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

BOOK: Broken Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 3)
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8
Adaryn

 


Y
our Majesty.”

Aaric played his part beautifully. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head slightly, giving his name and reason for coming.

Matias was lounging on a plush sofa reading a book with two women I didn’t recognize seated next to him. One held a drink for him while the other rubbed his back. I tried not to grind my teeth. We didn’t know each other very well, true, but he should have told me he had multiple women. Curse the man!

I quickly scanned the rest of the room. There weren’t any guards. Matias was confident in his magical abilities.

The dark haired king sat up when we entered, looking decidedly bored. His blue eyes flickered when they passed over my face, and I felt my heart skip with nerves, but then his gaze passed on and I remembered he wouldn’t be able to see my face in the deep hood. He turned to the two women and spoke to them, too softly for me to hear. They both rose in graceful movements and left the room. I tried not stare. Their dresses were made of a clinging silk so thin I doubted even Grace would wear them.

Grace smiled at the king, her eyes taking on a seductive look. I rolled my eyes at her dramatics and decided she probably wouldn’t mind thin silks after all. She was the only one excited to be here.

Aaric finished speaking, kneeling silently. Matias walked past him to Grace, looking down at her. “A beautiful woman,” he remarked, lifting a hand to brush a blonde curl back behind Grace’s ear. I snuck a glance at her. Grace was positively beaming.

Matias smiled at her before his gaze moved over to me.

“Hello, Adaryn,” he said simply.

So much for secrecy.

Aaric moved faster than thought, pulling a long, wicked dagger from his boot, and lunged at the king.

Matias whirled to face him and slammed the magic between them. Aaric staggered backward and regained his footing, circling the king.

With an angry snarl, Matias launched a force of blinding white light, flinging Aaric through the air to crash into the far wall, his knife clattering to the ground a few paces from him.

My heart clenched in fear, seeing Aaric lay there. Concentrating my magic, I shattered the wall of energy Matias had placed around himself. I leapt at the king with a summoned spear of enchantment. An identical spear appeared in the king’s hands. He swatted my efforts away with ease and disarmed me within a few moments. My spear shivered away into nothing when I lost contact with it.

Matias grabbed me by the arm and threw me to the floor. “How could you?” he roared. I tried to summon the magic again, but Matias snatched the threads away from me, leaving me defenseless. “You betrayed me. After everything I did for you. The magic lessons I gave you!” Matias’ face was twisted in anger, his eyes like two polished pinpoints of blue steel. I skittered away from him like a crab, unwilling to turn my back on the livid magic wielder.

“I betrayed you?” I exclaimed, incredulous. I didn’t dare look in Aaric’s direction, and desperately hoped he was still alive. The thought that he might be dead because of Matias filled me with rage. “You betrayed me, betrayed everyone, Matias.”

I was backed up to the now closed door. The servant had fled from his post and was nowhere in sight.

“Don’t try and make this about my subjects, Adaryn,” Matias growled. He started to walk toward me, and was promptly smacked upside the head with a black parasol.

“Get your hands off her!” Grace shrieked, smacking him again. She had a wild light in her eyes and her face was flushed. “Get away, you idiot, you—” She pulled a small pouch from the front of her dress, fumbling at the drawstrings. “You’ll be sorry.”

Matias picked her up with the magic and flung her against the wall. She crumpled beside Aaric.

I stood quickly, calling the magic. I threw it at Matias who leapt of out the way. Magic pulsed from him as he faced me again, face grim.

“I was going to marry you, Adaryn.” His voice was cold. “And this is how you repay me.”

“Marry you?” I spat. “Where on earth did you get an idea like that? Besides,” I glared at him, “you didn’t tell me you had a harem, you wretch.”

Matias tossed his head angrily, midnight hair falling around his face. “Why mention it? They are of no consequence, merely there to serve my needs. But you, you were different. You could wield magic, like me.”

We were circling each other now. He the attacker, me the prey. I didn’t know what to do. We’d hoped to take him by surprise, but it was now the other way around.

“Magic users are so rare down here,” he said, still watching me. “Yes, I have other women. But they lack the spirit, compassion, and fire that I’ve seen in you. They lack the magic. You would be able to give me an heir, someone worthy to take my place.”

“You would have me produce an heir for you?” I scoffed. “For a man who lies and cheats, who bullies and murders? Never.”

Matias’ face hardened as he wove the enchantment, wrapping it around me until I was immobile. I struggled against the bonds, trying to cut them with my own magic, but pitting my power against his was like a kitten fighting a lion.

Matias smiled coldly, coming closer to me. “I hate to do this.” He was so close I could feel his breath on my face. “But sand cats can’t be tamed.”

My heartbeat raced in fear as he formed a thin blue blade. I hammered against the bonds. I had tried to defeat him, my magic against his, and failed. It was over.

9
Bran

 

S
tanding in the shadows of the stables, Bran watched a couple of guards march by. He smiled to himself. Even if they looked right at him, they wouldn’t be able to see him. Weaving a spell of shadow and light, Bran was practically invisible.

He bit his lip, thinking. With the help of some Guild members, he had spread enough stories about Matias that the people in Sen Altare were in a lather of angry emotions, but with the guards holding the castle, they couldn’t get in. The soldiers quit patrolling the streets after the last group of them had been torn apart by the mobs that now overran the city.

Grace and the other two would be in the castle by now, possibly already with the king, and from the dull roar that rose and fell beyond the walls, it sounded like Sirius’ mob had gathered. It was time.

Bran needed to open the gates. He silently stalked to the stables entrance and went inside. A few stable hands were there, pitching hay, and wouldn’t have noticed the nomad even if he hadn’t wrapped the magic around himself.

Summoning more enchantment, Bran hurtled a large ball of blue flames over the heads of the two stable hands to land in a pile of hay. The flames greedily consumed the dry hay in a matter of moments, and flared up to lick the walls and loft.

The two men cried out in shock. One ran to free the horses while the other ran outside, calling for help. Not a moment to spare.

Bran sprinted over to the nearest stall, taking care to keep the shadows around him. The bay gelding he approached couldn’t see him, but could sense him and whinnied in fear, shying away.

Leaping onto the horse’s back, Bran forced the bay out of its stall with a nudge of his knees and headed for the stable’s exit. Smoke began to fill the interior, and the remaining horses could be heard screaming and stamping at the smell as the stable hand flung stall doors open.

Bran urged the bay to a gallop, hooves thundering toward the large castle gates, their glossy, iridescent surface hard and impenetrable, shut tight all morning, opening once only for Aaric and the women.

Bran reached in himself, through himself, to the strands of enchantment he felt in the sky. There was magic everywhere, if one just knew how to look.

Dropping the shadows from him, Bran ignored the guards who could see him now. They shouted to each other, some running to meet him at the gate, as if a single man could open those massive gates alone. Bran smiled. He could.

Pulling strands of magic from the earth and sky, Bran redirected the elemental energy to the gates. A combination of fire and wind hammered at the gates, causing them to shiver and bend. Earth rose with a groan, forcing the gates to finally crumble and collapse.

Bran swayed, feeling nauseous and exhausted from the amount of magic he’d used, but he pushed it away. He didn’t have time to feel sick.

A triumphant roar rose to greet him as he rode past the shattered gates and into the city. The people poured through the gates and onto the castle grounds. Bran slid from his horse, almost falling to the ground when hands from the mob reached out to steady him. He blinked blearily and found himself looking at Sirius and Luna.

“Good work, rover,” Sirius laughed. “I didn’t know you had such power in you.” He surveyed the destroyed gates with immense satisfaction. “Now to defeat the king!”

Sirius disappeared into the surging crowd. Bran made as if to follow him, but Luna grabbed him by the sleeve, tugging him back. “You need sleep, young man,” she insisted. “You look dead on your feet.”

“I can’t,” he protested. “I need to find Grace.” He stopped short, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Had he just called Adaryn Grace?

Luna clucked her tongue with irritation, muttering something about men and their stubbornness, and pressed a bottle of something into Bran’s hand.

“What is it?” Bran asked, eyeing it warily.

“An elixir I made. It will restore your energy.”

Bran pulled out the stopper and drank. She was right. For a wonder, Bran’s exhaustion melted away, and a feeling of vigor replaced it.

“Thank you.” He pushed the empty bottle back to Luna and turned to the castle, grunting with irritation. Adaryn. He needed to find Adaryn. Grace was a beauty and had a fine wit, but . . . “Nonsense,” he snorted. “Not a chance.”

10
Aaric

 

P
ushing himself up to his hands and knees, Aaric shook his head groggily. He blinked, his vision coming into focus. Where was he?

Adaryn cried out in terror and Aaric’s head snapped up in alarm. Matias was towering over her, a conjured blade in his hand. Adaryn struggled against the glowing bonds that held her, but it did no good.

Aaric’s face contorted in a snarl, and he started to stand when he felt a grip on his shirt hem.

“Here.” Miss Grace was on the floor, lying on her side, a bruise swelling on the side of her face, but her eyes were bright as she shoved the black parasol in his hand. “It’s a sword too, you know,” she whispered. “Don’t let him hurt her.”

Aaric frowned, taking the parasol. With a small tug, the handle came off from the rest of it, exposing a long, thin blade.

“Go,” Miss Grace whispered urgently. Aaric stood and quietly walked toward Matias. The king lifted his sword, and Aaric rushed at him, desperate to stop any harm from befalling Adaryn.

Adaryn’s eyes met his, widening in surprise. It proved to be what saved Matias, who whirled around to face whatever his captor saw.

Aaric swept the blade horizontally, going for Matias’ throat. The king recoiled, but not before Aaric’s sword cut through the thin, silver chain that encircled the king’s neck. A shard of glittering blue flew through the air, bouncing off the tile floor.

Matias snarled and lunged in the direction of the shard, but was forced to turn and parry Aaric’s onslaught. The bonds melted from Adaryn’s body.

Aaric jabbed, swiped, and blocked, moving quickly, as he tried to remember everything Bran had taught him. Matias’ expression was one of concentration as he defended himself, sweat beading on his forehead.

“You fight like a magic user,” he said to Aaric. The king’s tone was almost conversational, but there was a tightness around his eyes that said he wouldn’t hesitate to kill the first moment he got. “Strange. Most people hate my kind, do they not?”

Adaryn summoned a pale blue staff, and together she and Aaric fought Matias into a corner. Peculiar, Aaric thought, as he defended himself from a few of Matias’ strikes. Something had changed about the king. He was still using magic, that much was apparent by the weapon he wielded, but he was no longer using his magic to throw people about like he had previously. Why was that?

He thought of the blue shard that had fallen, and his eyes widened with realization. The sky jewel.

Matias swiped at his head, and Aaric ducked just in time, wind whistling overhead.

The king was panting as heavily as Aaric, his face tense with concentration and anger. Even with Adaryn’s help, they were at a stalemate. It was a matter of who tired first—and Aaric’s arms felt like they were getting heavier by the second.

The door banged open, and Aaric’s heart sank. They wouldn’t be able to fight off any guards that came to Matias’ rescue.

Bran stepped into his view, and for the first time, Aaric was overjoyed to see the tall nomad.

Adaryn quickly moved out of the way to make room for Bran, who already had a sword in hand, blue fire flickering on the edges.

He leapt in where Adaryn had stood and within a few moments disarmed Matias and held the point of the blade at his throat. Matias was breathing hard, glaring daggers at the people around him, hate twisting his features.

“So it’s war, is it?” Matias glared at Aaric. “Adaryn said you came from the North. The city of Ruis wants to take control of the South, I see.”

“This has nothing to do with Ruis, Matias.” Sirius entered the room, along with several members of the Guild. Bran didn’t move, his sword still at Matias’ throat, but Aaric turned to look at the older man. Sirius looked furious, his mustache practically bristling.

“Your rule is over, Matias,” Sirius continued, two particularly large Guild members flanking him. “You’re done terrorizing the people for your own selfish needs. The good people of Sen Altare have overrun your palace, and ousted your guards.” Matias’ face was unreadable. He merely stood there, his chin up and arms crossed.

Aaric turned to search for the sky jewel, but couldn’t see it. His heart began to thud. Where did it go? He heard female voices conversing and glanced up to see Adaryn and Miss Grace just a few feet away.

“Hand it over, Grace, I know you have it.”

The blonde woman sniffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Adaryn hissed angrily. “Yes, you do, you liar. I saw you take it!”

The sky jewel. Thank heaven. Aaric strode over to face the blonde woman, leaving Sirius and Matias behind. “Miss Grace,” he whispered hurriedly. “Please. I need the sky jewel badly.”

Miss Grace pouted prettily, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulders.

“Please?” Aaric said earnestly. He knew Adaryn was ready to wrestle the woman to the ground and take it by force, but hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Miss Grace looked at him a moment before sighing regretfully. “I suppose you do need it more than I do. It really is quite pretty, though.”

She reached down the front of her dress and pulled out the blue shard. Aaric felt his ears burn as she passed it to him. Adaryn growled, folding her arms and glaring at Grace.

Aaric looked down at the jewel. It appeared to be made of glass. It was a nearly opaque blue and glowed with a pulsating light in its center.

“That’s it.” Adaryn peered at the stone. “I can feel it. Shades alive, that’s why Matias was so unbelievably powerful.”

“Mr. Wright,” Sirius called. Aaric hastily stuffed the stone in his pocket and turned to face the Guild leader. He’d been so distracted that only now he realized Matias and Bran were nowhere to be seen.

“Your friend helped escort the prisoner to the dungeons,” Sirius replied when Aaric asked about Bran’s whereabouts. The Guild leader looked around the chamber, obviously liking what he saw. “I suppose I shall stay here for a while, until we can get new leadership figured out.”

Aaric hid his smile. He had no doubt who Sirius meant by that.

Several minutes later, Aaric, Adaryn, and Miss Grace left, returning to the Guild. Adaryn looked exhausted. Miss Grace did too, but that didn’t stop her from chattering nonstop.

“Bran played his part perfectly. Setting fire to the stables wasn’t something I would have thought of, but it caused quite an uproar with the guards, I daresay. None of them came to help Matias.”

Aaric stayed quiet. He suspected Matias had been confident in the strength the sky jewel gave him, and that was almost certainly the reason for the lack of guards in his quarters.

Once inside the Guild, Miss Grace turned to them. “Anyway, my plan didn’t turn out as bad as all that.” She yawned dramatically, then winced, putting a hand to her bruised face. “What I need is a bath.” She turned to leave.

“Grace.” Adaryn spoke, and Miss Grace froze, looking wary. Adaryn looked down at her feet. “I . . . I want to thank you . . . for trying to help me, when Matias . . .” She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Miss Grace looked uncomfortable as well, and waved a hand, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I assure you I did it for myself. I wasn’t going to let you take all of the king’s attention.”

Rolling her eyes, Adaryn shrugged. “Whatever the reason, thank you.”

Miss Grace smoothed her skirts, refusing to make eye contact with the nomad. She turned to leave when Adaryn spoke again. “I recall you saying once that you didn’t hit people. That it was ‘uncivilized’.” Adaryn tried to keep her face expressionless, but her lips twitched.

Grace smiled. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. King Matias was being a complete dunderhead.” She tilted her head a little, eyeing Adaryn. “You’re not as horrible an individual as I once thought, I suppose. Your hair is still dreadful, though.”

Adaryn’s eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth, no doubt ready to give Miss Grace a piece of her mind, but the young woman had already turned her back on them, walking down a side hall.

Aaric chuckled. “I’ll have to be sure to be on her good side anytime she wields a parasol.” Adaryn grinned, despite her irritation with the other woman, then staggered. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Using her magic had drained her.

Aaric scooped her up, despite her protests, and carried her to her room, helping her into bed. He sat on the edge of her mattress, pulling the sky jewel out of his pocket. It hadn’t stopped its faint glowing.

“I think it does that all the time,” Adaryn said after staring at it for a while. “Incredible. I hadn’t really stopped to consider if the story about the sky jewels was real or not, but I’m beginning to think they’re true. There may be a sky dragon out there after all.”

“I know one thing.” Aaric gave her a triumphant smile. “We won.”

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