Read Iron Crowned Online

Authors: Richelle Mead

Iron Crowned (17 page)

Chapter 16

Kiyo asked no questions when I called Enrique back and told him I’d be out of town and out of contact for a while—but that I trusted him to carry on. Really, Kiyo said little at all as we hurried back to my house. Within minutes, I had a small satchel packed, and then we were off to the Otherworldly crossing. No matter what ups and downs had occurred in our relationship, he knew me well. He knew I had to act on this immediately.

The questions began once I reached my castle.

“How the hell,” I began, “did this happen?”

I was in one of the receiving rooms, Kiyo by my side as I stared down Shaya and some of the soldiers who manned the grounds. Rurik was with them, which gave me mixed feelings. I was glad he was back from Dorian’s. I trusted him more than any other military guy around here. That being said, there was a petty part of me that held him responsible. How could someone as capable as him have let this happen?

He grimaced, as though guessing my thoughts.
“A small group sneaked onto our grounds, overpowered her guards … and took her.” He hesitated. “She only had two with her, Your Majesty. As you’ll recall, her escort was lightened. Still. There is no excuse.”

I hadn’t witnessed this kind of diplomacy and respect from Rurik since … well, actually, I’d never really witnessed it. With Dorian? Yes. Not with me. Jasmine’s abduction had really gotten to Rurik, no question. I was pretty sure he was taking it personally. But I’d also caught the slight meaning in his carefully worded comment about her lightened guard. That had been
my
call. I had done it in response to her good behavior and had let her outside more. I’d known it was a potential security risk—but not one that involved her leaving
against
her will.

“We’re at war,” I said. “Regardless of her guard, this whole place should have been under lock-down.”

He nodded, face growing grimmer. “As I said, there’s no excuse. I take full responsibility.”

I waved a hand dismissively. “It’s too late now. I know you’re doing your job. Don’t lay yourself out for the slaughter. Volusian said there was a note?”

Shaya handed me a piece of rolled parchment. Kiyo leaned over my shoulder as I read it silently to myself:

To Eugenie, Usurper Queen of the Thorn Land, Daughter of Tirigan Stormi, King:

As you no doubt know by now, I have your sister within my custody. If you wish her returned
to you alive, you and the Oak King will surrender unconditionally to me. You will cease hostilities immediately, withdraw your armies, and cede your lands. Additionally, you will turn over the alleged Iron Crown to me.

If you do not comply with these terms, your sister will be executed at noon, three days from the receipt of this letter. For now, she is alive, and I have given her into the keeping of my nephew Cassius.

I await your response.

Sincerely,

Katrice, Queen of the Rowan Land,

Beloved of the Gods

I looked up at the many watching eyes. “‘Given her into the keeping of my nephew Cassius.’ Does that mean what I think it does?”

Shaya grimaced. “That
is
the nephew she wanted you to marry.”

“Why execute Jasmine then?” I demanded. “Why not marry her off to Cassius? Isn’t that a waste of one of Storm King’s daughters?”

“Katrice hates you,” said Kiyo softly. “At this point, she probably doesn’t even care about the prophecy. She wants to get back at you, hurt you, and if that means killing Jasmine, then it’s probably an acceptable loss—especially if she tries to then give you to Cassius after this ‘surrender.’”

“So
I’d
get to live?”

Kiyo shrugged. “Longer suffering.”

“Why choose her as a hostage though?” I didn’t know why I was arguing the logic here. None of it
mattered. Only the outcome did. “Everyone knows we don’t get along.”

“Everyone also probably knows that’s been changing a little,” said Kiyo. “You brought her to Dorian’s.”

“And,” added Shaya, “a royal family member usually makes the best hostage in these situations.”

These situations.
For a moment, I nearly swayed on my feet, wanting to close my eyes and pass out. It had nothing to do with the heat. It was this. All of this. This situation always repeating itself. Me and Jasmine, cursed by our blood, always to be used and captured as possessions in a greater game. I’d hated Aeson, but at least he’d lured Jasmine into some pretense of love before taking advantage of her. But what about this Cassius? He’d make no attempts at kindness. This was all about punishment and revenge, after all. Had he already raped Jasmine? Was he doing it now? A sickening memory of Leith came to mind, one sharp and clear in spite of the drugged state I’d been in during my ordeal with him. Moments later, it was replaced by an image of this faceless Cassius lowering himself over a cowering Jasmine….

I pushed my weakness aside, steadying myself and bringing the world back into focus. I turned to Rurik. “How far are our armies spread out? How soon could we get them together and march on her? I want to raze that bitch’s lands and burn her castle to the ground! I want to have the fucking wrath of heaven rain down on her and—”

I cut myself off, as startled at my words as the
others were. Where had that rage come from? Well, the situation, obviously. I wouldn’t want anyone thrown to Katrice’s nephew before facing execution. But it occurred to me in that moment that my reaction was also … personal. Somewhere, in the ups and downs of our dysfunctional family, I’d come to care about Jasmine. My anger came from the loss of
her.

“Easy, Eug,” said Kiyo, resting a hand on my arm. There was a nervous note in his voice, mirrored by the others’ expressions. I’d once been told that when I was angry, I resembled my father. I took a deep breath and pushed back any further outbursts.

“Leading a massive army in—while deserved—wouldn’t be …” Rurik was still treading lightly, still choosing words carefully. “Well, Katrice was already in wartime mode, heavily guarded. After this? The lands outside her home probably have triple the guard they did before.”

“But if our force was large enough …” I began.

Rurik nodded. “True. It’s possible. Especially if … especially if my lord Dorian’s armies were involved.” He looked uneasy at mentioning Dorian, but I could see a considering look on Rurik’s face. I had a feeling we shared the same puzzle. Would Dorian lend forces to help me? Possibly not, not if his anger overrode any devotion to me. On the other hand, Dorian
was
still in this war, and I knew him well enough to think he might welcome a full-out march on her castle. Rurik knew that too. “With his forces, it’s possible,” Rurik said at
last. “But Katrice’s would be defending. It would be bloody. It would be ugly.”

He didn’t sound opposed to that, per se. He was a military man; ugly battles were the way of the world. But we all knew that wasn’t ideal.

My mind spun. Part of me wanted that large force to beat on Katrice because I thought she deserved it. This was about more than revenge, however. It was about Jasmine. I needed to go with the plan most likely to get her back, and an invading army wasn’t it. It would take a smaller group, just as she’d no doubt sent here, one that could slip in. We were heavily guarded, but with the assorted petitioners and refugees always coming and going, it was no wonder Jasmine’s kidnappers had slipped in. Katrice undoubtedly had a similar stream of people coming to her in these times, but she’d probably be on high alert with them too.

“Imanuelle,” I said, realizing too many moments of silence had passed. “Can you get me Imanuelle?”

It was this, finally, that took the group’s eyes off me—because they all exchanged astonished looks. Kiyo’s face grew troubled.

“That’s
your plan?” Kiyo asked. “Assassinate Katrice? Eugenie, you’re better than that.” He’d apparently heard of Imanuelle.

“I am,” I agreed. “And smarter. Get her for me.” That was to Shaya, who nodded and then shot a look at a hovering servant. He gave a hasty bob of his head and darted out of the room.

“Ready to repeat history?” I asked Kiyo. “It’ll be like raiding Aeson’s all over again.”

“You’re going … No. Eugenie, you can’t go there.”

I gestured to Rurik and began moving for the exit. “You heard him. We can’t get in with a large force—not easily.”

“Yes, I get that,” said Kiyo, following after me. “But
you
can’t go.”

“I
have
to go,” I countered.

Rurik had hurried along after us. “He’s right. Send someone else. I’ll go. We’ll sneak in and take her.”

I came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing both men to run into me. “I’m going. This is my responsibility. Besides, who else around here can match me magically?” I peered back and forth between their faces, daring them to challenge me.

“Even so,” said Rurik, “if you’re discovered, you’ll be outnumbered. And you’re an enemy queen. In wartime. Walking right into your enemy’s stronghold. I can’t allow this.”

“It’s not your place to allow me to do anything!” I snapped. “Or you either.” I turned to Kiyo for that, guessing his words. “We won’t be discovered. Not if Imanuelle’s as good as she claims.” I was so tired of men telling me what I could and couldn’t do.

I left them and stalked off down the hallway toward my bedroom. Neither followed me right away, but I just barely heard Rurik mutter to Kiyo, “Well, if she’s caught, she
will
get a massive army descending on Katrice, at least. My lord Dorian wouldn’t permit anything less.”

The flaw in my plan, as it turned out, was waiting
on Imanuelle. After our last meeting, she’d left my kingdom, and finding her wasn’t easy. You couldn’t just openly summon a famed assassin. Girard was at my court, however, and apparently had secret ways of sending messages to his sister. I didn’t ask any questions about his means, so long as she showed up.

Waiting for her gave us time to plan strategy. Once my advisors grudgingly accepted that I’d be going personally—and once Rurik accepted that he would not be accompanying me—they fell in line to pool their knowledge about Katrice’s castle. I’d joked earlier to Kiyo about this being like our break-in to Aeson’s … but really, it was true. This time, we had no guide personally to take us in. We had to rely on anecdotal knowledge from those who had been there and could make best guesses at where Jasmine might be held. And that was presuming Katrice was actually keeping her on-hand.

Perhaps the most surprising part of all of this was Kiyo’s acquiescence. I’d expected protests about my safety or perhaps a diplomatic solution. But, no. He realized the importance of saving Jasmine. And he too knew this was probably our best shot—at least on such short notice.

“You should know,” Rurik told us later, “that you aren’t going to be able to bring Volusian.” He, Kiyo, Shaya, and I were in my bedroom, which I’d made my makeshift war headquarters.

“Why not?” I asked. That was a surprise. I’d been counting on his muscle, something I had to admit I’d missed while fighting for the crown.
What was the point of an undead minion if I couldn’t put him to good use? “He can go in with us invisibly.”

Rurik shook his head. “Everyone knows about him. Katrice does. She’ll have people on-hand who can sense him. She’ll also probably have those with the power to banish him. Enough of them united together could.”

“You have a lot of faith in her,” I noted dryly. Volusian was hard to banish—I couldn’t do it—but Rurik had a point. Get enough magic-users together, and they could eventually pull it off.

He gave me a twisted smile. “She’s not stupid. And she has advisors. Not as good as yours, of course, but they would have thought everything over before kidnapping Jasmine.”

A knock on the door interrupted any response I might have made, and after I called entry, a servant showed Imanuelle in.

“Finally,” I said.

She swept in, clad in billowing red silk pants and a matching, midriff-showing top. The assassin arched an eyebrow and gave me an amused look as she put her hands on her hips. “I don’t wait around on your every command, Thorn Queen. And last time we spoke, you made it pretty clear, you
didn’t
want me around. Have you finally come to your senses? From what I hear, now’s a pretty good time to get rid of Katrice.” Imanuelle paused carefully. “Although, getting rid of her before now would have been even better. Would have saved you and your sister a lot of trouble.”

I bit off any snide remarks. “We can’t have
Katrice killed. I’m pretty sure the instant her people found her dead, Jasmine would be next. I need you to sneak in and get Jasmine out of there.”

Imanuelle’s cocky smile dropped. “That’s not what I do. I kill. I don’t rescue.”

“I’ll do the rescuing. You need to get me and Kiyo in. Disguise us with this so-called power you keep bragging about. Or is masking more than one person out of your skill-set?”

“I can do it,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “But it’ll cost you.”

“We can afford it,” I said, trying to ignore the pained look crossing Shaya’s face as she no doubt added up mental ledgers.

Imanuelle said nothing for several moments as she pondered it all. “Just you two?”

“Yes. And you, of course,” I added.

“Do you have any idea where you’re going in there?” she asked.

Kiyo and I exchanged looks. “Kind of,” I said.

“Kind of.” Imanuelle snorted. “Fine. I’ll do it. But I’m only there to disguise you. I’m not fighting if you get caught.”

“You don’t have to,” I assured her. “We’ll protect you.”

This brought another scoff and a haughty curl of her lip. “If they detect us, I can get myself out of there, believe me.
You’ll
be on your own.”

Chapter 17

We learned more about the full extent of Imanuelle’s ability as Kiyo and I made our way with her on horseback to the Rowan Land. Her illusions were every bit as good as she’d demonstrated the first day, and I watched with grudging awe as she transformed Kiyo into Girard, Shaya, and—ack—Dorian. The illusions were perfect—and dangerous. I began to fully understand why she was such a good assassin. She really could be whomever she wanted, slipping into high security places without anyone knowing. I was a bit shocked when some part of my brain skipped right past employing her to detaining her. That part of my brain said getting rid of her would be safer for me in the future, and I immediately chastised myself for the idea. Imprisoning potential enemies was something Storm King would have done.

“It’s not all-powerful,” she said at one point. I think she was just making idle conversation now, having no clue of my concerns. We’d crossed into
the Rowan Land now, and she’d dropped her tricks with Kiyo, settling on illusions of bedraggled peasants for all of us. “Doing it for three people takes more power. And even for myself, I can’t hold up disguises forever.” She made a small face. “If I could, I’d be a spy instead. A lot less messy.”

I said nothing but exchanged brief glances with Kiyo behind her back. He too had to have analyzed the implications of her abilities. I was also thinking that when we’d first tried to rescue Jasmine from Aeson, our plan had failed because a spy had betrayed us. There was every possibility now that Imanuelle could do the same, and I wondered if I’d been too quick to trust such an unknown quantity. I could only hope love for her brother would keep her loyal to his employer.

Despite its name, the Rowan Land was dominated by cherry trees. Well, at least that was my impression whenever I crossed through it while journeying to other kingdoms. As we traveled further along roads that delved deeper into Katrice’s kingdom, the cherry trees gave way to other plants and trees—including rowans. They were smaller than I’d expected and laden with berries of their own. This land was really quite nice, temperate and pleasantly warm, with beautiful green landscapes. It would be a shame if I did have to raze it to the ground.

We saw signs of Katrice’s castle long before the castle itself. Other travelers joined us on the road, those whose towns had been caught in the crossfire of war and now sought out food and shelter from their monarch. Most were on foot, and we
passed them quickly, for which I was glad. I needed no guilt on this journey.

We also began seeing soldiers, undoubtedly part of the increased security that Rurik had predicted. Some were traveling to and from the castle. Some were stationed along the way, carefully watching those of us who passed. I held my breath each time, waiting for Imanuelle’s illusions to fail us. Along with acknowledging her power limits, she’d also told us some gentry were sensitive to her type of magic and could see through her spells. She’d told us this halfway through the journey. It was information that kind of would have been useful before setting out.

But, although we were scrutinized, the soldiers allowed us to pass, and before long, the castle itself came into view. I paused a moment, admiring it in spite of myself. Dorian and I both had dark, blocky stone castles, like Norman strongholds left on barren English countryside. Maiwenn’s home was elegant and fanciful, always reminding me of a Disney movie. Katrice’s castle, however, could have been straight out of a postcard from Bavaria. It had strong, straight rectangular lines, its sides white and covered with windows. That sturdy boxiness was offset by graceful turrets rising from the center, almost delicate-looking with their pointed black roofs. The land had been rising as we traveled, so it wasn’t a surprise to see the castle was situated high on one of the foothills leading off into pretty, snowcapped mountains. It had a sweeping view of the
area we were approaching from, and a sturdy wall surrounded its immediate grounds.

Here we came to a stop along with the others seeking admission. We formed a long, clustered line, making me nervous.

“Why the backup? Are they refusing people?” I asked softly. “We don’t usually have this many at our gates.”

Kiyo peered ahead, his sharp eyes seeing what we couldn’t. “No, they’re letting them in, just doing a fair amount of questioning, which is slowing things down. And you’re right—you never have this many because your lands haven’t been attacked as much.”

Good and bad, I thought. I’d kept my own people safe, but the war
I
was waging was devastating homes. It occurred to me I might not have to worry about Katrice. If these people discovered who was among them, I might very well be taken down by an angry mob.

“Easy,” murmured Imanuelle. “Don’t look nervous. I can’t hide your expressions.”

I schooled myself to neutrality, hoping I looked blank and exhausted. After almost an hour of restless waiting, our turn came. Four guards interrogated us, and we were quick with answers. For our cover story, we’d chosen a village that had been near a battle Dorian’s armies had fought with Katrice’s. Most of the residents had cleared out before the fighting, but a large part of the village had been destroyed.

“Our house was burned to the ground,” Imanuelle said. She didn’t even need the illusion of an older,
rag-clad woman to be pathetic. Her demeanor and voice were filled with perfect, convincing despair. “Our crops were wiped out.”

After a bit more questioning, they let us in, sending us toward what was essentially a gentry breadline. The inner grounds of Katrice’s castle were packed with people—most soldiers—and we had to shoulder our way through the crowd to reach the corner where the poor and huddled masses were situated. Many appeared to have made this courtyard their temporary home. It looked like a well-used campground. Nonetheless, food was on hand, and I was relieved that these victims of war were being cared for.

We hovered near the food line so as not to raise suspicion, all the while assessing the area. In particular, our attention rested on the main gates to the castle itself. It was the most heavily guarded spot of all, and I knew then that an outright assault would have indeed been long and bloody. Other soldiers moved through the door with little questioning, which was what we’d hoped for. Finding a relatively obscured corner between a tall tent and the wall, we ducked out of sight and let Imanuelle work her next spell. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A tingle ran over me, and the world blurred. When I could focus on my companions again, I saw myself looking at the guards who had admitted us.

“Whoa, wait,” I said, assuming I probably looked like one of the gate soldiers as well. “Don’t you think we might have a few problems if we run into
our clones? Why didn’t you make us look like random unknowns?”

“Because if the other guards don’t recognize us, we’ll get questioned more,” Imanuelle explained. She studied her hands critically, a small smile showing pride in her work. “I don’t think the ones at the gate are leaving their posts anytime soon. We shouldn’t run into them.” She spoke confidently, but I had a feeling she was secretly thinking
I hope.

Everyone was too concerned with his or her own affairs to realize that three peasants had ducked away, and three soldiers had emerged. When the refugees saw us, though, they stepped quickly out of our way. No pushing this time. None of us needed lessons on how to behave. Whereas our initial entry had been weak and bedraggled, we now walked with the confidence and strength of those who ran this place. We barely hesitated as we moved to the castle’s entrance, and those on guard stepped aside without comment.

Being inside proved a bit more confusing. We’d received some information on the castle’s layout, but we didn’t know exactly where Jasmine was being held. We couldn’t pause to deliberate, though. We had to keep moving like we had purpose or else attract attention. Soldiers and servants hurried around us, and we fell in step with some down a random hall. Kiyo, always fast-thinking, stopped a lone, young soldier.

“Hey,” said Kiyo brusquely. “We’ve had reports
that someone might try to rescue the Thorn Queen’s sister.”

The soldier’s blue eyes widened. “What? We should alert—”

“No, no,” Kiyo interrupted. “Keep it to yourself. We don’t want to raise suspicion. The outside guard already knows and is on watch. We need to know if she’s been moved or not. There were rumors that she had been.”

I tried not to bite my lip. Kiyo sounded like he knew what he was talking about, but this was a dangerous moment. As I’d worried before, Jasmine might not even be held here. There was also a chance that this guard didn’t know her location, and we’d have to keep playing this game with others. The more people we talked to, the riskier our mission became.

“Not that I’ve heard,” said the soldier. “She’s still in the dungeon.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d half-expected him to say she was in Cassius’s bedroom. The dungeons weren’t great either, but well … it was no different than how I’d initially treated her. I waited for Kiyo to demand more details—how many guards were on her, where the dungeons were, et cetera. Instead he gave the soldier a curt nod and again warned him to be on alert but not to share his knowledge.

“We needed more info,” I hissed to Kiyo as we continued walking down the hall. Whatever her faults, Katrice had good interior design sense. Floral paintings hung on the walls, and elaborate
plants spilled out of vases. The beauty was lost on me, though. “Why’d you let him go?”

“Because real guards would already know anything else we wanted to ask,” he replied. “Asking where the dungeons are would definitely be a tipoff that something was up.”

“And I already know where they are,” said Imanuelle.

Both Kiyo and I looked at her in surprise.

“Downstairs,” she added.

“Dungeons are
always
downstairs,” I pointed out.

“Have you been to them?” asked Kiyo.

She nodded and crooked us a grin. “Powerful leaders aren’t the only ones with prices on their heads. Sometimes important prisoners need to disappear too.”

I grimaced at her amusement but was grateful when she got us turned around. With a clear purpose, I grew more and more tense. This was it. What would we find? No one was giving us a second glance up here, but in the dungeons, we’d attract attention—especially when we busted out one of their prisoners.

Our castle façades might have been different, but Katrice and I possessed similar dungeons. Dark. Gloomy. Gray stone walls and torches. It was such a stereotype, but I supposed it helped dampen the hopes of any prisoners.

Imanuelle led us confidently down flights of stairs and into a long, wide corridor. Jasmine’s cell was easy to spot because six guards stood outside it—again, reminiscent of her earlier conditions at my place.

“Good luck,” said Imanuelle, falling behind us. She was apparently holding true to her word that this was all on us now. The guards on duty were sharp-eyed and naturally noticed our approach, but none of them reacted with wariness or alarm. A couple displayed curiosity, wondering perhaps if orders had changed, but that was it.

Kiyo and I had discussed several strategies on our journey and finally decided swift and surprising force would be the way to go. When we were still several feet away, I sent my magic out, pulling in the air like a deep breath and throwing it back at the guards in the form of a gale-worthy wind. It ruffled our hair and brushed our skin, but the blast literally threw the guards off their feet. There were cries of shock, and two went down right then and there from the impact of slamming against the corridor’s end.

The other four were up on their feet, three drawing copper swords. Fire appeared in the hands of the fourth. I should have expected Katrice would put magic-users on Jasmine, along with brute force. There was no other time to ponder that, though, because the guy suddenly hurled a fireball at us. I instinctually drew on the surrounding air again, along with its moisture, disintegrating the fire with little effort. Kiyo surged forward then, attacking one of the guards. I ran forward as well, my attention focused on another guard as I created a vacuum around him, pulling all air away from him. His eyes widened as he gasped and clutched his throat, trying to draw an impossible breath.

I held the magic as one of his colleagues tried to attack me. I dodged the sword, largely because the iron dagger in my hand was making him keep his distance. The guy in the thralls of my magic finally passed out from the lack of oxygen, and I released him, letting him collapse unconscious to the floor. Before I could even deal with the other soldier by me, Kiyo leapt out and tackled him to the floor. I took this to mean Kiyo’s first opponent was out of commission, leaving me with the magic user.

Not having learned anything the first time, he hurled another fireball at me. I admired his control; too much would have incinerated everyone in the hall. But with my magic, swatting the fire away was an afterthought for me. He had no weapon out, and I stepped forward, pushing my athame to his throat. He cried out at the sting of the iron, offering no fight as I began drawing away his oxygen too. A realization glinted in his eyes. Illusion or no, he must have figured out who would wield air and water so easily—and hold onto iron.

“Thorn Queen …” he gasped out, as the last of his air left him. I saw unconsciousness seizing him, but just before it did, he managed a weak flutter of his hand. No fire came, but I felt an intense wave of heat spread out. It didn’t hurt me, but there was a physical power within it, one that rippled the air and made the walls tremble slightly just before he too collapsed to the floor.

Kiyo and I stood there among the bodies—dead or alive, I didn’t know—and glanced at each
other and our surroundings carefully. Imanuelle still stood back but looked impressed.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

“I’m guessing an alarm,” she said.

“Fuck.”

I turned toward Jasmine’s cell and saw her huddled in the farthest corner, regarding me with large, wary eyes. Water was her true specialty; she had only slight control over air. Nonetheless, she would have felt the strength of the magic I’d used. Like the guard, she knew there were few who could do what I’d done—but her vision told her it wasn’t me standing there. I was still under Imanuelle’s illusion.

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