Chapter Nineteen

Alithea? What’s happening?” Aunt Astrid followed me down the winding stone steps into the Citadel proper. Pasha growled softly beside me, a quiet echo of my own righteous anger.

I sensed the growing crowd behind me, but I couldn’t hear them through the thick cloud of darkness that housed my rage.

“Come on.” Ben urged. “Let’s get you back upstairs. You’re looking a little rough, particularly around the eyes.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Your eyes are all red , Thea. It’s freaking everyone out.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Druan’s calloused voice hissed in my ear. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me back from the Citadel gates, but I fought him. I clawed at his arms with my sharp talons, not realizing my Valkyrie was so close to the surface. “You can’t help her, Thea. If you want to help her—or any of us—stay inside where it’s safe until you are stronger.”

“Hey man, don’t force her.”

I was vaguely aware of the anger in Ben’s voice, but my vision was colored red, like my world was bathed in blood.

“Let her go.” Vendela’s quiet tone was the only reasonable one among the frantic arguing. “She knows what she’s doing.”

She and Amara took their places at my side, wordlessly daring the men to stop them from leaving with me.

“It’s time we all trust her.” Vendela lifted her shield as Druan took a step back, releasing me.

I heard their words, but I was somewhere else—somewhere deep inside myself where the only thing I saw was my proud, regal mother, a captive of a ruthless enemy. “I may not have the power to fight Neela yet, but I will not stand by and let my mother suffer a moment longer.” My voice grated in my throat as I stepped through the grand gates of the Citadel, leaving the magic of Astrid’s protection behind.

“This is madness.” Druan and Ben, along with several other Valkyrie men stepped in front of me. Dragon fire licked at their feet as Amara snorted a warning for them to back off.

“The second she leaves the Citadel, Neela will know she has returned. The princess is not walking in there without protection,” Druan snapped back. “Let us go first.”

Liquid hot anger boiled inside me. These fools were keeping me from my queen held captive in her own home. I would not stand for it. The slick oily shadow of my magic welled up inside me, feeling unnatural and sickening. This time I didn’t care. “If you must.”

With Druan’s unit marching ahead, I walked along the pathway to the palace. My palace. A deceptive calm washed over me, drowning out the soldiers’ footsteps. I wore a mask of serenity, concealing the rage surging like a tempest inside me. The darkness of the gods’ power had won. It was in control and it only wanted one thing. Neela’s head on a pike.

Leaving the protection of the Citadel was like shining a spotlight on my return. Even the power of the gods stood up and took notice. Since my arrival, the power had slowly trickled in to refill the well inside me. Now that trickle became a torrent. I had very little time to act before Neela would respond.

As we crossed the bridge to the palace, Neela’s false guards formed up to block me at the gates. Once my mother’s men, they were now Neela’s prisoners. And just like in the battle, I could see the evidence of Neela’s magic that followed these men. Except this time the mark of her magic trailed behind them like streaks of blood.

These men had put up a struggle. I could see it in the violent magic that bound them. I would give them a chance to join me. One chance.

I might not yet be as powerful a vessel as Neela, but I was still a royal daughter of House Ahlstrom and my magic was strong. I wielded the burn like a sword, letting the hot slash of magic arc through the air, clawing through their ties to the enemy.

I barely registered their astonished faces before I was moving again.

“Stand down and let us pass.” Vendela’s voice rang out. “Your Queen Heir has returned. Join her now and your families will rest easy tonight inside the Citadel. Resist and you will not live to see your rightful queen on her throne.”

I stepped toward the palace gates, ignoring the murmurs of my mother’s guard. More than half of them lowered their weapons, but Neela’s magic began to reform. The trails of blood I’d severed shifted, strengthening the connection.

Once again, I let the burn of my magic fill me and slashed through the bonds holding my people against their will. Acting on instinct alone, I freed them, ignoring the foreign shadowy darkness that tainted my magic further. I feared what would happen when only the darkness remained.

“It’s Princess Alithea! She’s returned to save us.” My mother’s guard rejoiced. Joining my entourage, they abandoned their posts. But even in my rage, I took note of the few who slipped away to join the master they chose to serve. I wouldn’t forget their faces.

Once inside the palace, courtiers bolted in every direction, screaming in fear as my new soldiers cleared the way for me. They were nothing but a blur of colorful faces, but only a few were tainted by the blood of Neela’s magic. The rest were there by choice. I would deal with the traitors later.

“Find her.” I issued the order, not caring who carried it out as long as it was done. I was only vaguely aware of the sound of clashing swords behind me and the heat of Amara's fire clearing my path. No one stood in my way as I continued toward the dungeons. I took the winding stairs into the bowels of the castle. Only Druan and Vendela followed.

“It’s like she’s in some sort of fugue state.” Vendela snapped her fingers in front of my face, but I wouldn’t let her break my focus. “The red eyes are freaky, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was—”

“That is none of our business.” Druan’s words were a sharp warning.

I turned toward the sound of their voices, but my eyes slid right past them.

“Release the queen,” Vendela announced as I approached the deepest part of the dungeon.

“On whose orders?” A man dressed in the white and black livery of a Warder stood at his post in front of the cell door, but I now knew none of them were actual Warders. Just prisoners posing as those who could command prison worlds.

“The Queen Heir has returned,” Vendela announced.

“My queen is still in charge. I obey her. Even when I don’t particularly want to.” He scratched his scraggly beard, taking a stance against us. “You should know better than to face a Warder bound to his queen.”

But this man was no Warder and Neela wasn’t anyone’s queen. He was nothing but a prisoner with no magic to speak of. I could see the strength of the bloody bonds holding him to the false queen he’d served for too many years to count.

“Leave us.” My voice sounded strange to my ears.

The man took a step toward me but Vendela darted between us, raising her sword and shield to protect me.

The darkness churned inside me, coating my magic in its slick black oil. The Warder’s weapon arced down toward Vendela, but with a flick of my hand a burn seared across his face. His eyes grew bright from the pain.

“I said, leave us.” Pasha growled at my side, edging closer to the false Warder. I could see the fear in his eyes. He was just another victim. I severed his bonds, slicing through the years of magic Neela had forced on him.

The man sagged like a puppet with its strings cut. Without a word he left us in a daze, no longer caring about his master.

“How did she do that to a Warder?” Vendela turned wide eyes on me.

“He wasn’t a Warder. None of them are.” Druan’s voice grew incredulous. “Neela is here on her own.”

Ignoring their whispered conversation, I pressed my hand against the rough wooden door letting the burn seep into the surface until a wide hole replaced the door. The room was hardly a room at all. More of a closet—the mud walls, slick with moisture, reeked of mildew and filth. A single, worn bench rested in a corner where the queen slumped, chained to the wall. The room was so small, she could put her feet up on the opposite wall, but there wasn’t enough room to lie down. My mother had spent more than two years in this cramped cell.

White-hot rage surged anew at the sight of my mother, weak and out of her mind with fear.

“No, please. No more,” the queen whispered, her faint pulse visible at her slim throat. Her once golden blond hair was silver now, and shorn close to her scalp in places. Her eyes were hollow and unseeing.

I reached for the shackles binding her to the wall and they blazed like irons in the fire. A moment later they crumbled into dust. I took her hand in mine for a brief moment, but the pain and fear in her eyes was nearly my undoing.

I turned away, unable to look at my mother for the shame that consumed me. I stumbled back out of the cell, the weight of my grief and guilt more than I could bear.

“You can rest now, your Majesty. We’re leaving.” Druan lifted the queen’s frail form and carried her from her cell.

Still, I couldn’t see beyond the darkness burning up my soul. The tainted magic pulsed hot within me now as I led the way from the dungeon.

Back in the grand hall of the palace, chaos reigned. Courtiers had vanished and only my soldiers remained. Those who chose Neela over me now lay dead.

“Where is she?” I demanded of the room.

“The usurper, Majesty?” a young soldier asked with a curt bow. “She is in the council chambers. Upon your arrival we barred them inside.”

I nodded, gazing around at the aftermath of the fierce battle that had taken place here.

The soldier dropped to his knee, bowing his head. “We took precautions to protect you, my Queen Heir. But the usurper knows of your return by now.”

“Well done,” I murmured. Offering a brief, appreciative nod, I made my way up the stairs to the council chambers. Pasha padding along beside me. She nudged my hand to get my attention, but though my eyes took in all that had happened around me, my mind was somewhere else.

“Amara, please take my mother to the Citadel,” I called over my shoulder, sinking my taloned fingertips into Pasha’s fur. I was only vaguely aware that I’d partially shifted.

Druan and Vendela followed me up the stairs as Amara gathered the broken queen in her arms and fled the palace.

A moment later, I heard the flap of leathery wings and knew my mother was finally safe.

“Thea,” Druan murmured. “We need to leave if we’re going to make it out of here in once piece. We cannot afford to trade your mother for you.”

I nodded, but continued my slow march to the third floor of the palace. At my raised arms the burn swept through the wooden barrier the guards had placed and the council chamber doors burst open.

I stepped inside and six stunned faces stared back at me. Just as Neela called on her Warder magic, I lifted my hand and the slick black sludge that weighed on my magic swept across the room, latching onto Neela’s arms and binding the bold redheaded woman to her seat. The seat of power she had the audacity to steal for herself.

Neela cried out in pain as she moved, causing her skin to blister and burn around the magical bindings. “Alithea.” She titled her head in my direction. “I was just telling my council how you’ve returned just this minute.”

“I will deal with you another time, cousin.” My eyes slid over her, barely registering the woman who’d caused so much pain in my absence.

Pasha leapt onto the table and settled back on her haunches, releasing a ferocious growl in Neela’s face. She wasn’t going anywhere.

The well within me was far too empty and Neela’s was nearly full. Something in me hungered to drink from that well, but I couldn’t draw Neela’s attention to the power of the gods. I only let myself take a sip. Just to know I could do it.

Neela didn’t react to the infinitesimal siphoning.

“Thea?” A familiar voice reached me through the fog of my anger. I stared blankly at my grandmother’s pale face, unable to fathom how she could support any of this. But there she sat, free of Neela’s magic. Beside her sat Princess Svana, my aunt, the uncrowned queen of Vöstland. Traitor to me and my mother.

“You’ve returned.” My grandmother’s words fell on deaf ears. Clearly, she’d chosen a side and it wasn’t the right one.

“You have much to answer for, young lady.” One of the council elders reprimanded me like a naughty child.

I shot her a dark glare, binding her and the other elders to their chairs as well.

“Do not move and the burn will not harm you.” My voice grated with the power of my Valkyrie. “I am the daughter of your queen and you will address me as such. In my absence you have allowed a usurper on my mother’s throne. You will each pay dearly for your part in this.”

Magic coiled in Neela’s hand and I hit her hard in the chest with the burn. She shouted in fury and Pasha hissed. With her hands bound with the threat of the burn, Neela was helpless and at Pasha’s mercy.

“Alithea Ahlstrom, you are acting like a spoiled child. Call off that cat of yours,” another elder said, also free of Neela’s magical influence. I would see them all burned as traitors.

“You left us to clean up your mess. The council has moved on. The power of the gods has clearly chosen Neela.” The elder sat calmly in her chair. “Guards!” she called. “Take the princess and throw her in with her useless mother.”

“Your guards have joined their Queen Heir and have returned to the Citadel with their queen. Those who chose to fight us are all dead.” My harsh voice bounced off the stone walls of the council chamber. I pinned them each with a hard stare, my eyes lingering on Neela. “I returned more than a week ago, right under your nose. In that time I’ve released dozens of your prisoners, raised an army and rescued my mother. You will pay for dearly your crimes, cousin. You will all pay for what you have done to my people.”

I turned, leaving my stunned audience behind as Pasha leapt off the table to follow me. When the doors slammed behind me, Druan grabbed a spear from a wall display and wedged it through the door handles to hold the council inside. It wasn’t necessary, I’d left them chained to their chairs with the burn binding their arms. It would fade … eventually.

“Thea, we have to get out of here,” Vendela urged. “It’s only a matter of moments before they regroup and come after us.”

I nodded and slowly made my way back down the stairs littered with the bodies of the men and women who chose to fight against me. Anger seethed inside me at their betrayal. Putting one foot in front of the other, I allowed the storm of my rage to fill my mind and senses until I could see nothing else. I’d embraced the darkness that had hindered me before. Now it fueled my anger, making it writhe like a slick, scaly creature. I clutched it in my talons and refused to let go.