheath. My grip no longer trembling. There would be time to fear later.

Legion stared at me, then the knife, face as stone.

“I promised,” I said in a rough breath.

“You did.” He clutched my wrist above my blade. “Do not hesitate should you need to use it.”

We hurried down the cross hall and spilled into the wide stairwell. Windows lined the space, open to the night. Halvar demanded we get low, notched a dart in a tricky crossbow I’d not seen before, then gave us cover.

I breathed only once we descended the final stair. The main house shuddered in chaos. Whimpers of those attempting to hide beneath a chaise here, a table there. Brainlessly terrified people lunged through us, knocking Mavie to the ground. Legion hardly paused as he reached down and dragged her back to her feet.

He moved like a shadow. Slipping from one place to the next. Halvar and Tor moved much the same. If we lived through this, I told myself, I’d ask more details of his life in the gutters. Had he thieved? Joined a corner gang? Murdered? None of it mattered now, but my mind was spinning, desperate to grab onto anything outside this reality. The reality that the fortress of Timoran, that Castle Ravenspire was under attack.

“Stop!” Legion commanded all at once.

We obeyed and slammed our backs against the wall as he cautiously peered out a window overlooking the bloody courtyard.

Legion clicked his tongue and Tor responded. He was at his side. “They have the Agitators from the execution,” Tor reported. “They’re cheering, taking them to safety.”

“They’re Agitators,” Halvar snarled.

The obvious attackers. Vengeance for slaughtering their family camp, for taking their men.

A door burst open from another cross hall and a frantic woman tripped over her gowns. Her eyes lifted and found me. “Elise! Thank the gods. Elise!”

“Inez,” I said in a hushed whisper. The fool would draw their attention straight to us if she kept shouting.

“Elise,” she sobbed and rushed across the hallway, halting in the center of the window. “Oh, Elise! They’ve taken the north tower, the queen—”

Inez let out a gurgled moan. Mavie screamed and collapsed back against the wall. A dart much like Halvar’s had pierced Inez on the side of her skull. She wobbled on her feet. Then another black dart whizzed through open window, striking her in the shoulder.

She fell forward. Tor caught her and let her down gently.

Mavie wailed and hugged my neck. Inez’s lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling, blood staining her porcelain face. My blood turned to ice. I couldn’t take my eyes away. Inez, foolish Inez. We’d been crouched, hiding out of sight, and she’d just stood there. Panicked. An open target at the window.

A memory stirred. My chest squeezed painfully.

“Watch the window,” I said under my breath. Bleeding hells. Watch the window.

The witch girl’s omen to Inez. She was real, and if a window brought death for poor, stupid, and innocent Inez, then I had no idea what lay in store for me.

Trust the undeserving, was mine.

When I see the beast within . . .

One thing was certain, if I remained frozen and unmoving, then death would come here. “Get up, Mavie. We must go.”

“There,” Legion demanded, pointing to one of the empty rooms near the banquet hall. We obeyed and sprinted to the small room. Maps and books and desks were at each wall. The royal scribes would direct their missives here. It was abandoned, and not long ago by the smoke still flurrying from a hastily discarded herb roll.

Tor slammed the door at our backs, then with Halvar, barricaded the door with a desk.

“Away from the window,” Legion said, but what came next rattled me to my bones. Legion’s lips curled and he pointed at Siv. “Grab her.”

Siv tried to bolt away, but Halvar hooked his elbow around her shoulders and held her against his body. “Nah, nah, little one,” he crooned. “You’ll stay right close to us.”

“Legion!” I shouted, forgetting for a moment, we were under attack. “What are you doing?”

Either he did not hear me, or he ignored me. I watched in horror how Siv buckled beneath his glare, she shook her head, tears in her eyes as Legion grabbed a tuft of her hair. “Anything to confess before I cut out your eyes?”

This was not the man who whispered in my ear last night. A man with a gentle, loving touch. Red flashed in his eyes, hatred on his face. I grabbed his arm, pulling him away, but it did little good.

“P-Please,” Siv whimpered. “I knew n-n-nothing. I promise.”

“Stop!” Mavie cried.

“Legion!” I pounded on his shoulder. Once, three times. His sleek dagger was aimed at Siv’s throat. “Stop this! Stop!”

At last, he faced me, a wild rage in his eyes. “She’s an Agitator, Elise!”

He might as well have slapped me. My breath sucked out of my lungs, and I simply gaped like a fool. “What?” Real tears dripped down Siv’s cheeks. I shook my head. “No. She’s a serf—a maid. She’s . . . my friend.”

“Think well, Elise,” he snapped. “How long has she been with you?” Not quite a turn. I didn’t say it out loud. Legion didn’t wait anyway. “At age twenty, don’t you suppose she would’ve been a serf before now? She befriended you quickly, did she not?”

Siv reached for me. “Elise . . . I—”

“Not your turn to talk, lovely,” Halvar taunted and tightened his grip on her.

“There is no time to explain it all, Elise,” Legion went on. “But at the sparring night, the way she pinned Tor is an Agitator’s move. It is how they’re trained. Think of the attack, how the man had pinned you down. It was the same. We threatened her, learned the truth. She’d been planted at the manor to assassinate you.”

I was going to be sick. “No.”

A pathetic response, but it was all I could muster.

“Pick off the royals from the bottom up,” Tor said, his glare on Siv.

“Elise, I . . . I’m sorry,” Siv said through her tears. And that was all I needed. The truth. My friend the Agitator. “I changed . . . I got to know you. I left my clan, betrayed them, because we . . . we became friends. You must believe me.”

I took an unsteady step back. Mavie’s arms curled around me. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t peel my eyes from the honey golden gleam. Siverie. She’d defended me, worried for me. Secretly, she cared for Mattis, though she’d never admit it. She knew the blade . . . I coughed, clutching my neck. She knew the blade nearly as well as Legion.

Had I wanted friendship so desperately, I missed the signs?

“You were right, Siv,” I whispered. “I wish I had more people I could trust around me, too.”

Then, I left her to Legion. Betrayal a new knife in my heart.

“Who told you they’d come tonight?” Legion pressed.

“I’m telling the truth,” Siv cried. “I left my clan. I abandoned them. Out in the open like this, I will die should they find me. I gave up the plan months ago, as I told you at the bell tower.”

“You knew,” I whispered. “And left me alone with her.”

Legion glanced over his shoulder. “She knows what would’ve happened should she put a finger on you. I do not hold back on details.”

“Better to keep your enemies close, Kvinna,” Halvar said as if this were all a game.

Legion studied Siv’s face, but eventually sheathed his blade. “She comes with us. We might have use for her should we need to make a trade.”

“Agitators would not attack Castle Ravenspire,” Siv insisted as Halvar adjusted his grip to run with her in his hand. “You must believe me—something is amiss here.”

“I must believe nothing,” Legion said, but he tilted his head. “Nevertheless, we keep on our toes. We don’t know what is happening here tonight.”

“Do we go forward?” Tor said, but the tone came out with underlying meaning. Something the rest of us didn’t understand.

Legion shot his eyes to me, mouth tight. After a few somber moments, he nodded to Tor. “Yes. There is no better choice.”

I held tightly to Mavie who trembled and fought bravely not to cry.

“Right, then,” Halvar said. “Where is he?”

Legion dug into his tunic and removed the black, polished stone from around his neck. His thumb rubbed over the surface, and he peered at it. Like looking at a reflection. Nothing happened, and I wondered if the stone was a totem of sorts, something to help him think, until at last he said, “He’s made it to the kitchens. Hurry now, if we want to keep our heads, we’re running short on time.”

Legion allowed no time to question him before he guided us back into the corridors.

Screams rattled in my skull, though somewhere in my mind I knew they were dying. Steel against steel rang in the dark. A battle still raged, but hardly. It was ending. Someone, soon, would be victorious.

Had Ravenspire fallen? Had the Agitators overtaken the guards? In the terror of the night, it was hard to know.

Mavie clung to my skirts as we ran. Siv struggled to keep pace with Halvar. I thought she might be crying. I didn’t care. Yet I did all at once.

Fear burned for . . . everything.

My parents. Runa. As distant as we were, they were my family, and I did not want them to die. But they were clever. I had to believe they’d find a way to escape or fight back and survive.

“Elise,” Siv said.

“Hush,” Halvar demanded.

She ignored him. “Elise, you must listen to me. They cannot be trusted either. Something is strange about them, they—”

“I said hush.” Halvar paused long enough to grip Siv’s jaw and frighten her back into silence.

Mavie hiccupped at my side and took hold of my hand. “Eli,” she whispered, her voice small and raw. “I did not like you at first.”

I shot her a furtive glance, unsure where she was going with this. “I remember.”

Mavie had come to the manor when we were both around thirteen. She would serve me, then stick her tongue out when she thought I couldn’t see.

“But . . .” Mavie went on, gasping, “you are my friend. Believe that I am who I say. Titles do not matter. We are friends.”

Tears stung behind my eyes. Sweet Mavie. We ran for our lives, but she claimed the moment to remind me I was not truly alone, there remained some people I could trust.

We rounded the corner into the banquet hall. Legion went first, then wheeled back behind the wall. A knife had aimed for his heart. He let out a growl, then threw one back.

I lifted my blade, ready to fight those beyond the wall, but was knocked off balance when Mavie fell against me.

I caught her and saw.

In her stomach the knife aimed at Legion had burrowed deep. She let out a gasp, eyes wide with fear.

My stun robbed me of breath. “Mavs. Mavs!”

I shouted at nothing and everything. It drew Legion’s attention, then Tor. Siv sobbed and crumbled against Halvar who, for once, seemed unsure of what to do. Mavie’s eyes spun to me. I wrapped her in my arms and tumbled to the ground with her when her body went limp. Ragged breaths broke from her lungs. The smell of blood filled the corridor.

“El-Eli,” she whispered. “I d-d-don’t want to die.”

I hugged her head to my chest, my cheek on her brow, my tears in her hair. “No, you won’t. You won’t, Mavs.”

Legion kneeled on the side with the knife, inspected the place of it. His eyes lifted and said what I already knew. I shook my head, desperate to scream and rage.

“Elise . . .” he began.

“No!” I shook my head, angry at him for giving up. “No.”

In my arms, Mavie shuddered, her grip on my wrist went slack.

“Mavie,” I said when her breathing quieted. I shook her. Harder the longer I went unanswered. “Mavie! Wake up, Mavs!”

I kept saying it, over and over. No response came.

It never would.

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