Page 82 of Unbetrothed

“You said you can feel the numbers we are up against,” Milo murmured in an accusatory tone.

“I’m new to this. Give me a moment.” I glared at Milo, who grabbed two handfuls of curls at the top of his head.

Growing waves of energy surged out of my body. I reached farther and farther from our spot outside the watchtower corridor. The invisible waves crashed into my small band of friends and away from me, but it stopped sooner than expected.

Blas grunted and gestured to Gonzalo, Milo, and Jaime. The fellows all nodded, and Blas led the charge, his companions in tow. The clashing of swords filled my ears. I stayed back. Within a matter of minutes, ten Pedrozian soldiers groaned on the floor. My mouth dropped open. It was one thing to know my companions were soldiers but quite another to see them in action.

“Mamá should be in the east tower. I need to go so she won’t put an end to you on the spot.” I sprinted, skipping over bodies strewn on the floor. Racing up the stairs, I shouted, “Mamá, it’s me. Are you in there?”

At the top of the stairs, bodies mounded to my shoulders. Mamá stood in the bell tower, leaning on the wall for support.

“Beatriz.” Mamá’s voice sounded weak.

“I’m here with four Himzo friends. Come with us to save Papá.” I pushed a body with all my might. The man flopped over, glazed eyes staring heavenward. I cringed, realizing I touched a dead body. Did the stain of death linger on my palms?

Blas and Gonzalo shoved the fallen soldiers to flatten the mound. Mamá stabilized herself with the wall as she stepped on the fallen Pedrozians. Each footfall sank down a bit, but she continued forward, pursing her lips and keeping her chin high. She hopped off the last body, almost tumbling down the stairs.

“Papá is in the balcony room,” I said, reaching out to help her in case she stumbled.

The vulnerability displayed on Mamá’s face made her look more beautiful than ever.

Without a single word more, we moved. Mamá stopped at the sight of the groaning soldiers over the hardwood. She waved a hand in front of her, ending their groans.

Blas whistled. “Whoa! I thought your father was the powerful one.”

Gonzalo backhanded Blas’s chest.

Mamá shared none of Blas’s awe. She bent down and shut a soldier’s eyelids while tears streamed down her face. I offered a hand to help her up, but she didn’t budge. She let out a shuddering breath. Without me attempting to use my gift, a connection formed between us. A hollowness sank in my chest. I knelt and placed my arm around Mamá’s shoulders. I pulled her into a hug.

Her warmth comforted me, providing hope that somehow, we’d survive today. She cupped my cheek and fixed her gaze on me. Her brown eyes sparked with a new flame as she wiped her cheeks. She stood and nodded, whispering something to herself. Stepping over the fallen, she pressed her shoulders back.

My connection to Mamá’s sunken emotions began to shift with each tap of her boots. I rose to my feet, watching the blood-stained hem of her golden gown drag over the hardwood.

Blas arched his brows in shock. “Do you need us to assist you, or should we just stay out of your way?”

“I have a hunch that she doesn’t need your help,” whispered Gonzalo.

Mamá disappeared around a corner.

A clang drifted from deep within the palace walls. I turned down a different passageway to where I suspected Lux and Zichri fought. “Let’s find Zichri.”

We marched forward, corridor after corridor, hunting for Zichri. If he led these men and they fought off the Pedrozian soldiers so easily, he must be of equal skill to Lux. I hoped. But Lux had always been praised for his sparring skills. A fresh current of dread twisted within my gut. Our steps became a rhythm of stomping boots and my slapping feet, and we listened for any sign of swords crashing.

I imagined us charging forth like a storm marching across the sky. It descended, spreading its cover over all the land. Without thinking, an invisible string formed, tethering me to my Himzo friends. I inhaled the new information. A pulse of Milo’s love for a woman pushed him forth. It made his stern face seem softer, even though he still furrowed his brows. Blas’ brotherly affection for these men ran deep, Gonzalo’s loyalty could not be broken, and Jaime was filled with anticipation and hope. I guessed his hope was for something to transpire between him and Laude.

It occurred to me that she may not be as safe in my room as I suspected. I pushed that thought to the side. After all, there were four guards outside the door, and Myla would have surely come for me first once she knew something was amiss.

I shuffled down the marble steps. Clashing and shouting grew louder the closer we got to the throne room. I pumped my arms and lifted my knees, racing toward the sound. Pushing open the arched doors of the hall, I entered a giant empty space. Sunlight poured in through tall windows, highlighting Lux’s golden locks. Lux pressed a boot on Zichri’s chest. Blood gushed out Lux’s brow, but a puddle formed beneath Zichri.

Milo, Blas, Gonzalo, and Jaime stampeded across the ample room, but they wouldn’t make it before Lux plunged his sword into Zichri. My feet stuck to the marble. Time slowed as Lux lifted his sword over his head, ready to sink it into Zichri’s chest.

My mind’s eye pictured a hurricane.

I threw my hands in the air.

Rage and desperation flowed out of me like flashes of lightning slashing a blackened sky.

Lux flew through the window and crashed somewhere outside. My heart stopped. Blas jerked his head toward me.

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