Shadow Heir Page 48



ROOM IS UNDERGROUND. SCOUT IS INVESTIGATING.


Cryptic but promising overall, I decided. I was about to give the bird a return message when I suddenly heard the lock being opened on my door.


“Get out of here!” I told Spots. “Come back ... er, later.”


He was already up in the window before I could finish talking and wiggled his way out through the bars just as some guards entered. Their faces were grim. One jerked my hands forward while another bound them with chains.


“Her Majesty wants you. Now.”


For a moment, I thought the time I’d been dreading had come. Varia was going to give me some terrible ultimatum. Yet, something about her and her flair for the dramatic told me there would have been a lot of setup and fanfare. This had a hurried feel. An urgency, like something was wrong.


The feeling further intensified when I wasn’t marched to the throne room. Instead, I was taken to Varia’s own chambers, shoved roughly inside a posh sitting room done entirely in periwinkle velvet. Varia was there, lounging on a divan, looking as though she’d gotten out of bed in the last hour. She wore a robe that matched the room, as well as some furry slippers. Her brown hair was worn down but didn’t look like it had been brushed. She stayed in that reclined position, as though trying to present an unconcerned air, but the anger in her voice betrayed her when she saw me.


“Where are they?” she demanded. The dogs were at her feet and began yipping. She silenced them with some treats.


I glanced around, looking for some kind of assistance or context for her question. “Um, where are what?”


“The people you traveled here with.” She sat up and fixed me with a glare so icy that it was easy to see her as the blight’s creator. “Where are they, and how in the world did you break them out?”


Chapter 21


I said the first thing that came to mind.


“Sooo ... you lost them?”


Varia glared, not nearly as serene and commanding as she’d been yesterday. “This is not a game! Tell me how you accomplished it. You are still in possession of your powers. How did you escape and set them free?”


I put my hands on my hips. “I may still have my powers, but I’m also being kept in a locked room surrounded by guards and magic users! The kind of magic I’d need to escape would involve me blowing out the door, and I think someone would’ve probably noticed that. Besides, why the hell would I then go back to my cell? I would’ve walked out with my friends.”


“I don’t believe you,” said Varia. “No one can escape those dungeons. They must have had assistance.” The dogs started their racket again. More treats.


I shrugged and tried not to look too smug. “My friends are pretty resourceful. Maybe your security’s not as good as you think.”


Inside, I was jubilant. Jasmine and the others had gotten away! At a basic level, I was simply happy they were safe. In the greater scheme of things, it also meant my hands were no longer tied. I could summon a storm right now and have no fears of retribution. Of course, that would be pre-emptive since the rest of my plan wasn’t yet fully developed. The more I studied Varia, though, the more it became obvious I wasn’t the only one who’d reached this conclusion about my new freedom.


“I wouldn’t be so arrogant if I were you,” she said. “As I said before, I hold a lot more game pieces than you do and control a lot that’s dear to you.”


I kept my face neutral, but inside, my heart was racing. I remembered her previous lists of threats. Right now, my friends were off the table, and I sincerely doubted she’d found Isaac and Ivy. What did that leave? My kingdoms. She was pissed off enough about the escape to do something drastic, and nightmare scenarios ran through my mind. What if she blasted one kingdom to show me she was serious about the other? There was a staggering amount of innocent lives in my hands, and if she did attempt to hurt them, I really would blow her apart now, storm or no storm.


Varia smiled cruelly. “Soon you’ll see just how much I control when—oh, for the gods’ sake! Get them out of here!”


Her moment of drama had been derailed when those wretched little dogs began barking again. A servant quickly scooped them up and scurried out of the room. She swore when one of them bit her.


“Now then.” Varia nodded toward a guard. “Bring him in.”


The guard gave a curt salute and hurried out the door. He returned a moment later with a prisoner—Dorian.


Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d gotten an early wake-up call. Dorian looked a little worn around the edges but otherwise showed no signs of injury or distress. Indeed, he wore his typically indolent look, as though he’d wanted to come here in chains and Varia had been kind enough to oblige him. His eyes flicked briefly to me before focusing on Varia. He gave her one of his charming smiles.


“Your Majesty. How nice of you to call me to breakfast. And I must say, you look very fetching this morning. I’m always saying women don’t go to enough trouble to match their décor. I also always say that brushes are overrated. Right, Eugenie?”


I didn’t answer, mostly because I was too preoccupied with what Varia’s next move was going to be. I didn’t think Dorian’s presence here was a good sign. She studied him for several long moments and then turned her attention back to me.


“I should not have given you the night to think things over,” she said crisply. “That was an indulgence on my part, one I won’t repeat. I want your fealty. I want the Iron Crown. If I don’t get them, I will execute the Oak King as part of my dinner entertainment later.”


I laughed in spite of myself. “You can’t kill him. You need him. You want him to sign his kingdom over to you.” I didn’t know the exact details of yesterday’s conversation, but I had to assume she’d given him the same ultimatum about surrendering his kingdom to her. I also assumed he’d refused.


“True, it’s simpler when I have a land’s monarch on hand, but his is only one kingdom. His death will serve me better than his surrender. Someone else will simply claim the land, and although it may take longer this way, the Oak Land will become mine once that new king or queen swears allegiance.”


Dorian was still smiling, though there was a tightness in his features that hadn’t been there earlier. He narrowed his eyes. “Say what you want, but even if the lowest scullery maid in my castle seizes control of the land, she still won’t surrender to you. And Eugenie certainly isn’t going to yield the Iron Crown to your control simply for my sake. She doesn’t like me nearly that much. This is an absurd waste of time. Why don’t we all just sit down for a delightful morning meal of tea and pastries and put this absurdity behind us? Where are your charming pets, by the way?”


There was some truth to his words. I wasn’t going to give up the Iron Crown, even to save his life—but that decision wasn’t nearly as carefree as he made it sound. It was a head-over-heart choice, one that I knew accomplished the most good but which would probably kill me in the application.


“This is no joke. The Oak King will die if my request is denied. And,” Varia continued to me, “as I said, I’m not going to let you debate in luxury.”


Was my cell considered luxury? I really had to see what passed for dismal lodging around this place. Before I could question her further, a slight gesture from her brought a guard striding toward Dorian. In one smooth motion, he halted before Dorian and punched him hard in the stomach. Dorian doubled over, and a spasm of pain crossed his face, but he otherwise made no sound. Me, on the other hand ... well, I had a few things to say.


“You fucking bitch!” I exclaimed, straining forward. Guards were already in place to restrain my arms, probably having anticipated my reaction. “I am going to kill you!” Without further thought, I had drawn the magic of air and water around me. The room grew thick with humidity and tension. All I needed was a source to blast it into.


“Eugenie,” said Dorian sharply. All mirth was gone. “Do not do anything rash. You have a lot to think over.”


I met his eyes, which were greener than ever in the morning light streaming through Varia’s windows. I caught the subtext. If I unleashed my magic now, it would be without a well-formed plan. Again, I had a head vs. heart decision here, and my head’s argument didn’t seem so compelling just then. Still, after a deep breath, I dropped my magic and fixed a glare on Varia.


“Perhaps the Oak King is more reasonable than I suspected,” she mused. She nodded toward the same guard again. He stepped forward and punched Dorian in the face, hard enough that I heard a thwack.


“Ow,” moaned Dorian, wincing from the pain. “My greatest asset.”


I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood. But I had to do something to stop myself from striking Varia down with lightning. “What is the point of this?” I asked Varia, once I had some semblance of control. “To convince me what a badass you are? That you can bully a chained-up man? Or is it just so I’ll believe you really will kill him?”


“Oh,” she said. “You can rest assured that I will kill him. Mostly this is to emphasize what I said before: no more time to lounge around and decide with no consequences. For every moment you waste deliberating today, the Oak King will be in the hands of my torturers, experiencing the most excruciating pain. Your delay extends that agony.”


“Oh, irony,” murmured Dorian.


I stiffened. This was not good news, first because I simply didn’t want Dorian suffering. What also sucked was that I was certain the torturers were not on the same floor as my cell, meaning I wouldn’t have Dorian on hand when I attempted my great coup. Jasmine and the others’ escape had given me one less variable to worry about inside the palace. Dorian being taken out of my sight was a brand-new complication.


Varia continued. “And believe me when I say that my professionals make Garik’s attempts here seem quite childish. No offense, Garik.” The punching guard gave a bow of acknowledgment to his queen. “Fortunately for the Oak King, his pain will be short-lived—either because you’ll make the right decision or I’ll be forced to kill him at suppertime.”

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