Page 51 of Shattered Glass

He dons simple hose and tunic, as he will spend most of the fight as Aren. He’ll be more powerful that way, and since magic can’t touch him, he’ll be safer. It won’t protect him from arrows or swords, but I have a plan for that. After he packs his axes and leather protective gear in a bag, I make him sit on the floor while I braid his hair. “That goes both ways, you know,” I say, bringing back our earlier conversation. “Don’t you or Aren do anything foolish out there. I need you by my side for the rest of my life.”

He tilts his head back, his lips tipping up into a teasing smile. “Is that a proposal?”

I push his head back down so I can finish tying off the braid. “What if it is?”

“I’ll give you my answer when the battle is finished and you stand triumphantly over your fallen enemy.”

My heart skips a beat, and I press a kiss on his head. “A fine reason to make sure we win, then.”

Ourlittlearmyoccupiesevery inch of the square and spills out into the adjoining lanes. Although it’s not so little anymore with the addition of the ones provided by Granton and Alba. Sitting on Zohar’s back, I run my gaze over the company, which now numbers in the hundreds. The horses, decked out in metal armor, chew on their bits, calm even through the current of excitement humming through the air.

Half of our numbers ride horses while the others are on foot. Armor, shields, and weapons have been provided for everyone who needed them, and I know I will owe Merlin much when this is done. More than once I have wondered why he is exerting himself so. He has asked for nothing—not gold, nor land, not even so much as a title. Without him, our cause would have failed at the start. Is there some motivation I am unaware of? I mentally shrug and turn my thoughts to other matters. Whatever his intentions are, he seems to be on our side, and I’ll take every ounce of help I can get.

Cassian pulls Fire Heart to a stop beside me, checking that I’ve been allocated weapons. My trusty bow and quiver have been slung over my back, while a short sword rests in its scabbard attached to the saddle. Both sets of his axes are on display, the ones from the Valkyries on his back, the others at his waist. Zohar and Fire Heart press their noses together in greeting, the clinking of their bridles lost amongst the noise of the crowd.

“Ready?” Cassian asks, and I shake my head. I cast my gaze out over the troops. Robin and his men, the dwarfs, the Valkyries, the armies. My throat constricts at the sight of the villagers and farmers, guilt raging in my chest. They have chosen to be here, they want to fight. But they have no magic, no training, no real way to defend themselves. I know what I must do, what I must sacrifice to defeat Morana and wrest my kingdom from her control. I have made my peace with what lays ahead and have accepted my destiny. But they shouldn’t have to risk their lives for me to do so, and I know not everyone standing here now will still be doing so at the end of the day.

Do I have the right to order them to stay behind? And if I do, am I just as bad as Morana by taking away their choice? Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I turn inward. I do not want to be the kind of monarch that asks others to give their lives for them. But I also don’t want to spit on their loyalty. They may want to fight for a variety of reasons, but their allegiance is one of them. They want Morana dethroned, and for me to take my rightful place as queen. Do I have the right to take that away from them?

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Cassian murmurs just loudly enough for me to hear. The man knows me too well, I am an open book to him. He allows me to just sit, staring at him blankly as I make up my mind. He offers his support without demanding I tell him what’s on my mind. He trusts me to ask if I need help or advice and doesn’t talk over me or take the decision from me. I would love him for an eternity for that alone.

In his eyes, I find the answers and squeeze his fingers in thanks. Clicking my tongue, I move Zohar to the center of the square and raise a fist in the air. Cassian lets out a piercing whistle and it eventually goes quiet as people peer toward me.

“We go to fight Morana!” I shout, and they raise their weapons and cheer. “Each of you has chosen to be here today, and I know I am the most blessed of princesses to have your loyalty and support.” I fist my hand and place it over my heart. “Know that your love and loyalty have been marked. Should you change your mind about wanting to join us, know that you will face no punishment or recrimination. I love my people, and would not now, or ever, force anyone to join in a fight for the crown.” Zohar stamps her foot and snorts, causing laughter to spread across the square.

“We are with you, Princess!” a voice shouts from the far side. A wide grin grows across my face as more cheers go up amongst much thumping of weapons against shields.

“For Valderán!” Cassian shouts, and Merlin pounds his staff into the ground. In the course of a heartbeat, we materialize in the fields outside Ardavan Palace, cloaked by Merlin’s magic. Everyone has been briefed on the plan. There’s no turning back now.

Chapter 37

Morana

Strollingthroughthehalls,I hum a happy little melody. I revel in the feeling as it is not something I am particularly familiar with. The few servants or huntsmen I come across stare at me in horror, their eyes wide with terror. I waggle my fingers at them and pass them by, ignoring their sighs of relief as they scurry away like the vermin they are.

Snow White is dead, Silas might as well be, and each day, my magic encroaches farther north. Impatience tugs at me but I toss it away, unwilling to entertain it. I have waited years, decades even, for my revenge, and I will have it.

A roar shatters the silence, echoing through the halls. I tilt my head, curiosity plucking at me. Rubbing a hand down the goose bumps that have sprouted on my arms, I listen intently but hear nothing further. Moving silently down the hallway, I peer around the corner. Nothing. Eyes narrowing, I move down the next, my gaze sweeping from side to side.

The torches extinguish simultaneously, small trails of smoke filtering up to the ceiling. “Huntsmen!” I shout, but no reply is forthcoming. “Where did they all go?” I grumble under my breath. They were here only moments ago. Another roar, closer this time, has the hairs rising on the back of my neck. Racing over to the balcony, I lean over, eyes flying wide when my gaze lands on a huge beast which appears to be part lion, part eagle, part ram.

It leaps into the air, its powerful wings carrying it toward me. I spin on my heel and race back the way I came, heading toward the tower. Peering over my shoulder, I suck in a breath when I see the creature stalking me, its head lowered, eyes fixed on me like I’m its last meal.

My magic begins to swirl, and I shoot it at the creature. It slides off it seamlessly. True fear, something I have not felt in decades, settles over me like a mantle. A myth I heard long ago filters into my mind, the story of an ancient beast that magic has no effect on.Manticore.

It snarls at me, saliva dripping from its ten-inch fangs. An explosion follows, shaking the foundations of the palace, causing me to nearly lose my footing. The manticore gains on me, one step of his equaling three of mine. Panic tightens my throat and when another blast comes, I teleport myself to the front doors of the palace. I slam the doors shut, barricading them with powerful spells which should keep the manticore from escaping and coming after me.

Pursing my lips, I wonder where it came from and how it got inside. The good-for-nothing servants must have left the gates open, or the huntsmen were too cowardly to stop it. A whimper snaps my head to the side, and I grit my teeth when I see several servants huddling behind a hay cart, Silas amongst them.

Just as I am about to rip into them for removing him from the castle, they shriek, ducking down. A bright light flashes and the curtain wall shatters in an explosion of stone and dust. My hands curl into fists as deep vicious anger begins to grow low in my belly. Three lightning bolts race across the sky, each one hitting the outer walls. The servants run for their lives, their faces filled with panic and dismay, dragging a stumbling Silas off with them.

Before I can do anything about that, thunder booms so deeply that I stagger on the steps. The scent of ozone makes my eyes water, blurring my vision just as another volley of lightning bolts strikes the grounds around the palace. There are only two people I can think of . . . but no, it can’t be. No one has seen Thor or Zeus in years.

I storm down the stairs, skirting debris from the walls. Why would either of them attack me? Thor, I can understand, especially if he found out about his brother. But I refuse to believe he could have discovered my secret—the mask I wear is too perfect, my deceptions too strong.

Using my magic to elevate me, I soar upward until I’m above the tree line. Another lightning bolt whizzes past me, so close it singes my dress. I pat the flames out, growling, before throwing my arms out. “Come out and face me, you coward!” I scream at the heavens. “Your power is no match for mine!”

How dare the gods come for me. Do they not know who I am? I throw my head back, malicious laughter pouring from me as my shadows swirl like a tornado. They have no idea who they are dealing with.

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