Page 78 of Oaths & Vengeance (Realm of Zadrya #1)

It had been no easy task to develop the right weave of defenses and build them up over the years so that no one could break them easily.

He could spend a week trying to crack them, but it would be of no use to him.

It would take longer than that. I’d known better than to block him from entering because that would have drawn his attention and made him suspicious.

Instead, I’d focused on spells for specific types of attacks.

It also made them more impervious to tampering than if I’d created something broader.

Lord Morgunn narrowed his eyes and pulled his sword. My intelligent plants scooted back a couple of feet rather than attack. Every type of defense I had on the place stopped under that arch, and my sweet little beauties knew it. My uncle swung at them, but they avoided his reach.

“You always were too smart for your own good, niece.” His gaze returned to me with barely restrained fury. “You know we’ll cut down every one of your precious plants if that’s what it takes to reach you. ”

I considered the portal ring at the back of my garden, covered in vines at the moment to hide it.

I wished I could use that to get away, but I’d drained myself escaping to the garden.

There wasn’t enough magic left in me to even channel to the nearest location.

Maybe if my plants held them off long enough, but I’d lost a lot of blood, which would slow down my magic regeneration.

Even then, I doubted my curse would allow me to channel before putting me to sleep.

That could never be my escape as long as my uncle lived.

“You three,” Lord Morgunn pointed at several soldiers beyond the archway. “Clear a path so we can reach her.”

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a spell to protect against blades because that would prevent me from using my trimming shears.

My plants would have to defend themselves against swords.

I could only pray to the nameless ones that they didn’t come to too much harm.

That was the trouble with spending all these years tending them—I’d grown attached.

The three troops ran forward, swinging at the crunchertraps in the lead.

The massive lavender flowers ducked, so the blades went right over them before lunging forward to take chunks of flesh from two of the elves.

Then, the plants flung the men straight into the waiting tractvines.

The snake-like flora wrapped themselves around each of the soldiers, squeezing until bones crunched and screams filled the garden.

The sounds cut off abruptly a few seconds later.

I didn’t dare look, but I knew it meant those elves were no longer breathing.

Near the archway, both crunchertraps mauled the third soldier until he was bleeding and missing too much flesh to do more than wail in pain.

Someone else darted in quickly to drag him out of there.

“Retrieve more soldiers—as many as you can,” Lord Morgunn ordered the remaining female elf.

She dashed away.

My uncle eyed the garden, undoubtedly contemplating how to defeat it.

Strategizing against an army of flora was something fae usually didn’t have to contemplate.

He lifted a hand and once more tried pushing his ice magic toward my large flowers with blood dripping from their petals.

One of them sneezed at him, spraying red droplets all over his face .

He scowled in disgust. “How is it that my ice won’t even form in there?”

“Oh, Uncle. I wouldn’t have wanted them catching frostbite in the winter,” I said wryly, though that hadn’t been my true motivation. I’d worried he’d try punishing my plants someday instead of only me.

Another soldier arrived, and they moved a short distance from the walled garden, whispering low enough that I couldn’t hear them.

It would be nice if they could keep planning for another thirty minutes.

Maybe I could fool my mind into escaping this place.

If I thought about only going a short distance and nowhere out of Therress, would that trick the curse?

I had no idea, but it would be worth a try.

My hopes crashed when, less than ten minutes later, the female elf returned with more soldiers than I could count from my position on the cobbled path.

I scooted back farther to give my plants room to maneuver.

Two of my tractvines were out of the fight since it would take weeks to consume their fresh meals, but I still had a few more that would love to eat something meaty, and one that was only wounded from having a short section of its limb cut off.

They mainly subsisted on underground insects and the occasional rodent, so tonight was a real treat for them if they could catch a whole person.

I only felt bad that the soldiers would be seriously harmed or lose their lives because of me.

If I didn’t know for sure that my uncle was serious about torturing and possibly executing me, I’d surrender to save my plants and the troops.

I had to consider the fountain as well. If I died, all hope of retrieving it before our world reached the point of no return would be gone.

The next few minutes passed so quickly that I could hardly keep track.

My uncle's military contingent stormed my garden en masse, swinging blades as they moved.

The crunchertraps wounded the first handful, tossing a few at the tractvines and other malicious plants before the fae cut them down.

A tear fell down my cheek as they dropped to the stones, lifeless and missing many of their petals.

The spittlestalks were out of season, but they managed to spray a little poison when the soldiers passed them. Four elves and goblins choked and coughed, gasping for breath. They fled moments later .

All the remaining soldiers, about a dozen, managed to slice up most of the plants that got in their way.

A few fae lost their lives, but the majority managed to keep moving forward.

As they approached me, I caught sight of plant pieces littering the path behind them, and I wanted to scream in agony at their loss.

A couple of other deadly varieties remained stationed in front of me as my last line of defense. They sent out tendrils to trip their targets’ feet and more to pull off their limbs with ruthless violence that even shocked me. My garden had no mercy for its invaders.

Several troops were torn apart, with high-pitched screams and sprays of blood filling the air.

In the end, though, the last of my warrior plants were butchered by blades.

There were too many soldiers for them to take on all at once, forcing me to watch their massacre with pain and horror. They suffered and died—for me.

In the end, it turned eerily quiet.

My uncle’s remaining soldiers roughly grabbed my arms and dragged me through plant remains and fae body parts toward the archway. My feet scraped against the uneven and blood-soaked stones. Ahead, I could see the anti-magic cuff Lord Morgunn held.

With the vestiges of power I had left, I sent healing magic to my garden. It wouldn’t save the ones with too much damage, but it would give some of the others a fighting chance of recovering. I didn’t keep a drop of strength for myself, giving them my all. They deserved it.

We made it past the archway, and my uncle took the honor of cuffing me.

They callously dragged me along the path toward the front corner of the castle as I tried not to cry out from the pain of my injuries.

None of them showed an ounce of mercy after what my garden had done to their comrades.

I stumbled down the stairs to the dungeon, twisting my ankle midway.

Though I cried out, they didn’t seem to care or slow their pace.

Finally, they hauled me into the last cell and shackled me to the wall.

Lord Morgunn ordered two of his largest and most vicious soldiers to beat me, but warned them to take care and not maim or kill me.

They struck my body everywhere so many times that my screams grew hoarse, and I sagged against the chains.

I couldn’t say how much time had passed before darkness overtook me.