Felling Kingdoms (Book 5) (16 page)

Chapter 21

Robyn stood before the mirror in stark terror. Her face was smooth and emotionless. Her maids had dressed her in a beautiful gown of red and gold. One of her fancier pieces reserved for the finest occasions. She was uncertain why she had to wear it now.

She laid awake for hours that night, horrible images and realizations ruining her mind. Virgil arranged for their wedding to be officiated by a retired Commander Robyn met once. His name was Thorne Ravenscroft, and the Prince was positively beaming when he told her. The honor should have fallen to her father, or Cordis who had been more present than King Erian who died when she was young. After that, her Advisor should have wed them, but they found themselves lacking in leadership, so Thorne was called. General Calsifer has been asked but refused.

“The dress is lovely,” her eldest maid said, but her face was sour. She did not approve of the marriage, and she was not the only one. Everyone who knew her or the Head Mage knew she was making a terrible decision, but they lacked status to challenge her. Mistress Marya had not brought her meals up since the wedding was announced.

“Does the hair please you?”

Robyn hardly remembered when the ladies put it up. “Of course,” she replied looking at the way it wove and twined around her head. Gabriel would have liked it.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Gabriel should be here. She should be
there
. She desired to slip through the hinge more than anything. To sit by his side if only to hold his hand and let him know she loved him.

“Oh dearie, you will mess your powder,” a maid said and dabbed under her eyes.

A knock sounded on the door, and the short, round palace keeper Ellian was permitted in. Elian had taken Aisling’s death with dignity, knowing slack would have to be picked up until a new Advisor was named. “Prince Virgil has already gone down and requests your presence.”

“Are you ready, Your Grace?”

‘No! A thousand-thousand times no!’
She stood and smiled. “I am.”

“Oh, you look lovely.” Her maids smiled—except for the eldest. Ellian was a dignified woman who spent her entire life around nobles. If she disproved of the match, she showed nothing as she opened the door.

Robyn willed herself to move slowly, but after a week, she knew there was nothing she could do to break from the cursed ring. She swept through the bedchamber, into the study and down the hall. Robyn met Aisling’s parents several times, but they had been aloof since being told of their daughter’s death. They were not in the anteroom where they spent most of their time.

Guards flanked her as she marched down the hall to the main ballroom, passing by knowing nobles. Word of her marriage spread faster than lightning through the palace, and more than one of her loyal subjects was jaded at not meriting an invitation. No one had. Only a few people were required to witness the swearing for it to be official and Virgil wanted to make it quick.

She did not. The longer she waited the greater the chance someone would save her.
‘Shaun! Gabriel! Anyone!’
her mind screamed, but her lips were thin and closed.

The walk to the ballroom should have taken long minutes, but she arrived in the span of a blink, staring at the massive doors cracked open for her. There was to be no fanfare, no music, no trumpets and raised flags, no long walk towards her betrothed. She was simply required to be there.

Her guards stopped outside the door, and she peeked through, suddenly feeling desperately alone.

Gabriel woke slowly, wishing he could return to his dreams where he was free. He kept his eyes closed and tried to drift back off.

Someone knocked on his door respectfully, and he knew it was Afton. The girl was anything but improper.

“Good mornin’, Head Mage,” she greeted warmly, looking well despite her trials. “I’ve got a wee bit of time before I need to return to Galloway, so I t’ought I’d work on your hips.” She spoke with a gentle tone, but he sensed a change in her, a new strength in her voice. Standing beside him, she ran a pattern over his face and removed the stubble growing. It gave him a sense of humanity though he could not feel it. She rolled him to a side and bent a knee, working her way down through his muscles. It was terribly painful but letting his muscles go to waste was nearly as bad.

“Galloway has feelin’ in his legs, but he is in terrible pain, and I cannot work out why. He could walk, but I don’t t’ink t’ pain will let him. Have you dealt wit’ t’is before?”

He blinked, but she missed his reaction, so she put a finger over his eyes and felt his eyelashes for the response.

“I t’ought I healed t’ proper connections, but now I fear t’ere is somet’in’ far deeper.” She adjusted her elbow in his hip and wound her way through his muscles, putting two fingers against his spine. “His injuries started here and went to his ankles, but it’s
here
t’ connection is muddled. I fear I might have pinched somet’in while rebuildin’ his bones.” She sighed sadly and dug her elbow deeper making him grunt.

“Sorry. The Secondhand is both breathin’ by himself and beatin’ his heart, but he has yet to wake. He lost a tremendous amount of blood, so I am not surprised he is still down. Markus woke t’is mornin’ and is mobile but cannot feel most of his torso. We had to rebuild much of his chest, and a good portion of it has unconnected nerves.”

Gabriel watched her out of the corner of his eye. He
never
heard her speak so much. She was always so timid and restrained, but she spoke with a sense of ownership. It brought courage and responsibility to her tone.

“Dagan remains unresponsive.” She bent his knee closer to his chest. “I…I fear your father took a wound I cannot heal.”

Gabriel felt his throat tighten.

“He is givin’ up, Head Mage. You’ve been taken from him, Aisling was taken, his body was taken, and he has not’in’ left. I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard of it happenin’. Sometimes t’ body gives up, t’ heart breaks, t’ will releases.”

‘How much time does he have?’
Gabriel willed his tongue to speak, but she made no response.

She worked on him silently for half an hour, rotating him, and beginning on the other side. Nearing completion of the hip, Gabriel heard heavy footsteps in his study and looked up in curiosity. After a week of listening to people come and go, he did not recognize this step.

Shaun appeared in the doorway, backing his way in, and turned smoothly to reveal Mikelle in his arms. Her face was tight and eyes puffy. Gabriel knew in an instant Shaun carried her not because she was tired but because she could not walk.

Tears came to his eyes as Shaun stepped up to the bed and sat Mikelle on it. Her usually done-up hair was tied back in a simple bun. Her face was void of any power, her dress artless and lightweight. She locked eyes with Gabriel and moisture rose to them. “Don’t start,” she pleaded with him, so he closed his eyes tightly.

‘Oh stars, Mikelle, I wish I could heal you.’

She braced a heavy hand on his waist, and he saw how awkwardly she sat beside him. She took up his hand with her other, and he tightened it as hard as he could. Shaun stood with his back to them, staring at the cold hearth with his head bowed.

Afton rolled him to his back with a push from Mikelle, but she lost her balance and fell over his stomach. Mikelle looked ashamed and tried to push herself up, but he gripped her hand tighter. Her eyes met his, and she, who had learned to read him so well, lowered her head and enveloped him tightly, both needing an embrace.

Mikelle eventually raised herself up and dried her eyes. Shaun turned with thin lips and a frown and for a moment. Gabriel thought he would disapprove of their connection, but he clasped his hands behind his back and lowered his head further. Emotions traipsed across his face as he bit his lips and clenched his jaw. Courage simmered below, and it straightened him.

“I can’t bear to bring you t’is news, but I must. Virgil plans to marry Robyn t’is mornin’.”

Gabriel looked away and closed his eyes.
‘Not this. Not now.’

“I…plan to stop it and bring her here…but wit’ your current state, I wanted to see if t’at was even your desire anymore.”

“
Shaun
,” Mikelle hissed reproachfully.

“I have to do what is best for t’ kingdoms,” he snapped in an authoritative tone Gabriel never heard him use.

Gabriel knew it was only a matter of time before his will gave out, and he would break once again. He expected it to come a week ago, but he managed to hold out day after day as his kingdom fell to pieces and his loved ones died around him.

But what rose in his chest was not a sense of despair. Energy swelled within him as desperation replaced anger and hopelessness. It raged against his binds. He could feel them pulsing as he pushed.

He held his breath and shoved. His eyes clenched shut, and his hand gripped Mikelle’s fiercely.

“Gabriel?” she breathed worriedly. “Stars, he’s seizing.”

He took in another deep breath and held it as his eyebrows furrowed tightly.

“No, please, Gabriel not yet,” Mikelle begged. “I still need you here.”

‘I’m going nowhere.’
Finally he had what he needed. The grief of the Castrofax; tweaking Robyn’s personality; the attack on his Council, death of his mother, Lewis, and Penny; Dagan who would not wake; Galloway and Mikelle who would not walk; Lael who was crippled; Challis captured; his father giving up on life; his kingdom left without a leader; raging Arch Mages, and now Robyn who would the marry wrong man. Everything compounding on itself was all he needed.

The Castrofax shattered.

He threw his left hand up and caught the shards mid-air with an Earth pattern. His eyes closed for fear the illusion would vanish if he opened them.

The room was silent but for his gasping breath.

The blessed Elements riled with him, Fire raging, Water spiraling, Earth rising, and Spirit gliding through his chest.

He slowly released his tight grip on his vision and saw the long line of his arm extending upward. A fist clenched holding a twisting green pattern. His arm looked strange, harder and more taut than usual, his muscles pronounced against his tightly-clinging skin.

Someone sucked in a breath, and he looked to Mikelle who sat there gaping. Shards of glass hovered between their faces, casting sparkling diamonds across her skin that fractured through her tears.

Shaun and Afton stood motionless with aghast expressions.

“Someone better bring me pants,” Gabriel finally said, cutting the tension.

Mikelle ducked under the glass and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing. Gabriel held her with one arm as he compiled the shards beside him. He set a delve into her back, sensed the missing connections, and set the pattern strong enough to heal her.

She suddenly bolted up and looked at him with wide eyes. She slid off the bed and landed solidly on her feet. Shaun stood with his pattern focusing on her, then Gabriel, then Mikelle again, his mouth agape. She embraced Shaun’s neck in her glee as he stood there in shock. Coming back to reality, he hugged her as if she was the only thing holding him to this plain. He spun her around twice and set her down with a gleaming smile.

“I knew it,” he breathed to Gabriel as he let her go. “I knew if you had t’ right amount of pressure, you could break it.”

Gabriel slowly pushed himself up, feeling the stretch in every new muscle that was far greater than he ever worked it to. “How did you figure that out?” His voice felt hoarse but grew with strength. Afton appeared from his dressing room with a handful of clothes and set them beside him. She poured him a mug of water and held it out with a terse look until he drained it.

“Because Glittering never held any Mage stronger t’an an Eight, and you loosened your muscles. I t’ought if you could loosen a few, what was to stop you from breakin’ it entirely?”

Gabriel paid him a grateful look. “Thanks for not giving up on me.” He stretched forward, feeling his back pop and crack as everything realigned itself. He never thought it would feel so sweet to move again. “Everybody out, I need to change.”

Mikelle grinned. “They’re blind, and I’ve seen everything.”

He grumbled but slid off the bed and draped a sheet around his waist. He carried his clothes to the washroom where he took a quick dip in the hot water and hurriedly dressed. Every muscle in his body begged for release, and he felt tension slowly slide out with every motion. It felt strange to walk again especially with all the work Afton had done.

“When is Robyn getting married?” He emerged in a pair of silver-stitched trousers and a tight-fitting shirt, feeling the gap where his flesh used to fill it out.

“You should have let me take them all in,” Mikelle taunted. The clothes felt baggy everywhere, and he synched his belt up past its usual notch.

“I don’t know, mate.”

Gabriel went to his dressing room to exchange the bronze-stitched coat. Afton grabbed for a silver vest and matching coat, throwing them on. “Where to first?”

“T’ infirmary,” Afton replied. “And walk t’ere. People need to know you are free.”