Chapter 22

Battle Royale

Cam took a deep breath. “I’ll take Nigel’s place in the spell.”

On the surface, he knew that the idea sounded stupidly self-sacrificial. That was his first thought when it had occurred to him somewhere in the middle of his and Elena’s argument, and he’d initially rejected it as part of the nonsense people always spouted when they were in love.

But it made tactical sense, and the part of Cam’s brain that could still think clearly knew that. The only way to completely eliminate the risk was to make sure that everyone involved would do exactly what they were supposed to. They had to want it as much as Elena did.

More, probably.

Elena, naturally, didn’t feel the same way. For a second, she looked absolutely terrified. “No.” Then she wrenched away from him, fury flooding in to replace the fear. “Never.”

“It’s our best option.” He reached for her, then decided it was probably a bad idea. “It’s the best shot we have of making sure the spell goes perfectly.”

“Which means that you’ll be the one the curse gets redirected at!” She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind, fingers curling like she wanted to physically shake some sense back into him. “Even if everything goes exactly according to plan with Braeth’s spell, all that happens is the deadline falls on your head instead of mine. We’re trying to fix this, not make it worse!”

“You’ll fix it.” He tried to put all his determination and faith into what he was saying. “If we can make this work like everyone thinks, sending me under gives you the best conditions for being able to untangle the curse like you talked about.”

“But what if that’s still not enough? What if I still fail you?” Her eyes filled again, and she swiped her hand across them to get the tears out of the way. “And what about your parents? Your siblings? They love you just as much as I do, and it won’t even be their fault!”

Every word was a kick to his heart, just like he knew she’d meant them to. But if he had to, he’d face everyone he loved down and explain just like he was trying to do with Elena. “Risking our lives for the greater good is the family business. They won’t like it, but they’ll have to understand.”

“I don’t!” She was fierce now, her entire stance screaming defiance. “If I wouldn’t let Bishop put himself up on the chopping block, do you really think I’m going to let you risk your life over this?”

Cam’s instinctive stubbornness immediately protested the word ‘let,’ but the rest of him smacked the thought into silence. Instead, he held his hands up in a supplicating gesture. “Explain to me how this is different than someone coming at you with a sword.”

That seemed to throw her for a second. “This is a magical attack,” she said, grabbing for the first answer that came to her. “When that happens, it’s my job to protect you.”

He almost smiled at that. “Want me to get out the document outlining my job description? Because I can promise that little detail isn’t written down anywhere.”

“It should be,” she snapped back, eyes narrowed. “And it will be, even if I have to throw a sleeping spell at you and shove you in a closet for a week.”

He had no doubt she would do exactly that if she felt she had to. Unfortunately for her, she’d need backup in order to be able to pull it off. “Won’t work. You know every single person in the circle is going to agree with me on this. They’d be able to undo anything you threw at me.”

Fear flickered back across her face as she realized he was right. She squeezed her eyes shut again. “Don’t do this,” she whispered. “Please.”

Needing to touch her, Cam walked over and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not doing this as your bodyguard,” he said quietly, voice thick with all the worry and hope of the last few days. When she opened her eyes, he bent his head enough that she’d have to meet his gaze. “I’m doing this as the man who’s already planning his collection of embarrassing pictures of our future children.”

Her eyes were wet. “You’ll be alone.”

“Not at all.” When she shot him a disbelieving look, he pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I have you watching my back.”

She inhaled shakily, bracing her hands against his sides as if she could keep him in place. “There might—”

“I am apparently woefully behind in the castle gossip. I had expected to interrupt a shouting match.”

At the sudden sound of Braeth’s voice—the wraith had a really bad habit of using his shadow trick to melt into rooms while other people were distracted—Elena flinched as if realizing what she’d been about to say. Shaking her head, she yanked herself backwards and away from Cam again. He let her go, knowing that holding her wouldn’t help things any.

“A shouting match isn’t the only reason to put up a silence shield.” Elena glared at Braeth, turning away from Cam just enough that there was no chance to even make eye contact. “And we seriously need to figure out a way to put a bell on you.”

“I look forward to your attempts.” The wraith’s hood shifted as he looked back and forth between the two of them, as if weighing the sudden change in emotional temperature. “I suspect, though, that you were discussing matters far more serious than romance.”

Cam considered whether getting Braeth on his side would help matters or just make Elena more determined not to listen. “We were talking about—”

Elena stepped forward, raising her voice to talk over the top of his. “Did you need one of us for something, or have you simply gotten bored of arguing with Dr. Flyte?”

Cam pushed ahead before the wraith could respond to Elena’s question. “We were talking about the possibility of Nigel moving at the wrong time and the spell echoing off one of her protective circles. She’s afraid it—”

She shot him a furious look. “I simply said it might—”

Cam raised his voice. “She’s afraid the spell will reflect and make her Nigel’s shield instead of the other way around.”

The invisible wind around Braeth stopped moving for a second. “There are measures we can take,” he said. “If we require him to take an oath—”

“She did, and followed through with the sealing spell I’m sure you’re about to suggest,” Cam interrupted, keeping his eyes on Elena. “She thinks there’s some way he can get around it.”

Braeth turned to Elena, who tried to look anywhere else before responding. “The sealing spell sometimes doesn’t work if the person doesn’t believe they’ve truly broken their vow.” She sounded like the words were being dragged out of her. “I’m not certain enough how Nigel’s mind works to be sure.”

“True.” The wraith made a sound that might have been a sigh. “It’s been centuries since I cast a compulsion spell, but I’m certain it would take me only a few minutes to remember the specifics.”

“No.” Elena’s voice was firm. She was doing the same thing he was, talking to Braeth while her glare was only for Cam. “Those leave the person too suggestible, which means he’ll try to follow anything and everything that sounds even vaguely like a command. Besides, this is all an overreaction. I can handle whatever magical risks Nigel might cause, and just as well as Cam can handle the physical dangers.”

“There’s enough risks in all this as it is,” Cam responded. “Now is not the time to be taking on more.”

“Exactly!” There was a brief light of triumph in Elena’s eyes. “Especially if the person taking on the risks wasn’t in danger in the first place!”

“It seems wisest to take this discussion downstairs,” Braeth cut in, bony fingers gesturing towards the door.

Elena whirled on him. “My mother does not need to be involved in this.”

The wraith just looked at her for a moment, not responding, then turned to Cam. “I was referring to the fact that your parents have arrived with Nigel. They are waiting in the throne room until we have further instructions for them.”

By the time Cam looked back at Elena, she was already out the door. He indulged himself with the most creative curse he could think of, then glared at Braeth. “You couldn’t have waited five minutes?”

The wraith didn’t threaten him with lightning, which was probably as close to an apology as he ever got. “You offered yourself in the prince’s place,” he said instead.

If he was about to get lectured in “romantic nonsense,” he was definitely going to have to hit something. “It’s our smartest option right now.”

“Yes, it is,” Braeth agreed, surprising him. “I will inform the others.”

That was Cam’s cue to head for the throne room. He ran the first part of the way, but after the first few panicked looks from the staff he forced himself to slow to a quick walk. Running guardsmen were the first sign of disaster, especially if they were in uniform.

When he got to the throne room, he found Elena had closed (and possibly barricaded) the throne room doors behind her. Cam steeled himself for the fight he knew was coming. In comparison, taking part in the actual spell would be a piece of cake.

With that less-than-happy thought, he pushed the doors open.

The throne room was relatively small, functional rather than ornate, decorated only by a few tapestries on the wall. There were no barricades, but the four people waiting inside would be enough trouble on their own. Nigel was standing next to Cam’s father, scanning the room with the disdain of someone already making plans to redecorate. Given the fact that he was still wearing his prison uniform, and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a week, he really had no room to talk.

Elena was in the opposite corner of the room talking to Cam’s mother. His mom was in uniform, just like his dad, and Elena was still in her work dress. Whatever they were talking about must have been pretty serious, their voices low and Elena’s hands gripping Marie’s arms tightly. A dozen different emotions shifted across his mother’s face, one after the other, and Cam looked away before he could identify any of them.

Instead, he headed over to his father and Nigel. The prince, catching sight of Cam, immediately started trying to back away. Since Alan had a firm hold on the chain linking the handcuffs, however, all that happened was he nearly ended up falling backward over his own arms.

Both Cam and his father ignored this. “Nigel won’t work for the spell,” Cam told Alan, deliberately using his “making a report” tone of voice. “You should take him back to the station.”

Nigel, having some trouble finding his feet again, protested. “You can’t have these heathens drag me all the way here only to be dragged back again! The princess specifically requested my assistance!”

Alan, who had been watching Marie and Elena’s discussion with an intensity Cam knew wasn’t good, turned back to his son. “I’ll need a few more details than that.”

“It turns out that if Nigel moves at the wrong time, he could screw up the spell so completely we won’t be able to cast it again.” He pointed at Nigel, finger only a few inches from the man’s nose. “And if a wrong step is enough to make that happen, think of all the other damage he could accidentally do.”

Nigel drew himself up to his full height, looking offended. “A prince does nothing they don’t intend to.”

Both men ignored him. “Elena said something about having a magical contingency plan,” Alan said. “Has that gone into effect?”

“Apparently, there’s a way for Nigel to get around it just by being himself.” Cam decided it was safest not to go into detail. “Elena seems to think it’s a real possibility.”

“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not standing here!”

Not looking at Nigel, Alan weighed what his son had told him. “What if one of us stayed in the circle with him?”

“Unless he knocked us off balance for a second, or we accidentally jerked him back too hard. Then we’d just be another potential factor that could cause the knife to slip, or the spell to be misaimed.” Cam shook his head. “Without knocking them unconscious, it’s hard to keep someone absolutely still. And if we knock him unconscious, he apparently can’t do his part of the spell.”

“You’re not going to knock me unconscious! That wasn’t part of the agreement!” Nigel insisted. Then there were a few beats as his brain finished working. “Wait, there’s a knife?” His voice went higher. “I’m certain no one mentioned a knife when this was described to me.”

Both men ignored him as Alan kept thinking. “Could Robbie focus on freezing Nigel while everyone else is working on the binding? If he had to, you could hold onto Nigel while he froze you both. Then you’d be there in case there’s a gap between the spell castings.”

Even in the middle of what was potentially the worst day of his life, Cam couldn’t help but be impressed. “Does Robbie know you pay that much attention when he talks about magic?”

The look on his father’s face made it clear that he wasn’t about to be distracted. “Answer the question.”

“Someone needs to answer my question,” Nigel cut in, though no one else was paying any attention. “And I did not say I would be frozen! How am I supposed to properly save the princess if I’m stuck there like some idiotic statue?”

Cam shook his head. “You know as well as I do that the more moving parts a plan has, the more opportunity there is for one of those parts to go wrong and make the entire plan backfire,” Cam tried, taking refuge in the fact that he was still being completely honest. “Elena says that sorcery, especially on a spell like this, is all about absolute precision, and witchcraft is all about instinct and the ebb and flow of nature. There’s no predicting how the two types of spells will interact with each other, and right now we don’t have time to test it.”

Alan’s jaw went tight, as if the words confirmed something he’d already known. “You’re determined to take Nigel’s place.”

Nigel started laughing. “That’s absurd.”

Cam watched his father’s face for any sign of reaction. “Tactically, it’s the best move we have.”

“But that’s not the reason you’re doing it,” Alan said flatly.

It wasn’t an accusation, which would have angered Cam but not entirely surprised him. It felt more like a demand, and Cam knew his father wouldn’t back his play unless he knew the exact reasoning for it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elena and his mom still in intense discussion, and he realized the only answer his father would accept.

Cam took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t have to keep doing this. “If this was happening to Mom, where would you want to be?”

At first, there was no reaction. Then Alan’s body sagged slightly, as if accepting the weight of the last news he’d wanted to hear. Before he could answer, Nigel took advantage of the distraction.

His father reached out, making a grab for them, but the prince scrambled out of the way. The cuffs missing Alan’s fingers by less than an inch.

Cam made his own grab for the prince, catching him by the upper arm. It was only then that he realized that his father had relaxed his grip for a split second, too affected by his son’s news to pay his usual strict attention. His father made a frustrated sound, then grabbed for Nigel again. He connected this time, making sure to get a firm grip before scowling at both the prince and his son.

“Really?” Not sure if he should be angry or hurt, Cam narrowed his eyes at his father as Nigel struggled. “You’re not even slightly pleased by the possibility you might get grandchildren out of this?”

Nigel huffed. “As if she’d want you to father her children.”

Alan shot them both another glare. “We’re not having this discussion here.”

Nigel yanked himself sideways so hard that the fabric of his sleeve tore, but it was enough to get him free. The two men lunged again, but Nigel scrambled out of the way to stop well beyond arm’s reach. “Someone needs to start listening to me now!” the prince announced, loudly enough that it caught the attention of Elena and Cam’s mother as well. Abandoning their discussion, they hurried over.

“Oh, we’re listening,” Alan said, voice cold. He shifted his weight, looking ready to charge if needed, but Cam knew he technically shouldn’t even be out of the splints yet.

“Nigel, stay right where you are,” Elena ordered. “We need to talk about this.”

Nigel took a wary step backwards. “Don’t—” That was as far as he got before his hand jerked with the sealing spell’s shock, and he pouted as he cradled his hand against his body. “Fine. We should talk.”

Elena put her hands on her hips. “You agreed to do this, Nigel. You gave me your word.” she said, any attempts at gentler persuasion abandoned.

Nigel, following long habit, missed the menace entirely. “You told me you needed me to be heroic, not that you were going to be using a knife anywhere near my person.” He sounded breathy and more than a little panicked. “Weaponry of any kind was most certainly not mentioned when we initially spoke!”

“It’s a simple prick with the tip of a knife blade,” Elena said, her voice cool. “Far less than anything you’d face on a real heroic quest. I assumed that a prince of your experience would be familiar enough with swords that a knife would barely make you blink.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Cam could see his mother circling around to take Nigel from his blind side. Cam started slowly inching sideways, ready to cover him from the opposite side.

Nigel looked flustered at Elena’s declaration. “Well, of course, but—” He floundered briefly, looking for an acceptable way to end the sentence. “But I should have been informed beforehand. That would have been the dignified thing to do.”

“Now you have been.” Elena stepped forward just enough that Cam could see her out of the corner of his eye. “Since that’s been settled, you need to come with us to the upstairs workroom so we can get started.”

Nigel took another step back. His hand twitched like it had been shock again, but it clearly hurt him far less than it had last time. “I’m no longer sure that I do.”

Elena’s face shifted like she’d just mentally kicked herself. “I am instructing you to come upstairs with us, and reminding you that you vowed to follow all my instructions.” There was an iron formality in her voice. “If you do this, you’ll finally be able to go home.”

“Not like this! I’m supposed to go back a hero!” Nigel kept moving backwards, and despite Elena’s corrected language the sealing spell didn’t activate at all. Cam shifted around, ready to cut him off, but Nigel saw him and stumbled sideways.

Unfortunately, he caught sight of Marie standing far closer to him than he’d expected. He changed direction quickly enough that he nearly tripped, running in the opposite direction.

He could hear Elena murmur a quick spell, and Nigel froze mid-stride, Elena’s spell catching him with one leg lifted. Momentum and lack of balance caused him to tip forward gently, crashing face-first onto the floor. Cam wished the idiot had hit the ground harder.

Muttering insults that seemed as much at himself as at Nigel, Alan bent down and hauled the prince’s dead weight back into a relatively upright position, leaning Nigel against his body.

“We have thirty seconds before the spell wears off,” Elena announced, then jabbed a finger in Cam’s direction. “Don’t say a word. If I hadn’t phrased the first command so poorly, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s not your fault. Nigel could have pulled something like this at any time, which meant we would have been doing that little comedy routine in the middle of the spell.” He was torn between sympathy and frustration, landing in an uneasy spot in the middle. “Which you would have been right in the middle of.”

“I’d rather deal with that than the fear that I’m going to leave you unconscious for a century!” she snapped back, reaching for Nigel to yank his frozen form out of Alan’s hands. When he didn’t let go, Elena shifted her glare to him. “Don’t you dare tell me you’d rather put Cam at risk than this idiot.”

Alan’s gaze flickered over to Cam before returning to Elena. “I understand why he’s doing it,” he said quietly, then his voice firmed. “And he is right about Nigel being dangerous. Since the contingency plan didn’t work, it’s too much of a risk to try the spell with him in it.”

Expression mutinous, Elena didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled harder on Nigel, putting all of her weight into it. She was still doing it when the spell ended, the no-longer-frozen prince going lax suddenly enough to catch Elena and Alan by surprise. When he dropped, they went with him.

Cam and Marie ran forward as the three struggled, but Nigel showed a moment of rare intelligence and landed a solid kick straight at Alan’s still-sore leg. A second kick made him let go, and Nigel escaped the pile and ran for the exit before either Cam or Marie could grab him.

As they ran to follow, Cam caught Elena’s eye. “This one’s your fault.”

She ignored him.