The Last Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (27 page)

Emmeline flew through the dark corridor,
making no effort to brush her hands along the cold wall for a guide. Every dark turn was familiar to her, but she would never enter it again. She would never go to the stables again either. She’d have to forget Erick. Searing pain burned through her chest and she tumbled to her knees. She realized then that she loved him and that she’d never forget him. There was no denying her feelings any longer. An unbelievable ache filled her body with the revelation. She loved him and yet she could never be with him.

Her hands reached up to cover her face as she sobbed. Everything
seemed to be caving in on her, her life falling apart all around her. She cried now as she had never cried before. She cried for her father’s dire situation, for Mahlon’s cruelty and overwhelming demands, for the Crown Prince whose life rested in her hands, and for the King she would kill with grief.

But her real
anguish lay deeper. She cried for the love she had found with Erick, a love that would never grow into anything beautiful. She cried for the pain she had caused him when she pushed him away and for the longing she would feel for him for the rest of her life.

Time passed in a haze and Emmeline longed for a warm bed to
disappear into. Gathering her skirts, she rose to her feet and finished the long walk to her bedchambers. Adelia was there when she arrived, so Emmeline kept her face down, hoping Adelia wouldn’t notice her puffy eyes and tear streaked face. But the startling crash of a tray falling to the floor told Emmeline her efforts had been in vain.

“
My Lady, what happened? Adelia asked.

“I’m just feeling a little under the weather,” Emmeline
said. “You were right about the library. I have a pounding headache. I don’t think I’ll be going back anytime soon.”

“What can I do to help
? Would you like a warm drink to soothe you? Or perhaps a bath? Or a cold towel for your head? Please, let me help you.”

Her eyes we
re filled with genuine concern and Emmeline was once again grateful for Adelia’s never failing kindness. If only she could be sure her of her loyalties. Without Erick, Emmeline was truly alone.

“
I just want to retire for the evening. Thank you for everything, Adelia.”

Still
in her full dress and underskirts, Emmeline collapsed onto her bed. Adelia fussed around her for awhile, clicking her tongue at the state of Emmeline’s gown and trying to convince her to change into something more comfortable. But Emmeline insisted Adelia leave her as she was. She needed to be alone before her controlled façade crumbled.

At the click of the door closing, Emmeline rolled onto her stomach and let every feeling of pain a
nd remorse consume her, break her. She’d repair herself tomorrow, but tonight she needed to trudge through the full course of turmoil. She had ignored it for far too long.

She crie
d until her body gave out, drained of emotion, and weak with fatigue. Yet she couldn’t sleep. Her body curled in on itself as the moon traveled across the sky. Mind numbing blackness swirled in her mind but never clouded it completely. She couldn’t get the relief she needed to heal.

The palace was
lifeless for most of the night until a sound from far off drummed in her ears. It echoed off the marble halls and stopped right in front of her door. The lock rattled. Not tonight, she thought. Any night, but tonight.

“Get up,” Mahlon said as he pulled Emmeline from her bed.

Emmeline
fell to the floor, her body past its breaking point. She searched within herself for an ounce of strength, but came up empty.

“Please,” she said.
“Not tonight.”

Mahlon’s lips curled up in a malicious grin. “Are you
feeling vulnerable tonight, Emmeline? That may work to my advantage.”

Emmeline pushed up on her
hands. “What do you want?”

“What I always want. You.
”

“No.” Emmeline g
rimaced. It had sounded more like a plea than a statement.

Mahlon laughed. “Perfect! This couldn’t have worked out better.”

He laughed again and pulled her up from her elbow, twisting her arms behind her back, and pushing her down the corridor.

He carried her more than she walked, her legs giving out every few steps. She knew where they were going
and knew she would have to withstand his abuse or he would control her. She labored to find the endurance she would need to sustain her. Why did it have to come to this? Would there always be someone seeking to control her, either through the orders they gave, or by force?

Mahlon dragged her outside and tossed her into a black carriage. She
pulled herself up onto the cushions. The carriage lurched forward, sending her sprawling for balance.

“Where are we going?” she
said over the rumble of wheels and hooves. They had never taken a carriage to the fire site before. It seemed even more ridiculous than taking a horse. A spring of hope lightened her heavy chest. Perhaps they weren’t going to the fire site. Perhaps her strength wouldn’t be tried after all.

“The Crown Prince announced his arrival for tomo
rrow before sunset. You will wed within a fortnight.”

“Then why are we leaving? I thought I was supposed to kill him so you could have your war.”

“Hush!” Mahlon looked out the window into the black night. He leaned closer. “Only a select few are privy to that information. You will not speak of it so openly.”

Emmeline
scowled.

“O
ur arrangement is still intact, concerning your father and the Crown Prince. I had hoped to wait until after the completion of your assignment to use you in this capacity, but it cannot wait any longer. The Crown Prince took too long to return and Pamizak has grown weary. They have sent a unit of men to investigate our intentions.”

“And what will they fi
nd?”

Mahlon grinned. “They will find you, my dear, working for us.”

“No, they won’t.”

“I’m afraid they will. I can see it in your eyes, Emmeline. Tonight I will own you. For whatever reason, your strength has deserted you.”

Emmeline held up her chin, trying her best to minimize the trembling. He was right, however; she had nothing left in her.

Mahlon pulled
a lantern from underneath the cushion and lit the wick. A small flame burst to life. He held it up, the taunting glow illuminating his face.

“It is small, I know, much smaller than anything we’ve tried before, but why do I have the feeling
this will be all we’ll need this time?”

Emmeline turne
d her gaze to the black forest. The tiny flame reflected on the window’s glass, beckoning her to look as its heat slithered into her body and curled up in her chest. Alarmed, Emmeline closed her eyes. But even that tiny act of defiance seemed to devour the last of her willpower.

The carriage pitched and Mahlon was suddenly at her side, his breath against her neck. He pushed her shoulders forward and twisted her arms behind her back, binding them at the wrists. She wanted to resist, she wanted to push back,
she wanted to fight, but her body wouldn’t support her.

The lantern was at her face now, the
warmth pulsing from the glass. Emmeline whimpered against the heat flooding her body. Why couldn’t she keep it from flowing into her? How could one small flame have so much effect on her?

Small streams of tingling heat coursed over her shoulders and down her back, the heat
in her chest growing with each beat of her heart. She shook her head to release the pressure, but it only increased. She couldn’t hold off much longer. As much as her mind wanted to fight, her body wouldn’t let her.

Emmeline’s eyes fluttered open.
A surge of fiery heat left her chest, but instead of traveling to her hands, which were still bound, it exploded behind her eyes. A flash of piercing white light illuminated the carriage.

Mahlon fixed
his eyes on hers and then it was all over. The carriage was thrown into darkness and Emmeline collapsed onto the seat.

“
Let’s see what you can do,” Mahlon said, lighting the lantern that had sputtered out. “Stop the carriage, Emmeline.”

“
What!” Emmeline said. But her body was already moving. She opened the door, and thrust her hand into the night, her arm giving against the moving air. She drew in heat from the lantern flame and felt it travel through her body and release from her outstretched hand. The horses squealed and buckled under the heated pressure she pushed upon them. She tried to pull her arm back, not wanting to harm the animals, but it refused to comply. She had no choice; she had to obey Mahlon’s command.

S
he redirected her power to the wheels of the carriage. If she had to obey, she could at least choose how to fulfill the command. The wooden spokes burst apart and the carriage lurched to the side. Emmeline pulled her arm back just as the door smashed against the ground and the carriage came to a shuttering halt.

C
rumpled on the smashed side of the carriage, Emmeline pushed up on her hands. Her arms buckled and she fell back onto the broken glass and splintered wood. She didn’t think it was possible, but she felt more tired and more worn than she had before.

Mahlon’s shrill lau
ghter filled the confined space. “Finally! All is won. Dolmerti will never want again.”

Emmeline
grimaced. She turned her head to glare at him. Shards of glass dug into her cheek, but she didn’t have the strength to care. She was so tired, so very tired.

The
door above them wrenched open and Mahlon jumped out, his laughter echoing into the chill of the night. A pair of arms reached in and pulled Emmeline from the wreckage. They weren’t the arms of a soldier, with the armory of Dolmerti covering them. They were the arms of a man cloaked in red, the hood falling over his face.

Emmeline sh
ivered. She hated the sight of red cloaks. She squirmed in the man’s arms, desperate to be set free, but her efforts were in vain. Her diminished strength was no match for his solid hold.

He
carried her to the side of the road and laid her on the grass. Tucking an extra cloak around her shoulders, he brought a corner of the cloth up to her wounded cheek and wiped the blood from her skin. Without a word, he pressed his hands over her eyes and walked away.

Emmeline awoke on horseback with someone sitting in the saddle behind her. It was still dark, or had become dark again, and they were galloping down the road, dozens of soldiers flanking them. The wind bit into her wounds and made her eyes water, so she closed her eyes and let fatigue wash over her once more.

The next time her eyes opened, it was
day and the sun was shining through a brown canvas stretched above her. It appeared to be a makeshift tent, the slit door flapping in the breeze. The canvas protected her from the elements, but nothing was underneath her other than long blades of grass. A spider scurried onto her leg and she flicked it off.

Emmeline
sat up, rubbing her eyes. How long had she been asleep? Her eyelids were heavy and her limbs felt like stone. She rubbed her eyes again and ran a hand through her hair. It was tangled and knotted. Using her fingers she brushed through the strands and twisted it into a loose braid. It would have to do.

A shuffle outside the tent
caught her attention and Emmeline perked up. A pair of whispers floated her way, but the flapping canvas made it difficult to understand them.

“
The possibilities are endless,” Mahlon whispered.

“…
idiot. She…rest…die.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“…care… witch.”

“I know, I know.”

They walked away and Emmeline fell back onto the ground, exhaustion taking over whether she wanted it to or not.

When she awoke, it was night and the flapping canvas had fallen flat. Her body felt somewhat rejuvenated
, so she rolled onto her hands and knees and eased herself onto her feet. Lifting the canvas, she stepped into the cool air. A roaring fire caught her attention. She trudged toward it, one foot in front of the other, until she found herself slumped on a log, her hands stretched toward the flames.

“You are not to use
your power here,” Mahlon said quickly.

She heard the commanding timbre
of his voice. She had to obey.

Emmeline’s mouth formed a
tight line and her brows furled together. She looked around the fire. All the soldiers were looking at her, studying her, satisfying their curiosity, or so it seemed. They were no longer afraid to look, or more likely, no longer at risk of becoming her master.