Page 35 of Till Kingdom Come

Everyone turned to stare at Killian as he shrank behind me.

“Proof that he’s Brendan’s lost son? None at all.”

The king started to smirk, and then I spoke again. “Except for his blood. If he’s the true-blood prince, he carries his proof around with him in his veins.” I gazed around the chamber with its blackening, deteriorating walls. “Your blood is obviously not working. Why not give his blood a try? That should prove that what we say is true.”

Two more of his council members came to Hendris’s side and all began murmuring and conferring with him. Finally, Hendris brushed them aside and got to his feet.

“Why are you really here? To try and take my throne? Do you honestly think my people would allow a damnFairyto rule over their kingdom?”

“If Killian’s blood is true, then it’s he who should rule them, and he’s at least half Elf.”

“And you would simply stand aside and not interfere in any way? Do you think any of us believe that?”

“I don’t care what you believe. I’m a prince in my own kingdom. A kingdom that’s far larger and far more powerful than this Elven kingdom ever thought to be, since you want to make this so personal. As for taking away your kingdom, you won’t have one much longer if it continues to rot away at this rate. Either step aside and let Killian try to save your Blood Throne…or don’t. It matters little to me. He’ll wear a crown regardless of what you decide to do or not to do—as will I. But decide quickly, because I refuse to stand here and be insulted a moment longer.”

****

Killian

I was shocked at how Bracca argued with this Elven king, and in his own throne room. He seemed to be without fear of anyone. But I was learning that Bracca made his own rules and did just as he pleased, whenever he pleased. He was bolder than I could ever be.

Almost all of what they were saying to each other was in the Fae language once they’d begun to argue, so I hadn’t understood it, though there was no mistaking the tone and their gestures. Hendris seemed by turns to be skeptical, outraged, and furious. But then so did Bracca. I stood quietly, letting the two powerful men argue and the words buzz around the room like bright, stinging insects. I knew some of their words were directed at me or about me, but I was helpless to do anything about it, much like I’d been since this whole thing started. I was simply a pawn to be moved around the board by the real players.

Finally, Bracca nodded at Hendris and then turned to me. “Show them that you’re related to King Brendan, Killian, and that you carry his blood in your veins. I have no idea what will happen so don’t get any closer than you have to. Hold out your wrist and allow a few drops of blood to fall. I’ll be beside you, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“We know about your own magic, Prince Bracca!” the king said, his voice raised and harsh. “Don’t touch him or the stone.”

“I have no need of my own magic.” He flipped the knife in his hand and held it out to me by the handle. “Go ahead,a chuisle. Show them.”

I nodded uncertainly. I was wondering—a little belatedly—how exactly this was supposed to work. Did they literally expect me to shed my blood?

It seemed as if they did, as they all stepped closer to watch me do it. I took a deep breath and pierced one of the little blue veins in my wrist with Bracca’s sharp knife. It stung badly and blood welled up from it immediately and began sliding off the side of my wrist.

One of the council members came rushing forward to pull open the glass panel, which fit over the front of the crystal with hinges. I didn’t much like the idea of sticking my hand in there, especially the way the stone was slightly pulsing, seeming to almost be alive, but I didn’t have a choice. The consensus seemed to be that a direct application of my blood would be best.

I held out my wrist so that the blood could drip onto the stone. It trickled slowly down and struck the crystal with a slight hissing sound as everyone around us seemed to hold their breath.

And nothing at all happened.

The king and all his council members were drawn around me avidly, peering at my blood falling on the stone. A soft sigh went up when nothing occurred. Bracca stepped up beside me and took my arm, pulling me away.

Behind us, King Hendris began shouting something, and Bracca shouted right back at him, a full-fledged argument suddenly breaking out right beside me. Both men had their hands on their weapons, and I thought bloodshed was imminent.

A sudden wave of dizziness swept over me as I stared down at the stone. Something cold washed over my body, and I swayed and stumbled backward, feeling disoriented. I sat down hard on the seat of the king’s blackened throne, thinking I would fall otherwise. My hands and feet tingled, and that strange, cold feeling took hold of me and wouldn’t let go. Maybe if I could rest there on the throne for just a moment, I could regain my balance. Suddenly there was a noise like a loud groaning sweeping over the room. It sounded for all the world like it had been made by the crystal itself.

A voice was whispering in my ear, saying strange words I didn’t understand. I covered my ears with my hands, but it didn’t help, because it was inside my head. Hendris came running toward me to pull me off the throne, but the moment he touched me, the stone screamed.

It was so loud and unexpected, I fell back against the seat and Hendris snatched his hand away. Bracca ran to my side and alarmed, I tried to jump to my feet, but Bracca pushed me back down and got in front of me with his sword raised. A bright red glow started pulsating from the stone and the glow was so strong it lit up the faces of the councilmen who fell back in surprise. The strange, inhuman screaming stopped, and the stone began to shoot out little bolts of light like Chinese fireworks that lit up the room. I jumped up again as the seat of the throne grew hot, and I lunged for Bracca, who caught me in his arms. He turned his back to the throne, shielding me with his body as sparks and those little bolts of light shot around the walls and bounced off the ceiling and floor. It only lasted a short time, maybe a full minute, but when the lights stopped flashing, we looked back to see the gold on the throne shining brightly again, with no traces of the black mold anywhere to be seen.

Bracca stood holding me in his arms for a moment longer, and then the most extraordinary thing happened. King Hendris himself came over to me and knelt down before me on one knee, his back stiff and tense, but his head lowered.

“Your Majesty,” he said, and the whole room erupted in loud cheers.

Chapter Twelve

The next hours were chaotic and alarming. Several of the king’s advisors rushed over to me, wanting to touch me or kiss the back of my hand. They crowded around me, pushing Bracca out of the way. At a loss, I looked frantically for him, calling his name and he was suddenly there beside me, pulling me close to him and tucking me into his side. His face was grim and determined as he calmly took control. The guards he’d brought with us, his two most top-ranking soldiers, came to our sides and pushed the Elves away from us—not too roughly, but they were firmly put aside all the same.

The Elves weren’t trying to hurt me, but they were insistent and all of them seemed to be talking at once. Since it was all in the Fae language, I didn’t understand a word of it. It was just a cacophony of noise to me, and I was quickly becoming overwhelmed.

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