Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice Book 2) (13 page)

Q
ueen Helena traded
her needlepoint for a cup of tea, and drew a long sip. She wished the piping-hot liquid would distract her and quell her growing worry. Why on earth had she not yet received word from Zayne, or have him appear before her? Had he not heeded her words of caution and instead cast the scroll aside without considering her urgent plea?

Alas, the tea had cooled and offered her little distraction at all. She returned her cup to the side table with a shaking hand. If something had happened to Zayne, if he were not able to bring her joy, to lighten the dreary days, life might well become unbearable. Robert would be furious, not at the loss of his son but of his heir apparent. And then what? Would he demand another child? Seek a woman who could provide him what Helena no longer could?

An unpleasant medley of emotions wove through her mind as she shifted her gaze to the nearest window. Helena had never desired to be queen, never wished to be anything other than a peasant’s beloved wife. To learn her family’s craft of healing and to care for others. Instead, she’d been swept into the world of royals after, by sheer happenstance, catching the eye of their future king.

And as she had grown to know so very well, whatever Robert wanted, Robert did indeed receive.

“Fetch me my wife.”

Her gaze narrowed at his voice echoing down the hall. She sounded no more valued than a pair of slippers or plate of food when he spoke of her in such a way. Perhaps in his mind, she had become worth little more. Resentment toward him, toward her lot in life, flared brightly within her chest.

“My queen.”

Thomasina appeared at her side, sheepish as ever.

“Yes, child. What is it?”

“A scroll for you, Your Majesty,” she whispered.

Relief washed over her. Helena cast a quick glance beyond her handmaiden to ensure no other servant was present, then took the offered scroll. “Does the king know of its arrival?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Excellent. Let us keep it that way, shall we?”

“Yes, ma’am. Though the king does request your presence.”

“Aye. Please pass along to him that I will be there momentarily, once this row of stitching is complete.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Helena made quick work of the seal and unrolled the parchment, eager to read Zayne’s response. To her dismay, the script before her was not from her son but from Berinon.

D
earest Lena
,

As I foretold upon our last encounter, strange alliances have been made among those with deadly plans in their hearts. Visit not the village of Weston, and you shall avoid injury. There are those who will attempt to turn you from me with lies and fear. Believe them not, for never would I seek to hurt or mislead you. To this truth, you must hold fast.

Your Loyal Servant,

Ber

H
elena blinked away
the heated tears that now blurred her vision. A heartfelt message from her oldest, dearest friend, but what did it all mean? Why would her sister’s people seek to tarnish his name?

Footsteps sounded in the hall outside her chamber, their pattern one she knew all too well. The queen rose from her seat and hurried to the fire. She hugged the scroll to her chest and whispered a pledge to do as the wizard had asked—to hold fast to his promises, his loyalty—then tossed both it and her needlepoint into the fire. Parchment and cloth were quickly consumed by the hungry flames, and Helena watched the Godfrey family crest she had been stitching melt away.

“You place your needlepoint above my request?”

The hairs on the back of her neck rose at the sound of Robert’s growl behind her. She bowed her head and issued a brief, silent prayer for courage.

“Forgive me, my king. It was a gift intended for you, and so I sought perfection.”

“Oh? And where is this gift?”

“Gone, sire.” Helena motioned toward the flames. “Ruined by a drop of tea, and so no longer worthy to be given.”

A hand came to rest upon her shoulder, its touch unexpectedly light. “Any gift from a devoted wife is one to be treasured, whether perfect or not.”

She turned to face him, riddled with guilt as always upon being caught in the presence of one man while thinking of another. His pronouncement of her being devoted to him only sharpened the sting.

“I shall remember that upon my next attempt, Your Majesty.”

“There was a time when such a concern worried not your fair head.” He took her hand and kissed it gently. “It seems I have been too harsh with you these past few weeks. Forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive, my husband.”

He frowned. “Words to appease. Tell me, my queen, if not my actions, then what is it that upsets you so this day?”

“I…” What could she say that would be neither truth nor lie? “I am not upset so much as melancholy, my king, after receiving a scroll from my sister Ella.”

“Ah.” He led her to the nearest pair of chairs and motioned for her to sit, then took a seat as well. “Your sisters, are they well?”

“It seems as though they are.”

“But…?”

Why does he take such interest in me this day?
“There was much left unsaid in the letter. I fear for their well-being.”

“Then perhaps we should travel to Weston, allow you to speak with them directly.”

“No!”

Robert’s brow arched skyward. Curse Ella’s warning, and the most recent from Berinon. Both had made her skittish and her deceit flawed.

“Your health, Your Majesty! You are much too weak to travel as yet.” She shook her head. “My sisters will be fine, as shall I. Please, let us remain here, at the castle, until you are well once again.”

“You wish me to believe that you, the woman who has sought to escape this castle since the day it became her home, would rather remain here than visit with your beloved sisters?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you expecting a visitor, Helena?”

“A visitor? At this hour?” She shook her head. “None I am aware of, Your Majesty. Though Zayne should soon return from his visit with Adelaide.”

“Try as you may to hide it, I know it is not Ella who has reduced you this day to tears. It is him.”

Helena froze. “Him, sire?”

“Zayne, our son. You fear losing your boy to his future wife. ’Tis an emotional time for you, I see that now.”

Relief washed over her at his erroneous deduction, though she continued to play the part. “Yes. Yes, a highly emotional time.”

“Fear not, my wife, for we shall overcome this difficult time as we have all others: together.” He pushed himself up and out of the chair, then offered her his hand. “Come, I require your assistance with another matter entirely.”

Together? Helena was taken aback. His words this night were kinder than any offered to her in quite some time. Had healing from his illness brought clarity to mind and perhaps softened his hardened heart? She took his hand and rose from her seat as well.

“Oh? And what is it that you require my assistance with, sire?”

“Why, drawing my bath, of course.”

Helena forced the smile to remain upon her lips as the insult of his master-to-servant request slowly consumed her. She shifted her gaze from Robert to the hall. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

A
fter several harrowing minutes
, Adelaide felt her kidnapper begin his descent. She cracked open both eyes and struggled to make out anything around them in the moonless night. Screaming, of course, was still pointless—the tail wrapped around her chest was like a cast of steel, preventing her from drawing in anything but the shallowest of breaths.

For once, instead of terrifying her, the whole scenario just pissed her off.

She was tired of being bullied by dragons. Tired of being told what to do, what not to do, and when and how to do just about everything else. If they ever did decide to touch down, whoever was behind tonight’s capture was in for a rude awakening.

As had happened the last time she’d been snatched up by a beast, Addie found herself being deposited not so gently upon the ground. Only this time, she was ready for it. She rolled to a stop and sprang to her feet, fists raised and ready to punch her captor square in the throat. But instead of transforming to snag her in human form, her captor sailed to the far side of their clearing, landed, and turned its monstrous black head and glowing red eyes her way.

“
You
.”

Quinn offered her a snort and made for the woods. Addie stormed after Quinn, fists clenched tighter.

“Get down here and transform, you big ugly jerk!”

“Adelaide, please. Lower your voice.”

She spun to see her brother step from the woods maybe twenty feet away. “Tristan! Oh, thank goodness you’re here. I told you we couldn’t trust this asshole. He stole me from my bedroom window!”

“I know. He did so on my orders.”

“But…why?”

“Because I could not leave you home with Father, not while we were away rescuing Prince Zayne.”

“Rescuing him?” Addie started toward Tristan. Behind her, the air whipped and whirled as beast became human once again. “What the hell did you do?”

“After I took the scroll to Father, he ordered that Zayne be captured and forced to lead us to the witches. And to Rosalind.”

“Captured? Why didn’t he just
ask
Zayne to help him?”

“Father believed Zayne would lie to him, or lead him into a trap set by the witches.”

Addie shot her brother a dark look. “And who would have given him that idea?”

“I admit, it was I who convinced him Zayne could not be trusted—”

Her fist sprang forward of its own accord and slammed into Tristan’s left cheek.

“Ow!” Shock then fury washed over his features, and he raised a hand to strike her back. “Why you little—”

Quinn stepped between them, his eyes still glowing a dull red and his voice a low hiss. “Enough.”

“Fine.” Addie lowered her fists, feigned calm until her brother did the same, then ducked around Quinn and sprang onto Tristan’s back, wrapping his neck in a choke hold. “Spoiled brat. I can’t believe you narked on my fiancé!”

“Get. Her. Off me!”

Large hands pried Addie from her brother and tossed her to the ground. She lay sprawled on her back, seething. When she rose and angled for Tristan a second time, Quinn stepped between them.

“If we are to rescue Zayne and Rosalind without being caught ourselves, you must stop behaving as enemies and work together.”

“Work together? Are you crazy? I don’t trust either of you farther than I can throw you.”

“We have no choice,” said Tristan. “There is a war coming, sister, whether we like it or not. If we cannot retrieve Rosalind before Father discovers we have all gone missing, he shall threaten to start a war with Edana unless they grant him access to the witches’ village. Once he does, innocent lives are sure to be lost.”

“And what makes you think we’ll be able to just waltz into the witches’ camp and convince them to hand Rosalind back over to us?”

Tristan turned a dark gaze to Quinn. “It seems we have more ties to the witches than previously believed.”

“Oh?” She looked from him to Blackstone. “So what, you have a long-lost cousin among their ranks or something?”

“Far better than that.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “My mother…is their queen.”

“Their queen?” A giggle bubbled inside her. “Your mother is the witch queen.” Another giggle. “Then that makes you and Zayne…” A full-blown fit of laughter dropped her to her knees.

Quinn glowered at her. “I fail to see the humor, Princess.”

She clamped both hands over her mouth, but after the stressful day and mental trauma she’d endured, hysterics had temporarily taken hold. Giggles loosened her tongue once more, and the word “cousins” escaped in a giddy release.

Quinn stormed off with a growl, leaving Tristan to collect her from the ground.

“Come on,” he said in a huff. “Your fiancé awaits.”

* * *

Z
ayne awoke
to the sound of muffled voices. Frozen and aching from head to toe, he struggled to crack open an eye. Was it Jarin, back to torture him yet again?

Lest he appear a weakling before the mad tyrant, Zayne used what strength he could summon to push himself up into a seated position. Pain radiated throughout his body, blinding him momentarily and bringing a cry to his lips. He bit it back and released it in a string of broken gasps.

“Zayne?”

Adelaide. The vision of when last he saw her came to mind, warming his very soul. But the sound was merely an illusion created to mask the pain. Jarin would never allow her to leave the castle, let alone into this dark and dreary dungeon. Yet he heard her call for him again, the sound this time accompanied by footfalls in the distance.

He squinted into the darkness, trying to see beyond the veil of pain which blanketed him still. Were those lights bobbing in the distance? Zayne tried to speak, but his dry throat produced not a sound.

“This way, I think.”

Zayne swallowed and tried again. “Addie.”

Though feeble as it crossed his lips, his spoken word was not lost on her. Footfalls quickened, then a door across from him slammed open and his beloved nymph burst into the space.

“Zayne!”

In a blink, Adelaide was at his side, dropping to her knees as she set a lantern on the stone floor. With her near, his pain seemed to subside to an almost manageable level. He sat taller and reached for her, but the chains soon halted his progress.

“Oh, Zayne. Are you hurt? These lines across your chest… God, who
did
this to you?”

“Your father.” He hated how weak he sounded, how weak he must look to her. “He believes me a traitor.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Poison dripped from her voice as she threw a dark look behind her. But when her face turned back toward his, awash once more in the glow of her lantern, it displayed only concern. She cupped his face in her hands and pressed the gentlest of kisses along his brows. Across his cheeks. Onto his dry lips.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t believe it for a moment.”

Blackstone stepped from the shadows. “We may discuss his innocence later. At this moment, we need to free Prince Zayne and make our exit before the guards make their rounds. Are you able to walk, sire?”

Zayne grimaced. If sitting up had triggered such blinding pain, what might an attempt at standing and walking bring? To show additional weakness before Addie might wound his pride beyond repair. “I…”

“Come, sister. Allow Quinn to free him from his chains while we make sure the guards do not lie in wait outside.”

Addie stiffened beside him at Prince Tristan’s voice. “Not gonna happen, buddy. I’m never leaving Zayne’s side again. Thanks to you, he’s—” Her voice cracked, and a small sob escaped her.

It broke Zayne’s heart to hear such a sound. He offered her a weary smile. “Do as your brother asks, my lady. I shall join you shortly.”

“Zayne, I’m—”

“Please.”

Her shoulders slumped at his gentle prodding. She bent to place one last kiss upon his forehead, then rose to join her brother. With each step she took away from Zayne, the more acute his pain became once again. Had the others not been present, he might well have beckoned her back. As it was, he had to bite back a cry when she reached the door.

“This better not be another one of your schemes, buddy.” She jabbed a finger into her waiting brother’s chest. “Because if it is? I’m gonna do way worse than give you a black eye next time.”

She shoved the door wide and stalked from the room. Tristan ran a hand through his mussed hair, then turned and followed her. Zayne looked from the prince’s swollen cheek to Quinn, who shook his head as he approached.

“It seems your betrothed has quite a temper, my lord.”

Zayne’s chest swelled painfully with pride. “That she does, Blackstone. That she does.”

Quinn made quick work of releasing him from the shackles, then eased him to his feet.

“Are you able to walk, sire? We must hurry.”

“I shall do my best.” Zayne sucked in a sharp breath as Quinn helped him forward. Pain stabbed through his chest at each step, blurring his vision. Never had he been dealt an injury such as this. In that moment, he gained a new respect for his rival ice dragons.

Blackstone guided him onward to the base of a stone staircase. Up ahead, the glow of Tristan’s lantern beckoned. Zayne judged the stairs that separated him from Adelaide and braced for the pain that was sure to follow. But to see her again, to be held by her, he would walk over embers of the hottest fire or blades of the coldest ice.

“So what is the plan?” he asked.

“The plan is to get us all out of here in one piece, undetected.”

“And after that?”

“I know a place.”

“Can we trust you?” Zayne cast his helper a wary glance.

A mirthless grin drew across Quinn’s face. “Do you have a choice?”

“Hear me, Blackstone, if any harm comes to my Adelaide—”

“Then I shall have a king and two princes after my head. Trust me, right now?” Quinn looked from him to the top of the stairs. “’Tis the least of my worries.”