Iron Crowned (24 page)

Roland gave a brisk nod of acknowledgment. He already knew this, but in the sudden flurry, he didn’t have the necessary pause to do a full banishing. Kiyo reached us, throwing himself on me and pushing me away from Roland. I fell hard to the ground, Kiyo’s weight pinning me there. As quickly as he’d turned fox, he transformed back into a man. Still displaying amazing speed, he pulled me up by the arm. I didn’t know if his intentions were simply to cart me out of the house or to attempt a world-jump then and there, but I didn’t give him the chance. I’d recovered my senses and took hold of my magic. The air grew thick, and a hurricane-worthy gust blasted him away—along with a substantial part of my parents’ furniture.

Kiyo grimaced as he regained his footing and agonizingly took one step at a time toward me.

“Damn it!” he yelled over the roar of the wind. “Stop this!”

“You
stop this!” I shouted back. The magic burned in my blood, and no matter how annoyingly weak the pregnancy had made me, my power hadn’t diminished too much. “We don’t even know that this prophecy’s real! I’ve already
met one fake seeress. It could all be for nothing.” Roland and my mother had once told me that prophecies were a dime a dozen in the Otherworld, and I’d seen that to a certain extent. Until now, I’d never wanted to take the chance that mine wouldn’t come true.

“But we don’t know!” Kiyo countered. I could see the irritation on his face. I was keeping a storm raging around me, one that held him at bay while hopefully Roland began a banishing. “We can’t risk it.
Please.
Please come back with me to Maiwenn. We’ll fix this.”

I didn’t answer and instead kept the storm going. My gaze stayed on Kiyo, but I felt the tingle of shamanic magic—human magic—beginning to glimmer. Roland was indeed performing a banishing spell.

Kiyo transformed into a fox again, and with that extra strength, he managed to push through the storm-shield around me and knock me to the ground again. He stayed as a fox this time, holding onto that strength. His teeth bit into my shirt, through to my shoulder, and I yelled out in pain. My magic wavered, and to my astonishment, he began dragging me—slowly—across the living room.

His progress was halted when a small end table slammed into his back. I tell you, those things are lethal. Instinctively, he reared up against his attacker: Jasmine. He shoved her away, and she stumbled back. Snarling, Kiyo returned to me, and I had the uneasy feeling my odds were getting worse as to whether he’d cart me away or just kill me. He could hold on to human thoughts in fox form, but they
became increasingly influenced by animal reactions the longer he stayed transformed.

He suddenly looked away from me, gold eyes on Roland, who stood planted firmly across the room with his wand extended. I’d sensed the banishing earlier because of my training. Now, with the spell in full force, Kiyo could feel it too. Abandoning me for the new threat, Kiyo raced toward Roland. I screamed as all that animal power slammed into my stepfather, pinning him against the wall. The wand flew from Roland’s hand. The banishing spell disintegrated.

Kiyo shifted to human form again, still trapping Roland. Roland was strong but couldn’t match Kiyo’s strength. Struggling was useless.

“Stop it,” cried Kiyo. “Both of you.”

His arm pressed against Roland’s neck. Roland managed a gasp as the grip cut off his air. Immediately, I let the storm magic around me drop. As I did, I felt that Jasmine had been lending her strength to me without me even realizing it. She too ceased her wielding and struggled up from where she’d been knocked down, coming to stand with me once again. The room fell eerily still.

“Let him go,” I growled, moving slightly forward. I knew I couldn’t win against Kiyo in a physical fight, but I also couldn’t let him harm Roland. “This isn’t about him. Don’t hurt him.”

“Believe me,” said Kiyo, “I don’t want to.” His eyes were dark and human again, but there was still some feral glint in there. “Come with me, and I’ll release him.”

“Come with you,” I said flatly. “To Maiwenn’s?”

“You’ll thank me later,” said Kiyo.

My mind raced frantically. Roland was struggling for breath. How much longer did he have? Would Kiyo really kill him? I wondered if I could get off another blast of magic. Another attack of wind? Lightning? I could create a controlled bolt indoors, but it’d probably kill both men. And if I went with Kiyo … let him take me to Maiwenn … well. There’d be no getting out of that, no escape.

Roland looked ready to pass out. His blue eyes were fixed on me, and then, quickly, he glanced toward my feet. I thought it was him about to lose consciousness, but then I saw the purpose in his eyes. His wand was near my feet, within easy reach. I didn’t let on to Kiyo that I’d noticed. Roland’s eyes returned to me, some message there.

“Please,” I begged, wondering frantically what Roland wanted me to do. “Let him go.” I couldn’t pull off a banishing spell. There wasn’t enough time. Kiyo would release Roland, true, but then I’d be the one attacked again. I honestly didn’t know how long Kiyo would play it safe. He was attempting “reasonable” solutions: force me to go to Maiwenn, blackmail with Roland, et cetera. Sooner or later, if he truly believed the prophecy’s threat, he would simply eliminate me.

Roland was still staring at me, still wanting me to do something he thought would save us. He’d trained me. Surely I could figure it out. I
had
to. What could a wand do? It cast spells. It banished creatures, sending them out of this world….

I felt my eyes widen. I knew what he was telling me to do. Doing it would save him, I was certain,
because Kiyo would release him and come after me … into the Otherworld. Roland wanted me to open a gateway for myself. I could do it. It was a fast spell, one I had the power for. Forcing another being through was what took so much time and effort. But opening the gate and stepping through? That could be done quickly.

If
it could be done. Getting in was easy. Passing through the worlds unassisted was hard, and I’d even had trouble going through fixed, physical gates lately in my weakened state. Making a blind, unaided transition might not even be possible for me. I’d done it once before, and it had required a lot of power. And dear God, had it hurt. If I could do it, though … I’d get away from Kiyo, and Kiyo would let Roland go in order to chase me down. This could buy me the time to flee to safety.

The only thing that might make it possible was that I had anchors in the Otherworld to help pull me in. If I jumped with no solid destination, I could end up trapped between the worlds, my essence disintegrated. Hell, that might still happen, but an anchor would reduce the likelihood. I didn’t know where I was in relation to the Otherworld’s layout, but the closest anchor would pull me in if this worked.

Time to find out.

With speed that rivaled Kiyo’s, I reached for the wand and then grabbed hold of Jasmine’s hand. Bringing her only made my task more difficult, but I wouldn’t leave her to Kiyo. With the wand, I summoned the necessary magic and ripped open a gate to the Otherworld. Kiyo realized what was
happening and released Roland, trying to reach me—but it was too late. I threw myself into the opening, clinging to Jasmine, and knew it would shut immediately behind us, simply because I couldn’t hold open a personal gate for long.

It felt just as painful as last time, like I was crashing through the floors in a building. Down, down, down. Smash, smash, smash. Each layer was more agonizing than the last, and with each blow, I felt like I was being torn apart. It was likely I was, and I would destroy Jasmine with me, ripping our souls from our bodies.

Then, I sensed a tug. My soul turned toward it, and I felt my fractured self coalesce and become whole, even as that falling, excruciating sensation continued. Then—there was only one impact left: a real one. Jasmine and I slammed into a hard stone floor. My body cried out at the pain. True, physical pain. I had already been hurting from the fight with Kiyo, and now, crashing through the worlds had taken that pain to new levels.

Nausea welled up in me, and I fought hard not to throw up. I could hear Jasmine whimpering, but the sights around us were a blur as my disoriented mind tried to get a hold of itself. Finally, the world came into focus, the colors and lines growing sharp once more. A faint hum of magic in the air, one that was always present, told me I’d made it intact to the Otherworld.

And Dorian was looking down at me.

“Ow.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as another wave of nausea rolled through me.
Control, control.
A few deep breaths later, I opened my eyes and met Dorian’s gaze.

“Unexpected,” he said in that dry way of his. “And unwelcome.”

I sat at the base of his throne in the banquet hall, which was packed. It must have been mealtime, but no one was paying attention to the food. They were all on their feet, staring at the evening entertainment that had literally dropped into their midst. I peered around, wondering how I’d been drawn to this spot and then found it—the Slinky I’d left here as my anchor. It had once had its own little room, but now sat on a table beside Dorian’s throne, one he kept small treasures and knickknacks on to amuse him when holding court. Odd placement.

There was no time to ponder that, though. I turned to Jasmine who looked as disoriented and
sick as I felt but didn’t seem to have suffered any permanent damage. Her body and soul were intact, which was what counted. I looked back at Dorian and tried to stand up, but my legs gave way beneath me. I started to fall and clutched his robe instinctively. Jasmine, with surprising speed, moved in to catch my arm and steady me.

“Hospitality,” I gasped out. “Please.”

Dorian’s
unwelcome
comment had been a reminder that I currently didn’t have hospitality and that I was technically trespassing and fully vulnerable to attack within his walls. Yet, the fact that I hadn’t already been removed was a good sign, and though his expression more or less remained unchanged, there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes. He couldn’t ignore me on my knees, begging him for protection. Not yet. No matter how angry he was at me, this kind of novelty was too irresistible for his nature.

He started to speak, undoubtedly ready with some witty quip, but was interrupted when Jasmine clutched at him and added her pleas to mine. “Please. Give us your protection. Hurry!”

Dorian frowned, no longer able to hide his curiosity and surprise. “The daughters of Storm King, begging me for help after one made it
quite
clear she didn’t ever want to see me again. Do tell me why I shouldn’t have you thrown out or imprisoned.” He paused thoughtfully. “Or ransomed back to your own people. Quite a profit there, I imagine.”

“Dorian—” I began.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the hall’s
entrance. A cluster of Dorian’s guards appeared—with Kiyo between them. I wasn’t surprised he’d showed up so quickly. My mark would have led him right to me, and while he couldn’t jump directly into Dorian’s castle, he’d probably crossed over right in front of the gates.

“Sire,” said one of the guards. “He seeks entrance—”

Kiyo wore that fierce, raging expression, and no one in that room could have any doubt that he was there ready for battle. Dorian’s guards certainly had picked up on it, and they closed ranks as he strode forward. I had a feeling Kiyo wanted to fight right through them, but reason and self-control held him at bay—for now.

Meanwhile, at the sight of him, I managed to make my legs work again and scrambled to my feet. Jasmine grasped my hand, helping me rise, and as one, we backed up slightly so that we stood in line with Dorian. The world reeled a little, but I refused to show my weakness. I would not faint.

“Get rid of him,” I said, trying not to sound hysterical. “Deny him hospitality and throw him out.”

“She’s an outcast here,” growled Kiyo, fists clenched. “And this has nothing to do with you. Send her away.”

Tension and silence filled the space between all of us, and all eyes swiveled to Dorian. Neither Kiyo nor I—nor Jasmine, for that matter—had hospitality and protection within Dorian’s household at the moment. We had no guarantees of safety. Hell, if Kiyo decided to attack me right now, no one had to intervene. We would be a great dinner
show. I wondered how good a defense Jasmine and I could put up, if it would be enough to give us a chance to escape to my own land if Dorian wouldn’t help us.

I could guess Dorian’s thoughts—or rather, his confusion. That Kiyo would be on the verge of killing me made no sense. Asking why would go against Dorian’s natural, all-knowing façade. Plus, Kiyo and I weren’t his favorite people right now. Giving in to either of us meant a concession Dorian didn’t want to make.

“Hail to you!”

An unexpected, raspy voice made me jump, and even Dorian flinched a little. From the crowd, Masthera had emerged, her white hair streaming behind her and eyes as wide as ever. She came forward with purpose and—to my total astonishment—fell onto her knees before me. She stared up at me, and I expected that usual scattered and crazy look. Instead, I saw awe and rapture. Worship, even.

“Hail to you, Queen of Rowan and Thorn. Hail to you, bringer of life, bringer of life. I see it—I see the life growing within you, the mother who will fulfill the prophecy!”

She reached a skeletal hand toward my stomach, and I jerked away from her grasp. “Don’t touch me!” I exclaimed.

“I see it,” she cried. “You shine, Queen of Rowan and Thorn. You carry the heir. You shine with it.”

“Dorian!” exclaimed Kiyo, drawing our attention back. His expression had grown dark at Masthera’s
words. Full disclosure was the last thing he wanted. “Give her to me! Stay out of this!”

I again looked pleadingly at Dorian. “He’s going to try to kill me,” I said. “If you throw me out, he and Maiwenn will come after me. Please give us your hospitality.”

Dorian—like most everyone in the hall—had been left dumbstruck by Masthera’s proclamation. Dorian forcibly schooled his face back to neutrality, but the gaze he turned on me was so heavy and penetrating that I was nearly knocked to my knees again.

“Is it true?” he asked in a low voice that probably only Jasmine heard. “Are you pregnant?”

There was no point in lying or pretending. I gave a swift nod.

His next question nearly broke my heart. He tried so hard to keep his voice level and strong, but I heard the break in it, the longing and desperation. “Is it—is there any chance—is it—”

He couldn’t finish but didn’t need to. He wanted to know if he was the father. A million thoughts raced through my head. Would things have been different if we’d actually had intercourse the last time we were together? Would I have gotten pregnant with his child, instead of Kiyo’s? Maybe. Maybe not. Sex didn’t always lead to pregnancy, especially with the gentry. I could still have ended up with Kiyo’s babies or been left with a talk show–worthy paternity dispute. If Dorian had been the one to get me pregnant, my future would have been signed and sealed. He would have moved heaven and earth to keep me
safe. As it was, I probably could have lied now. The gentry had no paternity tests. That would have simplified things—but I couldn’t do it.

“No,” I said softly.

Dorian’s features stilled, and a surprising wave of regret and sorrow filled me in response to the cavalcade of emotions that had to be going through him as well. He had no reason to help me, not after what he saw as my betrayal. And certainly not with me carrying another man’s children.

“Please,” said Jasmine. Her blue-gray eyes were large and desperate. I’d never seen her so humble and meek. And I’d certainly never expected to see it on my behalf. “Please help us. Please give us your hospitality. Your Majesty.”

My eyes were still locked with Dorian’s, my heart still breaking over the hurt I’d caused him. Off to the side, I heard Kiyo warn Dorian again, “This is between Eugenie and me. Give her to me, and this ends. If you don’t, Maiwenn and God knows who else will get involved.”

“I’m sorry,” I said to Dorian, my voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please,” Jasmine repeated, nearly on the verge of tears now. “Hospitality.”

The whole world hinged on Dorian. No one breathed. Then, abruptly, he turned away from me.

“Granted,” he said crisply. “The daughters of Storm King are under my protection. Remove the kitsune, and do not allow him entrance again.”

The guards were in motion almost before Dorian finished speaking. More had slipped into the room in the last minute or so, and it was a good
thing too. Kiyo fought against all of them as they laid hands on him and began dragging him backward. They made little progress, so great were his struggles He was strong, so insanely strong, and it scared me to think what would have happened if I’d been left to him in my weakened state.

“Dorian!” roared Kiyo, still fighting against the guards’ grip. “Don’t do this! You’ll regret it!”

Dorian had returned to his normal laconic persona. “You will address me as ‘King Dorian’ or ‘Your Majesty,’” he replied. “And you will
not
disobey my orders within my home.”

The floor trembled, and I heard a gasp from those gathered. Uneasily, I remembered an idle comment Dorian had once made, about how he could bring the castle down around us if he wanted to. The walls stayed intact, however, but a large section of the stone floor ripped up, eliciting more cries of fear. Before my eyes, the slab of stone morphed and stretched, then flew through the air toward Kiyo. It wrapped itself around his torso, enclosing his arms in a sort of magical strait-jacket. Kiyo, unsurprisingly, stopped struggling, but his shouts didn’t cease.

“Eugenie! You don’t know what you’re doing! This isn’t over!
Eugenie!”

“Get him out,” said Dorian coldly. “Now. If he resists again or changes form, kill him.”

The guards hurried to obey while Kiyo continued yelling his outrage at me, Dorian, and the world. I hoped they moved fast because Dorian had had a point. If Kiyo transformed into a fox, he’d slip out of his stone prison. Of course, he’d
have to transform into a small fox, which would do little harm, but still. It would be a lot better for all of us once Kiyo was outside the walls.

The guards must have succeeded because no more commotion followed. Jasmine turned to Dorian.

“You should have killed him anyway,” she said flatly. Her standard response.

The ghost of a smile flickered across Dorian’s lips, though his eyes were still hard. “You’re nearly as delightful as your sister,” he observed. “No matter how displeased I am at the two of you right now, I admit, things will certainly be entertaining with you around. And they will become
very
entertaining soon.” That was directed at me. “If you think you brought a war down before, you haven’t seen anything yet, my dear. You’ve caused me quite a bit of trouble.”

I barely heard him. The adrenaline was fast fading from my body, and all the pain from fighting with Kiyo and then doing the forced transition began returning. I felt sick, and my surroundings were spinning once again.

“Sorry,” I managed to say to Dorian, just before collapsing.