Page 46

Chapter 46

Beatriz

Laude lit up like a human torch before she disappeared into oblivion, leaving behind the calm surf that contrasted the jungle fight behind me. I spun around to peer at who might have seen what had transpired. Zichri clashed swords with Whyzer Patro’s men. Jaime fought alongside Cosme, keeping our enemy from drawing near him as he uprooted trees and flung branches like spears.

But through the mess of bodies, tangled in battle, Whyzer Patro and I watched each other. The throng of battle fell away. His malicious grimace bespoke a threat. The cord between us solidified, dragging with it three words: This isn’t over .

The hairs on my neck rose with how vehement his hate ran through the cord of our connection. It reminded me that I couldn’t just sit back and have my soldiers, friends, and brother fight for me anymore. This gift pulsing in my veins was made for such a time as this.

With no reservations, I flared my ability to its full potential. My skin shone as if the sunlight reflected off bronze metal. Hundreds of invisible cords latched onto me like a humming myriad of birds, all with distinct songs, but I had no way to process their differing intonation.

This wouldn’t do. I prayed. Ancient One, what will stop our enemy? What can I do to help?

A gust of wind undid my already precarious hair from its braid, bringing with it a command. Stop the fighting.

I pushed the words be still into every connection, and then I infused it with the calm I’d seen so many nights at sunset looking out my window.

Men stopped fighting in their tracks and heaved angry breaths. Though Papá could control the body, I had the ability to control and shape the will.

Papá lay on the ground unconscious, but his chest was moving up and down. Cosme motioned for Zichri and Jaime to take Papá away. The two lifted Papá and lugged him out of the forest and onto the beach. Was he hurt or just drained? Either way, I needed to continue pushing my will into the men: retreat .

With a storm of anger and greed at my disposal to shape, I pushed it through every connection.

Be still. This isn’t your fight. I continued to hum the mantra into their minds. Men’s brows twitched with confusion, and their sword grips loosened.

Whyzer Patro sneered from a distance, gripping his staff that emanated an oppressive force pushing against mine. Cosme placed a hand on my shoulder, bolstering my powers with his. If I could have, I would have killed Whyzer Patro. It wasn’t a matter of sword cutting through flesh, but of being able to live with myself after all of this was done.

Cosme dipped his head close to my ear. “We’ll take him prisoner.”

The whyzer’s cord vibrated with malicious intent grounded in a lust for control. He took up his staff, and all his men lifted their swords. What did he intend to do?

Nervous energy vibrated through my heart, and I tried to quell it by pushing back calm. The other cords buzzed with adrenaline getting ready to fight again. The Giddelians adjusted their stances, but I commanded not yet into their wills.

“Prince and Princess,” Whyzer Patro’s deep voice called. “My servants are everywhere and burned with my marking. They can’t live behind wards to keep me away forever. You will never be at rest because even your mother would turn on you at my command.” The whyzer lowered his staff and each of his men plunged their swords into their own bodies.

Blood drained from my head.

Grunts filled the dying light. Blood oozed, bodies collapsed, and now I understood the panic. Cosme shook my shoulder and pointed in the distance. Whyzer Patro’s cloak made him appear like a shadow, racing back toward the castle. His waning connection to me still churned with cool sentiment tinged with something I couldn’t quite understand. It felt like sipping bitter herbs when you were expecting something sweet. This sentiment ran deep in his veins with no remorse for what he’d just done.

When the whyzer meshed into the depths of the forest, I allowed my vision to take in the carnage. This was what evil did to hide his secrets and save himself.

Cosme shouted commands at his guards whose masculine features twisted into looks of horror.

“Let’s go home.” The stench of blood permeated my nostrils, potent and detestable.

Half of the Giddelian soldiers chased the whyzer, and the other half accompanied Cosme and me into the portal. Cosme kept his shoulder butted against my side in a protective stance, his gaze scanning all directions for trickery.

“What do you think he’ll do next?” My feet sank into the uneven sand.

“He wants something, and he’s desperate to have it.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and envisioned the flower fields. “He wanted the relics.”

“Possibly.” Cosme held out his hand for me to take it as we jumped through the portal together.

“Then what?”

“Revenge.” The way Cosme said the word curled my heart into knots. That could have been the sentiment Whyzer Patro emanated as he ran. Could death be the only way to put an end to his evil?

With that, wind swept across our bodies, tugging on my dress’s skirt as we jolted forward and hit sandstone ground.

Minerva worried her lip as she stood but three arm spans away in a circle of soldiers including Fermín and Lucas. I continued to scan the small crowd, searching for familiar faces.

“Should I close the portal?” Minerva inhaled with something akin to relief.

“No, I’m heading back. Lucas? Fermín?” Cosme tipped his head toward the portal in invitation. “We’re on a hunt.”

“My favorite.” Fermín rubbed his palms together.

Lucas met my gaze with a twinkle in his blue eyes. Though he had boyish charm and a sweet character any lady could appreciate, I longed for only one man’s attention, even if it meant going to the corners of the world.

My feet wouldn’t stop moving despite a thirst that needed quenching and other needs having not been met in some time. The grand palace entrance opened into the high-ceilinged atrium with the luxury of maids lined up to serve my every whim.

“Your Majesty, do you need a drink?”

“Yes, some hibiscus tea.” I continued like an arrow to the infirmary.

Two maids darted off.

“Your Majesty, should I prepare a bath?”

“Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you.”

“Your Majesty …”

I didn’t hear the next requests because the infirmary held only young men and none so handsome as the one I longed to find.

A paunchy nurse with a knowing smile approached. “You must be on the hunt for the looker. He’s with your Papá in the king’s corridor.”

“Thank you.” If I could have flown, I would have. Decorum fell to the polished floors. I darted as if Whyzer Patro himself chased me up the stairs and to the guarded doors where Papá and Mamá slept.

The tall guard winked at me and opened the door. A long empty corridor, barely lit, stretched in front of me, reminding me of how I’d traversed this space to beg for time with Zichri.

Firelight poured from Papá’s bedroom through the cracked open door. This time, instead of hiding, I pushed the gilded piece of wood open.

The back of a tall fellow with strong shoulders wearing a bloodied tunic and a plain vest stood at Papá’s bedside. His shapely figure, evidence of time spent cultivating strength. Compassion seeped from him and into my senses.

Mamá touched Papá’s chest with a glowing hand. Laude watched from the other side of the room with her beau at her side. The clear expectation in her hopeful eyes glowed all the brighter when she caught sight of me. Without skipping a beat, she waved at me and bounced on her toes.

Zichri’s slow turn revealed the perfect slope of his nose, two giant brown eyes, and lips I longed to kiss. The penetrating look he steered in my direction left me breathless.

He bridged the gap and hesitated to take my hand, signaling with a peek over his shoulder at why. Papá hadn’t allowed for a match between us, and Zichri longed for us to get all the approvals stamped and sealed.

I wrapped my arms around Zichri, feeling his heat and the pitter patter of his heart still wild for the evil we’d defeated. Zichri remained stiff. Perhaps it was that Papá’s gaze shifted toward us or that Zichri needed to go home and check on the state of his family. I smiled at Zichri, needing to make this quick.

“How is he?” I touched Mamá’s back.

“I’m fine.” Papá’s voice sounded much too raspy for his normal self. His eyebrows drooped over swollen lids. “Your mamá just fusses over the details.”

“He’s swollen in places that need much healing.” Mamá continued to work on healing him through her touch.

Laude drew nearer. “I’ve offered the last of the petals from the island. They healed Jaime but His Majesty refuses.”

“They’re poison.” Papá drawled.

“They healed Jaime and Zichri and Minerva,” Laude’s voice rose a pitch“if all accounts are true, and I’ve seen poison at work and it’s not good—” She would have continued but Papá’s finger wagged in the air.

“Not that type of poison, my dear.” Papá shifted his attention to me. “Eventually, indulging in the power of those petals will make you long for eternal life by your own will of power, but they’ll steal your soul and leave you like a husk. They need to be destroyed.”

I lowered to Papá’s eye level, considering how Zichri had consumed some. “Is it immediate?”

“No.” Papá's simple response allowed me to breathe several slow inhales and exhales. “Do you have a request to make of me?”

“Not now, Papá.” I patted his calloused knuckles. “You need rest.”

“Daughter, you can ask of me anything. If I don’t make it, I want you to know you have my blessing.”

“Please don’t talk like that.” Tears blurred my vision. “You are going to get better.”

“Only the Ancient One knows that.” Papá clasped my hand between his. “We’ll make your betrothal final when Cosme is here with us. Did you see him?”

My chin quivered. “Cosme went back to chase Whyzer Patro. What did you say about my betrothal?”

The wrinkles along Papá’s mouth eased into a hint of a smile. “Come here.” He gestured for Zichri to draw near.

Zichri stepped forward. His cheek muscles flexed along his jawline. An aching minute passed with Zichri and Papá in some hidden conversation in the tilt of their heads and slight nods. Finally, Zichri broke the silence. “If Beatriz will have me,” he let his gaze drift to meet mine and then back to Papá’s, “I’d like to ask for a betrothal and to make it official with a tour to Himzo.”

An airy chuckle escaped Papá’s throat. “Beatriz, does that suit you?”

Tears built up along my eyelashes, and my head bobbed ardently. “Yes, I’d love that.”

Mamá hugged me, and Laude nearly leapt over Papá and tripped into an embrace. I clasped my arms around her, so thankful I had not lost my dearest friend.

Laude twittered with so much joy, I dare say, it made me forget any other emotion existed. “I can’t wait to show you around the plaza and to see Milo and for you to meet Griselda, Zichri’s sister—but I’ve really only watched her from afar—and it will be splendid.”

Zichri pulled me up to my feet while he drank in the sight of me, mud-splattered and missing a sleeve. The Ancient One knew he couldn’t have wanted to marry me because of the aroma wafting from my soiled dress or my perfectly kept hair. All false pretenses aside, he loved me, and I loved him.

“I need to return to Himzo to stop the plan Hugo set in motion to kill our remaining brother.” Zichri glanced behind me to the door. “Where’s Minerva?”

In my haste, I’d forgotten about her. “Let’s go together. Should we wait for Cosme?”

His shoulders slumped. “Probably, but we don’t have the luxury of time.”