Broken Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 3) (2 page)

I
crouched several hundred feet from the barracks, hiding in a nearby ditch with several Guild members. Night had fallen, and many of the men from the Guild had quietly infiltrated the castle grounds.

Aaric had tried to keep me in the safety and shelter of the Guild, but I’d refused. He would need both Bran and I as magic users there. They would need every ounce of magic ability we could give them in the event King Matias attacked or if something went wrong and they were simply overwhelmed with soldiers.

After pointing that out, Aaric seemed even more determined to keep me safe, but fortunately Bran had come to my rescue, pointing out the sense in my logic. Matias would be a difficult opponent, and the Guild members would need us.

Aaric had kissed me hastily before disappearing into the inky blackness. He’d said in a breathless whisper that if anything went amiss, he’d come for me.

I lifted my head, peering over the ditch edge. Some guards were making their rounds, several yards away. They weren’t expecting any kind of attack or they would have spotted a Guild member for sure. The city dwellers of Sen Altare were even worse at stealth than Aaric. I felt my lip curl in derision.

I heard the cry of a dune bird and my body tensed. It was the signal to be ready. The birds were fairly common this far south, but not in the heart of the city. I recognized it as Bran’s voice, though no one else would.

Fire lit the night sky, and a loud roar split the air. The devices were set off around the barracks. I could see the flickering light of flames and knew that they’d worked. If Aaric had set everything right, then the entrance to the barracks would be collapsed, sealing the men off inside, but killing only a few, if any. They would be able to escape, given time, but not before we all rushed in to take out Matias.

The guards I’d watched earlier ran past the ditch; they obviously heard the noise. I smirked, watching them run toward the barracks. Everything was going as it should. I rose to a crouch, preparing to ambush them from behind.

A faint thread of magic across my senses was the only warning I had. Blue fire ripped through the air, striking a Guild member crouched next to me. The man screamed in pain, flapping at the flames that threatened to consume him.

Another streak of fire shot down, and another. I looked around, trying to find Matias. He stood several yards away, on the roof of the gatehouse. He was robed in white, his hood thrown back. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but he could’ve seen everything.

It was impossible to see his face in such poor light but I was sure he was looking at me. His arm lifted in preparation for another strike and I called forth every particle of magic I could muster, hurling a blinding white spear of power toward him.

It struck the roof just below his feet, sending a shower of broken tiles everywhere. He staggered and almost fell. Magic surged from him and the ground began to crumple under my feet. I scrambled out of the ditch with a shrill cry, flinging summoned fire in his direction, halting his attack. I doubted I could hurt him, but if it gave me time to escape, that was all I needed. I was no match for him, power against power. “Retreat!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Matias knows we’re here!”

I sprinted toward the barracks. Drawing closer, I heard the sounds of shouts and steel on steel. I desperately hoped that Aaric was safe.

A
aric turned to face the oncoming guards, fumbling with his arc-bow. Bran stepped in front of him, smoothly intercepting their attackers, wielding an ice-blue sword of magic.

Sounds of explosions and the screams of men sounded from the direction of the gates. Toward Adaryn. Aaric’s heart clenched in fear. Something must have gone amiss; he hadn’t set any devices over there.

Aaric ran past Bran and the guards, heedless of the attention he might bring on himself, and dashed toward the castle gates.

Guards and men from the Guild were running in all directions, and the ditch Adaryn had been hiding in was a burning line of fire.

Aaric felt as if his heart stopped beating as he frantically scanned the dark, trying to find the nomad woman. The fire in the blackness of night stood out and he blinked, trying to restore his night vision when Adaryn ran right into him. She squawked in alarm, but when she saw who he was, grabbed his arm and tried to drag him in the direction of the gardens.

“Matias knows we’re here. Where’s Bran? We have to leave!”

Aaric gripped her hand and together they ran back to the barracks. Bran was still locked in combat with the guards, and several more guards had joined the fray. Goldstein was there, his thin blade of steel a blinding whirl as he stabbed and parried, keeping Bran’s back clear.

Adaryn brought her hands up, hurling fire at the guards. “Bran, we need to go,” she shouted. “Matias knows we’re here.”

Adaryn’s magical fire served as a deterrent, and Bran and Goldstein ran over to meet them. Adaryn led the way to the gardens.

“What about my men?” Goldstein asked, slowing his pace. He looked toward the ditch. It was still burning bright, and men ran and fought all around it.

“There’s no time,” Adaryn said emphatically, her hair in wild disarray about her face. “Matias could be here any moment—there!” She pointed toward the gatehouse at a lone figure in white striding toward them.

“Run!” Adaryn squeaked, and dashed toward the gardens.

Bran raced after her, and Aaric started to when he saw Goldstein hadn’t moved.

“We need to leave, Goldstein,” Aaric shouted.

The taller man shook his head. “I won’t abandon my men. Get your woman out while you can. I’ll try and buy you some time.”

Several of the guards gathered around Matias and they began chasing down the scattered Guild members.

With a roar, Goldstein rushed toward the king, yelling at his men to retreat.

Aaric shook his head—Goldstein was a brave fool—and ran toward the garden. He might have considered staying, but getting Adaryn out of this mess was his first priority. He hoped some of the other men would be able to escape from their now disastrous attempt to take the king.

“
T
hat was probably the worst attempt to take out a king in the history of . . . ever,” Aaric grumbled. He, Bran, and I were seated in the Scholar’s Guild archives, looking over the sky jewel’s file. Many of the Guild members had left. Matias’ men were practically tearing up the city trying to find me. I knew I should feel guilt that Goldstein and his men had died, but I only felt relief in knowing they died before revealing the Guild and my current hiding place. It was only a matter of time, however, before he found me. We had to act quickly.

Bran jerked his head in an affirmative to Aaric’s statement. “Even without his guards, I’m not sure we could have defeated him. Shades alive, his magical strength is off the charts.” He steepled his fingers together, brow furrowed. “And somehow he knew we were coming. I would have suspected Goldstein of treachery, but . . .” Here he raised an eyebrow at Aaric. “You said he stayed behind to fight?”

“Correct. He didn’t want to leave his men. I don’t think he betrayed us.” Aaric frowned at us. “Perhaps he sensed you two? You’re magic users, after all.”

I shook my head. “We would have had to use the magic in order for him to sense us. I didn’t call it until after he knew I was there. Did you use it beforehand?” I asked Bran, and he shook his head.

We were all quiet after that, each lost in our own gloomy thoughts.

“Perhaps you’re ready to try my plan, then?”

I jumped, startled. Grace was standing between two of the bookcases, her arms crossed.

“How did you get in here without us hearing the doors open?” I growled. She may have been a member of the Scholar’s Guild in Sen Altare, but up north, she was a filthy, no-good Oppressor, and I wasn’t going to forget it.

Grace smirked at me, arching a thin eyebrow. “I was already in here, trying to find the sky jewel file—” she grimaced faintly, “—but I couldn’t find it before you did, apparently.” She glanced irritably up at the shelves looming over her. “You would think the files would be organized properly down here. It’s a wonder anyone can find anything.”

Aaric and I exchanged glances, sharing the same thought: how much had she heard?

“I heard everything,” Grace smirked, walking over to join us. She sat next to Bran, across from me. “And Bran and I have decided to try—”

“Hold on,” I barked, crossing my arms. I glared at Bran. “You’ve been talking to her?”

Bran shrugged, a guilty smile on his face. “Why not? Our last plan failed spectacularly. But I knew Grace had an idea previously, and after talking to her, I think she’s right. It’ll work.”

“No harems,” Aaric said sternly, his gray eyes peering at the two of them through his reading spectacles. “We’ve already discussed this. I’m not putting any women in potential danger, especially after the last plan.”

Bran held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Just listen, Aaric. That’s all I ask.” He gave Grace a smile of encouragement, and edged his seat a little closer to her.

Grace smiled back, a faint blush stealing across her face. I bit my lip, studying the two of them. When she started to speak, however, I found myself sitting up and listening attentively. Her idea was pure madness. But I had to hand it to her. It might actually work.

A
aric and Adaryn stood in the Scholar’s Guild main entry with Bran, who was about to leave.

Adaryn peered anxiously at the tall nomad. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

Bran smiled, but there was a tightness around his eyes.

“I’m not the one waltzing into the king’s personal chambers,” he said. “All I have to do is open the gates for Sirius Archer’s riot. Be careful, Adaryn, and make sure Grace doesn’t get in over her head.” He glanced at Aaric, his expression unreadable. He didn’t seem to have the animosity toward Aaric that he once had, yet Aaric wasn’t sure if they could consider one another friends. “Don’t mess this up, Aaric.”

Aaric nodded. “I’ll keep them safe.”

Bran’s eyes looked pained. “Can you? We haven’t practiced combat enough. You still can’t fight as well as me.”

“We already discussed this, Bran,” Adaryn said, placing her hands on her hips. “Don’t worry about us. Grace may be a pompous, conceited windbag of a woman, but she’s going to be fine. Worry about yourself. You need to properly distract the guards and help Sirius with the riot. If anyone can get out of such a tangled mess, it’ll be you. Just be careful.”

Bran stood in the open doorway a moment longer, then turned and left. Adaryn stared at where he stood a moment before, her brow creased with worry.

“He cares for you.” It passed Aaric’s lips before he could stop himself.

Adaryn turned to look at him, a confused look on her face. “Of course he does. We’re clan. I care for him too. Not like that,” she added hastily at Aaric’s expression. She turned toward the door again, tapping her chin in thought. “I think he loved me at some point, and I suppose he might still, a little. But Bran has changed, and I think he’s also found I’m not the girl I was before capture.”

Aaric stepped forward, wrapping Adaryn in an embrace, hugging her tightly to him. He breathed in her woodsy scent, closing his eyes. This was a mad plan, and extremely dangerous, but if it worked . . .

“If anything goes wrong, anything at all, promise me you’ll get out,” he said, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Everything is going to be fine, Aaric,” she said, drawing away just enough to peer up at him. “I dislike Grace—a lot, I might add, but her plan is a good one, and should work. It’ll be three against one. Matias is going down.”

Aaric nodded silently and tightened his arms almost convulsively around her. If he lost her, it was all over.

“Don’t worry, Aaric.” Adaryn stood on her toes, her lips brushing his. “We’ll get out of this together, and take the sky jewel with us.”

Aaric looked down at the frail nomad, her blue eyes earnest, her hair a wild mess. She was right. They would get the sky jewel. They had to. If not, he really did plan on turning himself in to Oisin, because a life without Adaryn would be no life at all.

“
M
aybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” I lifted my flimsy skirts, hurrying after Grace. The voluptuous woman was beside me, striding fearlessly down the palace halls, blonde head held high. Her hair was piled up in an intricate collection of curls. Her dress was made of a green silk that was striking when matched with her complexion, though cut much too low, showcasing her ample cleavage. She held a black parasol, and with her free hand, waggled her fingers in dismissal at my comment.

“Don’t be such a chicken liver; this plan is flawless.”

I clutched the front of my silk skirts, willing my heartbeat to steady as I strode with Grace down the corridor. Aaric took the lead, back stiff. He kept scrubbing a hand through his sandy brown hair, making it stand on end. He appeared to be as nervous as I was.

I tripped on my skirt hem, and, catching myself, looked down at my dress in distaste. The red was a good color on me—Aaric had said so—but I was uncomfortable in it regardless. As it belonged to Grace, the neckline was much too low for decency. I sighed. It still didn’t show much of anything; I was definitely at a disadvantage there, compared to Grace.

Grace turned, frowning disapprovingly at me. “We haven’t all day. Come!”

I quickly caught up with her, making sure the hood of the dark brown cloak covered me. I hadn’t the slightest idea why Grace would bring something so warm to Sen Altare, but it would help hide my identity. Grace had covered my face in powders and rouge. She hadn’t been sure what to do with my hair, so she had pulled it back from my face, tying it in a silk scarf to hide most of it. It wasn’t a foolproof disguise, but if I kept my eyes down and didn’t talk, it should work.

A couple of servants stood at the end of the hall, eyeing us curiously. One spoke as we neared them. “State your name and your business.”

On reaching them, Aaric cleared his throat nervously. “I am Aaric Wright, son of Baldwin Wright, from the northern city of Ruis.” He motioned to Grace and I. “I bring the illustrious King Matias two gifts, gifts I believe he will find—” Aaric’s voice sounded a little strangled, “—to his liking.”

One of the servants nodded, opened the door, and told us to follow him. I exchanged glances with Grace. The servant didn’t act surprised.

“Do you think he’s ever turned away ‘gifts,’ before?” I whispered.

Grace glanced at me, amused. “Turn down a beauty like me? Not likely.”

I brought my thoughts inward, blocking Grace’s chatter, and thought of Bran. His part in this was to distract the guards and open the gates for the mob that Sirius was going to stir up. He didn’t tell me how he planned to do it, and I was worried about him. The three of us had been allowed through the gates after stating our intentions, but I hadn’t seen a sign of Bran anywhere on the castle grounds.

We followed the servant through the maze of winding corridors and halls until I felt thoroughly lost and unsure of my direction. I wanted to walk next to Aaric, but Grace had made it very clear that in order for the ruse to work, he needed to act distant and unattached. She also said we were supposed to act shy and modest. I stifled my laughter, putting a hand to my mouth as I watched Grace march along confidently. I suspected she’d forgotten to take her own advice.

Aaric stopped walking so suddenly Grace and I almost ran into him.

I realized the servant had stopped, standing in front of a wooden door inlaid with silver. He conversed with another servant standing outside the door, and after disappearing in the room for a moment, came out and addressed us. “His Majesty will see you now.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as a wave of apprehension washed over me. I tugged on my hood, making sure Matias wouldn’t be able to see my face. Grace fussed with a curl that had come loose before turning to me. “Stop twitching, girl.” She smiled. “You actually look quite lovely—for a rover.”

“Let’s go,” Aaric interrupted, and I turned to face him. His jaw was clenched, his gray eyes determined. He had given his sword up to the servant on request. Fortunately, our plan didn’t require steel. It did, however, require Grace and I getting very close to the king. I was glad that Grace had come. She was a much better actress than I. If Grace’s Fire Dust worked, this really wouldn’t be too difficult. Matias would be temporarily blind and in too much pain to fight back. I eyed the Oppressor. I wasn’t sure where she hid the pouch of powder and knowing Grace, I probably didn’t want to.

I took a deep breath and standing behind Aaric, walked through the doorway.