Page 80 of MidKnight
Answers! We’ll finally get sarding answers! I thought.
But no sooner did Cerena reach out to grab a page than the entire mass of parchment transformed into a swarm of bees.
I screamed and covered my head as buzzing filled my ears.
Quinn swatted one away and was immediately stung. He grabbed his sore hand.
The rest of my knights flung their hands out to protect their faces. The bees grew angry at the intrusion. They attacked.
Stings rained down on my head and neck. I swatted the bees, screeching at them. I lashed out, blasting the room with so much peace power that everyone swayed. The bees clattered to the floor, turning back into pages once they hit the stones. I swooped down, grabbing several, ignoring the gashes in my wrists and the pain from a wound deep in my thigh. Declan did the same, albeit slowly. He was dazed from the peace magic.
Ryan scooped me up and started healing me despite my protests.
“You’re getting blood all over the pages!” he scolded.
I forced myself to be still and take deep breaths. My heart calmed down as my wounds closed.
We’re close to answers, I told myself. The closest we’ve been.
But the moment Donaloo bent and picked up a page, they turned into ants. The little black insects scurried around the room, slipping into cracks, crawling onto the vines, disappearing into the flowers and disturbing the purple pixies.
“A very thorough protection spell,” Cerena looked appreciative. Not angry. Like she should have. As I felt.
Sarding shite.
Our answers were getting lost in the flower petals and leaves. I lunged out of Ryan’s arms, only half-healed from my gashes, eyes locked on an ant. I squished it against a vine in the wall. It turned back into a page under my fingers. “Squish them!” I cried.
Everyone fell to stomping and smacking—everyone but Donaloo and Cerena who froze after Declan yelled, “Not you! The pages are protected from you!”
I was somewhat surprised they listened. But I didn’t have time to analyze. I was too busy smacking ants on the floor.
Declan tried to shake a purple vine, and that sent a whole group of pixies flying at him. His shirt was shredded in seconds by their tiny yellow swords and he released the vine, backing away. Donaloo tried to get out of his way and backed into a blue and green vine, which sprayed mist out over us. A mist which smelled very much like skunk.
The door swung open. Jorad appeared. His lip curled when he smelled us. It curled further when he had the opportunity to look around the room and saw us. “The party from Rasle are ready to take their leave. I suppose I should have them wait, while you all get … as clean as might be possible.”
Sard it all. Of course. Rasle was leaving. I had a dinner with my duchesses to attend. And I smelled like a chamber pot. I pressed my lips together and took a deep breath through my nose. I had to decide if I wanted to offend Isla by making her wait or offend her by appearing like this.
I looked down at the two tiny bits of parchment in my hand. They were all I’d retrieved. My knights had similar results. Most of the pages had been lost.
My eyes scanned one of the scraps I held. I wasn’t ready to decide yet what the hell I was going to do with Isla. All I really wanted was proof she was going to war. Proof she’d ordered that djinni to attack. Proof enough so I could lock her in my dungeon.
The pages didn’t provide proof. The couple sentences were vague. Until one phrase caught my eye.
“She oversteps. There will never be eight kingdoms—"
The parchment cut off.
Eight kingdoms. I glanced up at Donaloo. He’d mentioned eight kingdoms before. And I’d mentally dismissed him as foolish. I wanted to ask. But I wasn’t certain I’d get a straight answer.
Jorad interrupted my thoughts. “What way would you like to offend Rasle, Your Majesty? With your smell or your tardiness?”
Gods, I needed to smack that butler again.
“Bloss,” Cerena called softly. “If you don’t mind, could I try to help?”
I turned to her, where she shifted from foot to foot, a small smile on her face, as though the old woman was excited.
“Help?”
