Page 125 of Oaths & Vengeance
Aella
Moments later, I found myself thrust out of the ring and into the Ivory Castle keep. My whole world was falling apart, yet I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Could Darrow survive something like that? It had been many years since I’d seen Lord Morgunn use his magic that way, but I remembered it having deadly consequences if healers didn’t act fast enough.
Ulmar shoved me to the ground. “You stay there.”
“Take her weapon,” my uncle ordered, shooting me a cold look. “She drained herself holding the portal open, so we shouldn’t need to worry about her powers for a while.”
They thought I stopped channeling because of exhaustion, thank the nameless ones.
As my cousin pulled the blade sheathed at my hip, I noted the anticipatory gleam in his eyes. He undoubtedly looked forward to torturing me soon. My only relief was that they assumed my complete drain of magic would mean I couldn’t regenerate for nearly a day, negating the need for an iron cuff right now. They had no idea I still had a small measure left, and if I were patient, it would grow. All I needed was time.
Ulmar stood next to me, where I crouched and drew ragged breaths as I fought tears of worry for Darrow, Loden, and the others. I couldn’t let them see me cry, or they’d suspect how much I cared about the Veronnians my uncle attacked near the ring. Instead, I made myself focus on my surroundings. Wounded lay everywhere on the staging grounds, with Briauna, Rynn, and other healers tending them. While my shoulder woundhurt, so many soldiers had it much worse. At least I could function and walk.
Lord Morgunn had wandered away to speak with his captains. He’d need to organize the care of the wounded and dead, as well as consider security measures in case Veronna retaliated soon. I hoped that would keep him busy for a while.
A gnome with a kind face brought me some water, and I gulped it down. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until that moment. Handing the empty cup back to her, I gave her a weak smile. “Thank you.”
She dipped her chin. “Of course.”
Tadeus worked in the distance, delivering bandages and other supplies. He hadn’t gone with us this time. When he came near where I crouched, holding my wounded shoulder, he paused a moment to meet my gaze. The emotion in his eyes…there was terror and worry for me. A chill ran down my spine. I glanced at Ulmar, whose expression curdled my stomach and made me want to run. To test a theory, I slowly rose to my feet.
“You stay right here,” he said, grabbing my wounded shoulder and shoving me down again.
Blinding pain tore through me where he squeezed tightly. “Stop!”
“No. I won’t allow you to escape the punishment you’re due.”
His grip was so tight it brought tears to my eyes, and I looked away. After a minute, he released me but stayed so close that he could easily grab me again. More time passed before Lord Morgunn nodded at Ulmar, and he jerked me to my feet. Several guards joined us as they led me toward the castle like a fugitive, and with each step, I had a feeling I was walking to my doom. The look in my uncle’s eyes was pure rage.
As soon as we passed the armory, my heart began to thunder in my chest as I noted the direction we headed. “Where are we going?”
Lord Morgunn held up a hand, and we stopped. “I know what you did to the dark elf fleet, Aella, and I also saw Lord Gannon’s son save you. As if that wasn’t appalling enough, you spoke to him for several minutes. There wasn’t a hint of animosity between you.”
I swallowed hard. He’d somehow seen us by the cliff, and I’d missed it. I had kept an eye on our surroundings, but with all the chaos and smoke, hemight have been far enough back for me to miss him. The only good thing was that he shouldn’t have been able to listen to our conversation from that distance. My traveling to Penoria behind my uncle’s back to research the fountain might have raised some ire, but consorting with the enemy and helping them was the worst thing I could have done in my uncle’s eyes. I really was doomed.
“What are you going to do with me?” I asked, chest tightening.
“You have committed treason, niece, by consorting with the enemy.” Lord Morgunn stepped closer with pure malice on his face. “The only thing that will save you is telling us all you know—otherwise, you will be executed.”
Panic surged through me, and my mind raced. I refused to tell him anything useful, so what did I do? For all I knew, Darrow wouldn’t survive the night after what my uncle did to him. Everything felt hopeless. “Kill me now because you’ll get nothing out of me.”
He swung his hand so fast I couldn’t avoid the open-handed slap. My teeth cut into my cheek, and blood filled my mouth. Ulmar had to hold onto me to keep me from falling.
“Don’t be so sure,” Lord Morgunn said, leaning close to me. “As you’re aware, there are many ways to make someone talk. I will employ most of them before I resort to execution.”
My mind flashed to all the previous instances that he’d hurt me in the past, the pain and agony I’d suffered. I hadn’t committed nearly as severe offenses those times. He would torture me in ways he’d never dared before, and I didn’t know if I could handle it. Not now, not again. My survival instincts surged, and I did the only thing I could under the circumstances.
I pulled in the small measure of power I’d regained since returning to Ivory Castle and pushed wind out in every direction. My uncle, cousin, and the guards flew back twenty feet. I took off running, ignoring how it jarred my wounded shoulder and sent one more strong gust at the guard between me and the direction I wanted to go. He slammed into a side wall of the officer's quarters.
It bought me enough time that I nearly made it to my garden entrance before a knife sank into the right side of my lower back. I cried out, barelykeeping from falling to my knees. The sound of pounding footsteps grew closer, urging me to keep moving no matter the pain.
I quickly stumbled into my sanctuary, making it ten feet inside before collapsing onto the cobbled path. The garden was the place I’d always intended to make my last stand if it ever came down to it. Though it was dark, a hint of moonlight cast over my plants.
“Protect me,” I begged them in a pained wheeze.
In the next moments, nearly a dozen uprooted themselves from the ground. They moved between me and the entrance like wrathful guards as my cousin Ulmar stopped under the arch. I crawled a little farther away while keeping an eye on him. The blade in my back hurt, but I feared taking it out would make matters worse.
A crunchertrap snapped at my cousin in a warning. He swiped his sword at it, but the plant swayed back to avoid the blade. At the same time, one of the tractvines lashed out and caught Ulmar around the neck and face, sticking its pointed end into his left eye. He screamed as the tip of the tendril gouged into him over and over, with blood and other bits spilling from the wound.
