Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(56)



Zayne’s vision began to blur as the enchantment’s trance wove a numbing cocoon around them. Slowly, color faded to nothing but white. Haelan’s melodic chants and Addie’s hand clasped in his were all he could sense, all he could feel. It was as if they were floating, untethered to the earth. Suddenly, even Addie was gone. A chill washed over his palm, followed by a flash of fire.

He arched back, a guttural howl bursting from his lips. The fire tore up his arm, into his chest, out into each of his limbs. Unfamiliar images came at him in quick succession, of places and events he’d never before seen. He tried to look beyond them, reaching, reaching for Adelaide. He called to her, begged that she return to him, but she was gone.

The images spun by faster and faster, becoming a blur as they filled Zayne’s mind to bursting. A glow began to burn behind the images, building to the point of nearly blinding. Through squinted eyes he saw a single image, far off but steadily drawing closer.

It was Adelaide, standing in a flowing white sheath. She stopped before him, her crystalline eyes lit by an internal flame, and leaned forward to offer him a kiss. But as their parted lips met, his lungs filled with the coldest of air.

And then there was nothing.





Chapter 31





Queen Helena paced in her chambers, fretting over both Zayne’s extended absence and silence, as he had neither sent a response to her last scroll nor returned home. Though he often did his best to ignore requests issued by his father, their son rarely disobeyed her—a fact that brought Robert much ire. This night she gained a better understanding of the king’s past frustrations, for if this was but another act of rebellion, her son’s timing was quite poor.

“Is everything all right, Your Majesty?”

Helena paused to offer her handmaiden a forced smile. “Of course, Thomasina. Missing my Zayne, that is all. Tell me, have any scrolls arrived this morning?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Do please check the scroll room again, will you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The mouse of a girl turned with a sigh and left Helena to her thoughts once more. Perhaps Zayne’s extended absence was not the result of disobedience but for lack of knowledge. Could the scroll have not yet reached him?

She considered sending another or riding to Forath herself to ensure his safety. But no, her sister had warned her not to leave the castle. As had Berinon. Helena’s gaze shifted to the gray skies outside. Was a battle already underway in Forath? Had Zayne and dear Adelaide been trapped in the midst of it all?

A knock interrupted her fretting. Thomasina, returned from her latest task.

“Any word?”

“No, my queen.”

Helena resumed her pacing. Two warnings not to leave the castle. One which foretold of battles and prophecies that could not be stopped, the other of falsehoods that might be spoken.

Perhaps the warnings implied she could not leave alone. But if she were to travel with another, one who could ensure her safety above all else, would the warnings remain? And was she willing to request such help, knowing the cost this time might far exceed the price of the last?

The queen closed her eyes and prayed for strength. For what she was about to do would assuredly unleash the king’s wrath upon her. But she had to know their son was safe and yet alive.

“Fetch me a parchment and quill, Thomasina. I wish to pen a new message.”





Chapter 32





Tristan glanced toward the nearby sleeping couple from his perch upon a dusty pew, his sister’s alabaster face tucked possessively into Zayne’s warm chest. Her betrothed radiated with newfound energy upon their partial bonding. But Adelaide…

He shook his head and looked away. Addie had gone limp at the end of the ritual, losing consciousness and turning white as a ghost. Tristan tried not to think of the blood streaming from the gash in her palm inflicted by the ceremonial blade. Or how it had pooled on the floor beneath her arm, flowing faster than that issuing from Zayne’s mirrored cut.

Too much. She’d lost too much.

“Have faith, son of Jarin. Your sister shall live.”

Tristan threw a speculative look at Haelan, who stood a short distance from the others—as he had since his arrival. “And yet she looks pale as a specter hours after your ritual.”

“Do you not think your father would have my head if I took the life of his beloved daughter, boy?”

“Aye. Though what is to say he shall not already seek your demise for what has transpired here this day?”

Haelan’s eyes narrowed. “If he gains no knowledge of these events, we shall both live to see another day.”

“If she soon returns to her former self as promised, my word shall remain true.”

“I made no promise to return the princess to her former self.” A devious grin tugged at the man’s lips. “Only that she would indeed recover.”

With a growl, Tristan sprang from the pew, ready to choke the very life from their dark wizard. Quinn’s hands were quick to lock onto him, though, and slam him back to his seat.

“Ignore the wizard—he goads you, sire.”

“Aye, save your strength, boy,” said Brom. “We shall need it for the flight to Weston.”

Tristan shook free of Quinn’s grip and turned away. Damn them both. Neither understood the helplessness that plagued him today. Of his concern for the missing sister he knew so well and worry for the twin he hardly knew but who lay fading from life but a few paces away. For their father, consumed by a paranoia which seemed to grow with each passing day.

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