Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(68)

In front of me, Ansel ducked, and another ball of purple hailstones sailed over his head and slammed into one of the wall tapestries, slicing it to shreds. Ansel cursed and veered away from it.

I glanced back over my shoulder. The Mortan magier was standing in the middle of the dining hall, magic now swirling in both her palms. Even from this distance, I could feel how strong she was. She easily had enough magic to kill all three of us at once.

My mother must have realized that too, because she shoved me forward. “Hurry, Evie! Get into the hallway! Now!”

Ansel disappeared into the hallway. Despite the stinging pain in my arm, I forced myself to move faster and follow him into the corridor. My mother rushed in behind me. She started to push me forward again, but I slipped around her, putting myself in between her and the magier.

“Evie! What are you doing?” she screamed.

But I didn’t have time to explain. Instead, I shoved my mother forward, even as I reached for my immunity, calling it up, up, up, just like she had taught me to. I imagined my immunity like a hard, strong gladiator’s shield covering my body—

The magier’s power hit the wall beside me and exploded with a thunderous roar. Her cold lightning blasted over me, but this time, I was ready for it, and I gritted my teeth and pushed back with my own immunity.

For a moment, I didn’t know which one of us would win—if I could shatter the magier’s power or if it would freeze me alive. But my plan worked, and her lightning and hailstones hit the invisible shield of my immunity, broke apart into brittle chunks, and dropped to the floor.

“Evie!” In a panic, my mother grabbed my injured arm this time. “Come on!”

I hissed with pain, but I didn’t stop her from pulling me along behind her.

Together, we followed Ansel down the hallway and into the kitchen. No one was fighting in here; the area was deserted, although several pots and pans were boiling over on the stoves.

Surprise flickered through me. Why was the kitchen empty? I would have thought that some of the servants would have been hiding in here. Or perhaps they had fled as soon as the fighting had started. Either way, no one was here to help us.

“This way! This way!” Ansel hissed.

He crossed the kitchen and opened one of the side doors. My mother followed him, still dragging me along behind her.

The three of us rushed outside into the cold, snowy, moonlit night. Ansel turned right. Keeping low, he hurried along the side of the manor house. My mother pushed me forward, and I fell in step behind my tutor.

Ansel never hesitated, not for a second, and he kept plowing forward. It was like he knew exactly where to go without even looking around to see where the assassins might be. Weird.

We quickly rounded the corner of the manor house and moved over to one of the barns. Ansel led us along the length of that building as well.

He stopped at the far corner and stabbed his finger at the trees in the distance. “The assassins are still in the manor house. We can escape through the woods.”

I frowned at the certainty in his voice. How did he know there were no assassins in the woods?

My mother stared at Ansel in confusion, as if she was wondering the same things I was.

For the first time, a bit of annoyance and impatience flickered across his handsome features. “Your husband is dead,” he hissed. “And you will be too if you don’t come with me.”

For a moment, the scent of my mother’s ashy heartbreak overpowered everything else, even the stench of my own cut and frozen skin. More tears streamed down her cheeks, and she glanced back at the manor house.

I followed her gaze. Even at this distance, I could still hear people yelling and screaming inside, and through the windows, I could still see our guards fighting and dying as the Mortans cut them down. Every once in a while, purple lightning would flash, followed by loud, crackling booms as the Mortan magier unleashed her power.

The manor house was lost, and everyone inside was going to be slaughtered.

My mother must have realized it too because she shuddered out a breath, then looked at Ansel again and nodded.

He smiled wide, and a strange light flared in his eyes, making them burn an even brighter violet. Then he grabbed my mother’s hand and dragged her off toward the woods.

My mother planted her feet in the snow and reached back for me. I rushed up beside her, and she threaded her fingers through mine and pulled me toward the woods . . .





For a moment, I could still feel the warmth of my mother’s fingers against mine, still see the fear and panic in her eyes, still smell her ashy heartbreak.

My hand twitched, but my palm slid over silk sheets instead of her skin. My eyes popped open, and my gaze cut left and right. It took me a moment to recognize my surroundings and realize that I was in bed in the guest chambers at Glitnir.

I shuddered out a relieved breath. For several seconds, I lay there, just breathing in and out, trying to slow my racing heart and mentally shake off my nightmarish memory—

A soft creak sounded. Someone was in the room.

Panic filled me, but then I breathed in, and a familiar scent filled my nose—cold vanilla mixed with a hint of spice.

Sullivan was here.





Chapter Fifteen


I sat up, my heart picking up speed again.

Sullivan was sitting in a chair close to the fireplace, with his legs stretched out on a low ottoman. His sword was laid across his lap, and he had arranged the chair and ottoman so that he was in between my bed and whoever might come through the closed doors.