Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(64)

What if he was leading them into a trap? What if his “I’m not such a bad guy after all” talk yesterday had been an act?

Or maybe, thought her more sympathetic side, Quinn was simply eager to see his mother after all these years, or to retrieve Rosalind, or both. Though as he drew to an abrupt halt ahead of them and Addie and Zayne came to a stop beside him, she saw with surprise that neither of the other women looked at all pleased he had come. Nor did the beast of a man who stepped before Rosalind and a woman Addie knew with a single glance was Giselle.

The dark-haired, older version of Queen Helena glared at them, face flushed with anger and dark eyes throwing daggers their way. The man in a protective stance before her, though much broader with colorings more auburn than dark chocolate, shared some of the same facial features as the witch queen. The shape of his brow. The high cheekbones. And while the stranger was intimidating as hell in the flickering light of the sconces held high around them, Addie sensed something oddly familiar about him…

“Who dares enter this place without my permission?” roared Giselle.

“We mean you no harm,” said Quinn.

Rosalind stepped to her guard’s side. “Then why have you come?”

Really? She has to even ask? Addie fought the urge to march over and club her.

“To rescue you, my lady.” Quinn’s eyes glowed scarlet in the moonlight as they shifted from her to Giselle. “Release Princess Rosalind to us, and we shall leave without further harm to your men.”

“Release her?” Giselle tipped her head back and laughed. “Why, she was the one who sought me.”

Addie stepped closer to Zayne. Did Quinn’s own mother not recognize him?

“A convenient tale.” Queen Helena stepped forward, and a small group of Edana’s warriors quickly flanked her. “But a lie just the same. Enough, sister. Let the girl go.”

“I speak only the truth, dear Helena.” Giselle snapped her fingers, and puffs of smoke sprang up from the ground all around her, Rosalind, and their muscle-bound escort. In a blink, the three were flanked by at least a dozen armed warriors. “Far more than you this night, I imagine. How else did you escape from your lovely castle and playing the role of ever-obedient servant to your king?”

“Home is indeed where I would be, had you not used your trickery on Berinon the night prior.”

A wicked grin lit upon Giselle’s lips. “Jealous, are we?”

Zayne’s mother hissed in response to her sister’s prodding, and Addie suddenly realized the queen’s earlier reference to last night’s trickery went further than mere words. Much further. Did that kind of thing happen around here often, Addie wondered as she cast a quick glance at her fiancé. A violent shiver shook her.

God, I hope not.

“Rosalind, please,” said Quinn. “You must break free of their spell. This place…’tis not real.”

“Oh, I assure you, warrior, this is quite real. Is that not correct, eldest daughter of Jarin?” Giselle took something from Rosalind’s hand and held it out before her. “You of all people should know that.”

Addie squinted across the twenty or so yards of space separating them. And though on the fringe of lighting from their sconces, there was no mistaking the shiny, crinkled object in the witch’s hand:

An empty Cadbury candy bar wrapper.

“It…can’t be.”

She looked beyond the scowling trio, out across the endless view of wildflowers. Her gaze soon settled on the faint outline of an electrical tower far off in the distance. But weren’t wizards supposed to be the only ones who could open a portal between their worlds?

Overhead, a star in motion caught her attention. It moved slow and steady across the night sky, its light flickering as it went. Not a star, she now realized, but an airplane.

They were in her world, all of them. Was this it, then? Was this the last leg of her “thrice” journey?

“Adelaide?” said Zayne, unease pulsating around them.

Addie wrapped both arms around his waist and held tight, fearful they might become separated. She wouldn’t lose him, not again.

“Enough with your tricks, witch,” Haelan called from behind them. He stepped forward but quickly had his path blocked by Quinn, a look of warning upon his face. A look Haelan ignored as he continued to speak. “You play with magic beyond your control.”

“Beyond my control?” Giselle spread her arms wide. “Do you not see the view around you?”

“The prophecy was not yours to meddle with,” he hissed.

“Nor was it yours!” Giselle cried. The night’s mild breeze transformed into a biting wind, snapping wildflower stems around them in the growing gale. The witch’s hair whipped around her head like the snakes of Medusa. “You come into my home this night casting blame when it was your kind who set this whole affair into motion. Wizards who lay in wait all these years, hoping for its fulfillment. Wizards who sought to harness the foretold endless powers.”

Members of both groups were exchanging glances among themselves as though trying to make sense of Giselle’s words. But the wizards remained stoically in place, unfazed by her outburst. Haelan lifted a hand, and the wind died to nothing more than a gentle breeze once more.

“More lies,” he said, boredom dripping from each word.