Page 53 of Across an Endless Sea

His hand is resting on the pommel, but that doesn’t mean anything. When I was a child, Ashton would jump out from corners and behind pillars, brandishing the sword and yelling ‘DEFEND YOURSELF’ at the top of his lungs. It was his way of teaching me vigilance, something that came in handy as I grew older.

Part of me expects him to do the same now.

Either that, or try to take my head on Cedwyn’s orders.

“Show me the mark,” Ashton orders, his voice lower now. “Your king requires proof.”

I don’t open my fist. “I owe him nothing.”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, lad. I’ll bring your severed hand to him if you make me.”

Calling his bluff, I whistle instead for Blizzard. “You can tellyourking that I look forward to returning to Calimnel with my Nicnevin.” I make the distinction deliberately. “And if he dares to put her in a position where she’s forced to regrow my hand for me, she will be coming with a full knowledge of his court’s legendaryhospitality.” I pause, watching my black stallion gallop across the sand towards me. “I trust your whispers have told you how she reacted in Siabetha, when her Guard was harmed. It would be a shame if she were to set her magic loose on the crystal tree next.”

My hand fists the reins and I swing up astride my horse, nearly kicking Ashton in the face as I do.

I’ll warn Rose about what to expect in the icy halls regardless of what happens now, but I’d rather not send her into a state where she loses control of her powers and destroys a city.

Ashton nods. “You realise what this will do, don’t you? Hawkith has heard the rumours already. She’s practically salivating. The other day I saw her polishing her tiaras.”

“Cedwyn and my mother can battle it out between themselves,” I retort angrily. “The Nicnevin has no interest in their petty sparring, and neither do I.”

I have no interest in being used by either of them again. I learned that lesson long ago.

Ashton moves closer, until he’s almost touching Blizzard, and I stiffen.

“Three centuries of hiding from court has given you silly ideas, lad.” He brushes a stray black hair out of his face. “Let me remind you how things truly stand.”

A flatness overtakes his eyes, an old tell I recognise, which gives me a microsecond to react.

I raise a wall of flame between me and him, reaching for my own sword to counter the threat.

It makes no difference. Ashton covers himself in ice, buying himself enough time to reach through and grab my hand.

Kicking him away, I urge Blizzard forwards, but the bastard keeps hold, swinging up behind me using his wings to keep himself in place. I hold my hand out, planning to summon my whip and drag him away, but the Call chooses that moment to flare, distracting me with a wave of Rose’s pain.

Ashton presses the advantage, directing a bolt of ice at my steed’s hooves and freezing them solid. Blizzard whinnies, losing his footing and catapulting the two of us across the beach.

We hit the sand like rocks. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, and before I can do more than catch my breath, my arm is wrenched back. Blinding pain assaults my nerves as they’re hacked apart.

Ashton rolls away, clutching my severed hand to his chest with a cackle. In his other hand, he holds a knife, rather than the toxic sword I feared.

That’s something, at least. I won’t be bleeding through my eyeballs for days until the enchanted quicksilver runs its course.

“I taught you better,” he scolds, forcing open my unresponsive fingers to examine Rose’s mark. “Tut tut. I taught you better than to let your queen die two times over, as well.”

“Fuck. You.” I pant, cradling my stump to my chest as I fight not to black out. “Rhoswyn is a thousand times the royal that Cedwyn is.”

“We shall see,” Ashton replies, whistling for his own horse. “Better get your queen to look at that fast. You never know when infection is waiting to strike.”

The smirk on his face tells me he knows exactly why that won’t happen, and I curse him as he strides away across the beach.

Then, in an act of retribution that might seem petty later, I summon my power and incinerate my own severed hand.

Ashton drops it as it goes up in flames, stepping back as I char the flesh beyond recognition. Soon, it’s only ash drifting on the breeze.

“Tell Cedwyn to enjoy my gift,” I spit, falling back on the black sand. “And tell him, if he takes his armies to the capital and routs the Fomorians, then I’ll not breathe a word of this to the Nicnevin.”

Ashton laughs, the deep sound echoing from his gut until I can’t help but look over and find him bent double, hugging his stomach.

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