Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(63)
“Robert warned me of this when he offered me passage to Weston,” his father spat. “You, aligning with the wizards to ensure no one could save my daughter.”
“Robert?”
The question in her voice spoke volumes. Clearly, Helena had not a clue that her own husband had been conspiring against her. Though, as she was here without him, so had she been conspiring against him.
“Your days as his queen are numbered, Helena. As are those with your head yet upon your shoulders.”
“Threaten not my mother, vile king.”
Rather than flinch from Zayne’s thunderous roar, Tristan watched in horror as a maniacal grin stretched wide across his father’s face. What had happened for him to act in such a way? His captive tugged at his arm, trying to wiggle free from his unfaltering hold.
“Father, please. Let the woman go. Rosalind is yet within our grasp if only we can work together to enter this place and save her.”
“Fallen under their spell too, have you, boy?” His father turned a venomous gaze upon him. “Always were the weak one of the family. So eager to please. Alas, there will be no pleasing me tonight, not after going behind my back to free my prisoner and stealing my first daughter.”
The woman his father held squeaked, his arm now far too snug against her throat. And in that moment, a feeling came upon Tristan he’d never experienced before. A commanding voice from deep within demanding he act. Demanding he rescue the fair maiden. Demanding he stand up to his father.
To that voice, he was helpless to refuse.
With a roar, Tristan charged forward, the wind whipping and whirling around him. He cared not about his father’s men, eyes wide with indecision as they stood their ground, nor the repercussions that would fall upon him for this traitorous act. In the last moment before beast took control of man, he turned and yelled to Quinn, “I’ll hold them off. Now go!”
Chapter 38
“And what do you think of this illusion, my dear?”
Rosalind stepped through the next door after Queen Giselle and scanned yet another set of new surroundings. Gone were the castle and grassy knoll, replaced by what appeared to be an endless sea of wildflowers. The blooms were awash in moonlight, swaying in gentle waves from a soft breeze. She turned and turned again, looking for a point of reference—a castle, a forest, a rock wall—but found none.
“I know not how you create such images, my queen, but the beauty in this place seems beyond what our world could possess.”
“Thank you, child,” said Giselle. “Jaxon, does this view please you as well?”
He bent to press a kiss to his mother’s cheek. “Aye. ’Tis your most beautiful illusion yet.”
The three of them started forward, their pace unhurried amid the calming scene.
“Do all your illusions reflect the time of day as these have this night?” Rosalind asked as she ran her hand over the waist-high blooms.
“No…would you rather it appear to be daytime?”
The queen’s voice lost its confident edge, and Rosalind wanted to kick herself. After all Giselle had done, the last thing she wished to do was insult her.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she said. “This place is perfect just as it appears. I cannot wait to return here in the morning, to see how vibrant the blooms are when bathed in sunlight.”
“Nor can I.” Giselle drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. A smile ghosted across her face, and Rosalind found herself curious to know more of the queen’s story. Where was her husband? Had he been killed fighting King Jarin’s decree of exile? If dead, why had she not married another?
The queen’s eyes suddenly reopened, and her gaze flashed to the door. “Come, let us adjourn to the parlor where we shall finalize our battle plans.”
“Must we go?” Rosalind stepped farther from the others, reluctant to leave just yet. “It is so very peaceful here. And quiet.”
Something amid the blossoms caught her eye. A scrap of parchment, perhaps? As she drew closer, its freed edge flapped upon the breeze. Indeed, it appeared to be parchment-like, but the color was all wrong—a brilliant gold even in the moonlight. And the odd script upon it was not in black but red. And purple?
Rosalind plucked it free from the flower’s stem and traced her fingers over its smooth yet crinkled surface. “Cadbury milk chocolate bar?” she read aloud, then held it up for the others to see. “Have you ever seen anything so unusual?”
The queen and her son exchanged the briefest of glances before Giselle stepped forward with her hand extended.
“Leave it, child. ’Tis but a part of the illusion.”
Shouts erupted behind her, and Rosalind spun to see a stream of people burst through the doorway. Jaxon moved to shield her and the queen from the oncoming mayhem, but not before she spied several familiar faces: Prince Zayne. Her wretched half sister.
And Quinn.
Addie held tight to Zayne’s hand as he stalked forward, with Brom following close behind. The trio had to hustle to keep up with Quinn, who, once they’d busted through the manor doors, had charged ahead like a man on a mission. In one smooth motion, he’d swiped a lit sconce from the inner hall and then angled for an open door ahead. Several more sconces were confiscated as Queen Helena, the wizards, and their band from Edana surged after him, helping to light the scene before them now. Unease washed over her as they stepped into the room, and Addie wished Quinn had approached with more caution.