Alex. Are you up there? Alex. Alex. Alex.
The sound of his own name ricocheted through his aching head as he lay in bed. All morning, he’d felt an exhaustion unlike anything he’d experienced before. It had faded away, but he still couldn’t bring himself to rise.
Etta had been hurt this morning. Hurt and then healed. He was sure of it. That was what caused his current state. She was out there and there was nothing he could do to protect her.
Etta. Etta?
His time of imprisonment was beginning to scatter his brain. No. He didn’t hear Etta’s voice. His mind was playing tricks, giving him what he wanted most.
Alex.
He covered his ears and shook his head violently. Was La Dame playing a cruel joke? She was nothing but cruel. But he would not give in. He would not give her the satisfaction of breaking him. She seemed to take pleasure in his love for Etta. It gave her power.
“No,” he grumbled, stumbling from the bed. He lurched toward the chamber pot and lifted it. If La Dame was on the ground taunting him, he’d get back at her. It was petty and childish, but it was all he could do. He carried the pot to the window and prepared to turn it on an unsuspecting sorcerer as she created the stairs she’d climb to torment him.
It slipped from his grasp when he looked to the ground, hitting the edge of the window on its way out. Urine flew through the air, but all he could do was stare at the two people scrambling back away from the falling waste.
Edmund grinned up at him once the pot landed with a thud. The other person had their hood up, but there was no mistaking the set of her shoulders or short movements of her gait. He sucked in a breath.
They were here.
“Etta.” His voice was too quiet the first time he spoke so he cleared his throat. “Etta.”
She snapped her head back to peer up at him, her hood slipping from short golden hair. His fierce protector looked even more dangerous than before.
She turned away from him to say something to Edmund and Tyson appeared at the tree line. Alex leaned against the side of the window. His brother was safe.
But he was here.
Panic clawed at him. They had to go. La Dame could return at any moment. Before he got another word out, Etta had placed her palms on the stone. He watched in amazement as vines slithered up the tower, crossing and wrapping around the structure. He touched one as it whipped past the window.
Glancing down at Etta, he shook his head. Edmund tried to hold her back, but she pushed him away and started to climb. Her sword was strapped across her back and gleamed in the sun as she ascended the vines she’d created, showing no fear.
The moment she reached him, he grabbed her arm and pulled her in through the window before crushing her to him. His pulse hammered in his ears as she pressed her face into his chest.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered into her hair.
She shook her head. “I had no choice.”
“Because of the curse.” He nodded in understanding.
She pushed away from him. “Because…” Her voice wavered, and she turned away to hide her face. When she faced him once again, her look broke him in two. “Because I haven’t fought for you. I’ve lied to you and hated you. I’ve protected you and loved you. But I didn’t fight. When you imprisoned me, I let you despise me. When you wanted to let me go, I said the reason I couldn’t was the curse.” She stepped forward and fisted his shirt. “I know you won’t agree, but I need to fight. For you. For me. For us. It’s probably going to kill me, but how could I live knowing I didn’t fight?”
When she lifted her face once more, he claimed her lips with his. Possessing. Demanding. Hello. Thank you. I’m scared.
I love you.
She deepened the kiss with a moan low in her throat and he wanted nothing more than for it to last forever.
His mind finally caught up. His Etta had come. As scared as he was for her, he loved her all the more for it.
“I’m going to tear it all down.” Her voice vibrated against his lips. “If I’m going down, I’ll take her with me.”
The tower shook and Alex broke away with a frantic look to the window. “She’s here.”
“Etta!” Edmund’s voice was cut off abruptly.
La Dame’s steps were slow, each slap of her shoes against the stairs, sending a jolt through them.
There was nowhere to hide. She knew Etta was there.
“I love you,” Alex breathed, tightening his grip on her.
A tear shone in the corner of her eye. “I never thought I’d love you.”
“Etta, there’s something you need to know. Maiya–”
He suddenly couldn’t speak as La Dame’s magic stole his words. He pulled Etta to his side as he tried once again to speak. To tell Etta she had a traitor in her midst. La Dame climbed through the window and righted herself. A bright smile stretched across her deceptively beautiful face.
“Persinette,” she said pleasantly.
Etta shook beside him as she straightened her spine.
“La Dame.” Her voice was cold, strong.
La Dame stepped forward. “It is a pleasure meeting someone I feel such a connection to.”
Etta cocked her head. “Is connection another term for curse?”
“Ah, but it isn’t a curse for you at all, is it, my dear?” She walked forward and patted Alex’s cheek. “He’s such a handsome boy. I can see why you’d forsake your family’s long enmity for his family.”
Alex flinched away from her.
La Dame lowered her hand and quirked her lip. “I’m in the mood to make a deal.”
“I’m listening.” Etta grit her teeth.
“A trade. You take your young king’s place and I will release him. Simple as that.”
“No,” Alex tried to cry.
Etta stepped away from him. “Done.”
Alex shot her a pleading look.
La Dame laughed. “I’m afraid you don’t know the Basiles, Alexandre. I wouldn’t try to tell her what to do.”
Etta advanced on La Dame. “You destroyed my family. What are you waiting for? Kill me. As long as Alex is released.”
“Your love for him is endearing, but I’m afraid today is not the day we make the trade. I throw balls for my townsfolk every night. You will be there two nights hence. Only then will you save your precious prince. Until then, we have no need of you.”
La Dame shot a blast of power toward Etta before Alex could shove her out of the way. Her arms flung out to the sides as she sailed backward through the window, a scream dead on her lips.
Alex ran to the window as her lifeless body crashed toward the ground. “Etta,” he called, his words finally breaking free as he collapsed against the sill.
Helplessness settled over him as he could do nothing but watch the woman he loved falling. The impact sent a shock through his system and he fell back, gasping for breath as if every bone in his body broke. Pain spread out from one localized spot in his abdomen. He didn’t hear his own scream as everything faded away.
Voices surrounded Etta, but she couldn’t make them out through the heavy hammer crashing inside of her skull. Each word spoken sent another sharp pain against her temple.
A groan worked its way up to escape her lips. “Stop,” she murmured.
They didn’t hear her.
“Stop talking so loudly.”
The voices ceased abruptly, and she opened her heavy eyelids. Dark curls swam before her as Maiya leaned over.
“Etta.” She placed her hands on Etta’s head and the pulse of her magic sent the pain on its way. “I’m glad you’re awake.”
Darkness covered the room they were in and her friends stood out like shadows in the night.
“What happened?” She pushed herself up on her elbows.
“That woman pushed you from the tower,” Edmund growled.
It all came back to her. The tower. Alex. Her eyes snapped to Edmund, but he shook his head. Alex was still a prisoner.
Leaning back, she breathed heavily. She’d failed him. For a moment, she’d gotten lost in his arms and she’d let her guard down. How was she supposed to save Alex now?
“I’ve been out all afternoon?” A candle burned nearby illuminating the bare wooden walls and dirt floor. A stack of crates stood in the corner. Where were they?
Tyson sat down beside her. “You’ve been unconscious for a night and a day, even after Maiya healed you.”
Alarm bells rang in her head. “We have one day until the ball.”
When they regarded her quizzically, she explained everything that transpired in the tower. Finding Alex. Their invitation.
Tyson shot Matteo a look and her cousin sighed. “She holds these balls every night. She enjoys the show of fidelity from the villagers and it solidifies her power in Bela.”
“Villagers?” Etta tried to climb to her feet, but Maiya put a hand on her arm. “There isn’t a village in Bela.”
“There is now.” Edmund glanced toward the door. “People have been disappearing from Gaule in droves and this is where they’ve ended up.”
“None of this makes any sense.” Etta shrugged Maiya away and climbed to her feet.
Matteo followed her. “The first thing you need to understand about La Dame is you may never have answers to your questions. Her reasons are never known. Her magic is infinite.”
Etta stopped when she stepped outside. A village sat before her, not unlike the one near the palace of Gaule. Darkness covered the street, but the cobblestones beneath her feet were plain. Wooden, flat-roofed buildings stretched out on each side of her, each one connected to the next. Wind blew her sticky hair from her forehead as her mind tried to grasp the truths before her. She’d thought it was all gone. Her kingdom. But here it was, come to life again.
A door opened nearby, spilling candlelight onto the street. Boisterous voices poured out until they were abruptly cut off by the closing door. A tavern. Those people sounded… happy? Did they know they were controlled by La Dame?
Edmund stepped up beside her and bumped her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“How is any of this here?”
“Tyson and I came through here soon after leaving Gaule and it was nothing but overgrown forests and the ruins of a castle.”
“You mean this is magic?” She sucked in a breath. None of this should be real. Her heart thundered in her ears. La Dame was more powerful than she’d imagined.
He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side as if reading her mind. “This doesn’t mean we can’t beat her.”
Etta dropped her head onto his shoulder. “I had him, Edmund. He was in my arms.”
“We still have a chance.”
She didn’t tell him how much she doubted his words. It wouldn’t do any good. Whether they had a chance or not, they weren’t going to quit.
“Where’s Verité?”
Edmund grinned. “You and that blasted horse.”
“Tell me.”
“He’s fine. When La Dame showed up, she shot out a blast of magic that sent us flying toward the woods. With the exception of Maiya, we were all knocked unconscious. But the horses were out of her range of power, hidden back in the trees. They’re in the village stables.”
Something about his story didn’t sit right with her. She glanced behind her but the others were lost in discussion.
Leaning closer to Edmund, she dropped her voice. “If you were all knocked out, why wasn’t Maiya?”
“She said she was near the horses.”
Etta ran a hand through her hair, a nervous habit from having long hair most of her life. “She wasn’t. I saw her from the window. She was right behind you.”
Blonde brows drew up over clear blue eyes.
“How did you find the village?” she asked. “Was it Matteo?”
“No.” He frowned. “Matteo was as surprised as us. He said he knew the people coming to the balls had to live somewhere, but he hadn’t been allowed outside the palace until his escape.” He scratched the back of his neck and met her gaze. “Maiya chose our road. You were draped across my saddle and the only thing I could think of was how her healing couldn’t wake you. Matteo and Tyson had grown quiet. She rode at the front and none of us questioned her direction. When we came upon the village, she acted as if it were a shock to her as well.”
“We can’t—”
They were interrupted by the appearance of the girl in question.
She smiled shyly. “Are you two going to stand out here all night? You’ll freeze.”
Etta opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t know what to say to the girl. Maiya, the first friend Etta had ever made, was a traitor. The burn of betrayal caught the words in her throat. What about Pierre? Her father’s closest friend. Had it all been orchestrated from the beginning?
Etta brushed past her into the room and took up residence in the far corner. Drawing her hood and pulling her knees to her chest, she rested her chin on her arm and held back the angry tears. La Dame owned her. She’d owned her father. Everything was controlled by the woman who wanted nothing more than to destroy her family.
Maiya and Pierre proved she could reach them even in the warded Gaule. La Dame could enter any part of her life and now she sat with a traitor a few feet away. The wide, innocent eyes were a trick.
Edmund positioned himself near Maiya, watching her every move.
It was only when he spoke that Etta realized Matteo was next to her. “Did you know I’m a few weeks younger than you?”
Weeks? That meant… she scrubbed at her face. Too much information. Maiya’s betrayal and now Matteo. She’d come so close to avoiding the fate of the Basiles. If she’d been born only a few weeks later – after Matteo – the curse would have fallen to him instead of her.
When she didn’t respond, he continued. “I waited to take up the curse for my entire life. My father didn’t know about you. He didn’t even tell me about his brother. But La Dame knew. I’ve been in her household since I was a child, but you know why she didn’t tell me? Control. As long as I believed her curse would be my life, I was beholden to her.”
“I’m not beholden to her,” Etta snapped.
“As long as you need something from her, that’s exactly what you are. It’s why she’s doing this. We are not her enemies. To be such, would give us a power in her mind she refuses. No, we are merely her playthings. It’s why she kept me and my father instead of killing us. In her eyes, death is too easy.”
“Didn’t you tell me there is no freedom in death? How is it too easy?”
“That’s true. There is no freedom. But there is finality. An end. Maybe a little peace. Peace. As long as we’re alive, she can at least make sure we have no peace.”
“She can try.” Etta’s voice hardened. “But what she didn’t count on was the curse providing the peace we seek. I don’t need her to break it anymore. I could live my entire life connected to Alexandre Durand, and it would be a good one.”
“Don’t underestimate her. She will use your love against you.”
Etta’s eyes drifted to where Maiya had fallen asleep. “Maybe she already has.”
“You’ve found the traitor in your midst.” He nodded in understanding.
“You knew?” As if his words confirmed Maiya’s allegiance in her mind, the anger she’d felt returned in force.
“She’s a healer, of course I knew. The healing magic is a Draconian one.”
“I’m such a fool.” She buried her face in her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
One of his shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I didn’t think it mattered. She wouldn’t try to kill you. La Dame wants you alive. It seems her job is to guide you to the palace. Make sure you get there. That’s where we want to go anyway, so what’s the harm?”
“We? I thought you were against us going.”
He tilted his head back against the wall, blonde hair falling into his eyes. He looked every bit the Basile. Every bit her family.
Family. It was a foreign concept to her. Matteo. Tyson. She didn’t know how to be family.
When Matteo answered her, his voice was barely above a whisper. “If I thought I could stop you, I would. But I will go where you go. I know I can be harsh, but I’ve never had anyone in my life I could care about.”
“What about your father?”
He shook his head. “No. You need to know… my father is a Basile, but he’s loyal to La Dame. He won’t be on our side.”
Etta hesitated before taking his hand in hers. Her cousin had lived his life in solitude similar to hers, both in their own kind of prison. He’d been alone. At least she’d had her father when he wasn’t off trailing the king across Gaule. Matteo gave her hand a grateful squeeze, and it tugged at her heart. Her connection to him had nothing to do with a curse, it was blood, pure and simple. Their blood bonded them and in Bela, blood was the most important thing of all. It held their power.
She thought over every interaction with Matteo, coming to one conclusion. “You don’t have any magic, do you?”
He hung his head in shame.
“How is that possible?”
“I don’t know.” He took his hand from hers. “I waited my entire life for the legendary Basile power. The kind that hadn’t been seen in generations. The kind that the stories told could defeat La Dame. I thought maybe that was the reason I didn’t even have small-scale magic, because it would come. Then I found out about you and knew it never would.”
“But I don’t have it either.” She held out her hand, palm up. “All I can do is grow plants. And Ty… he hasn’t shown anything other than a water ability.”
“And so it passed another generation.” He shook his head. “And we’re no closer to taking her down for good.”