The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(82)
Aerity couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her hands were trembling violently when she reached the pulley. The ropes were thick, but frayed by time.
“He allows his people to treat its Lashed with disdain,” Rozaria said. “With injustice, worse than rubbish.”
Wyneth breathed in loudly. “All of the kingdoms are like that. I know, that doesn’t make it right—”
“Not all kingdoms, royal girl. Kalor has improved on its own. Naturally. Our people understand the benefits of Lashed. Over time, many villages began to allow magic for healing. Prince Kalieno knows our worth. Though he dared not share his views with other kingdoms, he has lifted the ban on magic already, but he is swift to punish those who use it wrongly. He is a smart man. He has done well to rule while his father ails.”
At this, Aerity paused. Could it be true? Lashed were free to work magic in Kalor? Aerity fumbled for the rope, careful to keep her weight on the beam as she leaned. She gave the rope a tug, and to her shock, it slipped completely from the faulty pulley. She barely grasped it in her hands in time to keep it from falling. Her breaths were loud as she righted her weight. Now what was she to do? It was too far to jump.
Wyneth’s voice and hands shook wildly as she spat, “I take it you don’t murder for fun in your own kingdom, then.” She took another step back.
“I’m warning you.” The woman’s voice took on a sinister edge. “One more move and I will wake my beast to stop you.” No! Aerity stared down as the woman made a sound from the back of her throat, like three clicks, and the beast quickly raised its head.
Quickly, Aerity pulled the rope with all her might, tying it around the beam with a double knot. Her arms burned and her hands stung. She wiped sweat from her brow.
Wyneth had gone still below. Aerity, panicking, lay flat against the beam and wound the end of the rope around herself, pulling it up and yanking it into a tight, double knot. The rock was heavy in her pocket, the sharp points pressing into her hip.
Aerity slowed her breathing, garnering her strength and concentration. She slid the lower half of her body over the edge, pressing her stomach against the beam. Her feet wound around the rope. It was thicker and rougher than her silks, but the concept was the same. She winced and grasped the rope, lowering herself slowly, with ease and care. She glanced over her shoulder, certain she’d be noticed midair, but nobody looked her way. Wyneth must have spotted her by now, and Aerity was proud of her cousin’s cool demeanor in not giving her away. Aerity blessedly arrived at the dirty floor. Without hesitation, she hastened through old cabinets and crates toward the front of the room until she was close enough. She crouched behind a broken crate and pulled the rock from her pocket.
The woman continued talking. “Let me tell you what we are going to do now, Lady Wavecrest. I will send a letter to the king, letting him know I have you . . .”
Aerity had no plans to let her finish. She stepped out from behind the crate, her arm cocked back. Aerity felt momentarily stunned as she faced the black-haired beauty, whose bright blue eyes widened at the sight of the princess. Before the woman had a chance to wake the beast with her call, Aerity threw the rock with all her might. The rock flew, hitting hard, bashing the woman’s collarbone.
All at once the woman fell to her knees with a shrill scream of pain and anger. Aerity scrambled to the ground, yanking at the bow. The beast snorted, its glassy eyes cracking open before drooping closed again. Wyneth gave a cry and rushed to help, pulling up the guard’s shoulder so Aerity could withdraw the bow and snatch out an arrow. Still on her knees, the princess had the arrow nocked and the bow drawn straight at the woman, who stared at her from the floor, shock and hatred in her blazing, light eyes.
“Do not make a single sound,” Aerity warned her. “Or I swear I will pierce you without thought.”
The woman’s full, red lips pursed. One hand was raised across her chest, holding her wound as her eyes darted toward the snoozing beast.
“Not. One. Sound.” Aerity’s eyes were trained on the woman as she spoke to her cousin. “Wyn, open the door. Help will be here soon.”
But when Wyneth wrenched the sliding door open, what they found was Vixie, sitting, her back against the outer wall. “She’s passed out!” Wyneth said. Aerity’s stomach sank.
Wyneth crouched at Vixie’s side and cupped the girl’s face. Her eyes fluttered open and Aerity let out a breath.
“Go,” Aerity urged Wyneth. “Swim for help.”
Wyneth’s voice shook as she stood and glared at the woman. “Don’t hesitate to shoot her, Aer.”
“I won’t.”
At this, Wyneth ran. Aerity stared down the Kalorian beauty, whose ice-blue eyes darted around with calculated desperation.
Aerity had never been face-to-face with a killer. This woman, in her bright red dress, seemed like some harmless, exotic jewel. But it was she who was at the center of the kingdom’s sorrow. At the heart of the evil they’d endured. The people of the land had feared and suffered—the king, Wyneth, Aerity herself . . . all because of this person . . . and this beast she and her father had created, with its strange matted hair and rows of scales. It didn’t seem possible. But then Aerity recalled the room of animal carcasses, what seemed like dark experiments, of beasts being cut apart and pieced together with the wrong parts to make something bigger, stronger, unnatural. Oceans deep . . . it was disturbing.