Fate's Ransom(The First Argentines #4)

The door handle jiggled, and the door suddenly opened, splashing torchlight into the room.

“Lord Ransom, the poisoner has escaped the dungeon. She killed—” Suddenly his words stopped as he saw Ransom sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing fast, and then noticed the body crumpled on the floor.

“Water,” Ransom pleaded.

Dawson hurried to the pitcher on the far side of the room and filled a goblet. As he handed it to Ransom, he snarled to the others, “She’s already been here!”

Ransom took a soothing sip, and the cool water washed away the bitter taste. His magic churned inside him, lending him strength, but not enough. He felt weak all over.

“The prince and princess,” Ransom wheezed. “She’s going . . . to kill them. Poisoned me. Not fatal, but I’m weak.”

“Cecily!” Dawson gasped. “You two, stay with him. The rest, come with me!”

He charged from the room, and the two knights entered. One sighed upon seeing Galt’s corpse.

“The night watch,” Ransom said, his voice a raspy whisper.

“They’ve been summoned. Sir Simon has been awakened as well. The Espion are searching the castle.”

“She can make herself invisible,” Ransom said. But he could sense her. He alone could sense her. “Help me stand.”

“We can do this, my lord.”

“Obey me,” Ransom said, struggling to rise. The two knights helped him stand. “My . . . armor . . .” he panted.

They helped him finish putting on the hauberk, then one grabbed the sword he’d dropped and put it in the sheath. His leg burned with pain, but the scabbard kept it from bleeding. He had to stop Alix from killing Devon and Léanore. Otherwise, his own children would die as well. Hundreds of thousands would.

“Where should we take you, my lord?”

Ransom’s memory began to fog. Alix—she had been in his room. What had she asked him?

The Wizr board. She knew where it was being kept, which meant it needed to be moved. How long would he be able to remember? Part of him was tempted to tell them, but he didn’t recognize either man and thought it wise to practice caution. He put one foot ahead of the other, with the two knights assisting him, and they left the corridor. The torchlight gave off strange colors that made him dizzy. It was the poison working on him. Slowing him down. His very bones began to ache.

He closed his eyes, trying to sense Alix’s location. She was moving swiftly. But he knew the castle better than she.

“The queen’s tower,” he said. “Take me there.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As they walked, Ransom’s strength increased. Soon he didn’t need their support. He could walk on his own despite the injury to his leg. Thank the Fountain Alix didn’t know about his scabbard.

Confusion struck him as he realized he suddenly couldn’t remember where they were going or why.

“What’s happening?” he asked the knights, confused. “Where are we going?”

“The queen’s tower, as you said,” answered one of them. He looked at the other knight as if Ransom were going mad.

“The tower, yes,” Ransom said. That was right. His memory flared awake again. He could sense Alix. How had she escaped the dungeon? “The poisoner has escaped.”

“Yes . . . we know,” said the other knight, baffled.

They went down the stairs and started across the corridor. There were no other knights visible, but he heard voices echoing down the halls. The night watch was going from room to room.

When they reached the door leading to the tower, he motioned for them to open it. He knew Alix was above him, for he’d sensed her going up the stairs. Why would she go to the tower, though? There was no way out from there.

The knight opened the door, a sword in his free hand, and then backed away.

A torch bracketed to the wall revealed Cecily sprawled on the first steps, a dagger still in her ribs. He recognized the hilt on the blade—it bore the symbol of the Elder King. All the knights of the castle had one. He’d seen it a hundred times. Blood had soaked her dress.

No! Ransom hurried to her side, seeing her eyes still partly open. Had she died already?

“Ransom?” she whispered, her brow twitching.

“Get the night watch here! Now!” Ransom ordered, and one of the knights rushed away and began to shout the alarm.

Alix was nearly to the top. He grabbed the arm of the other knight. “She’s up there.”

“I’ll go,” said the knight with determination.

“She’ll kill you,” Ransom said. “But the prince . . . the princess . . . Cecily, are they here?”

He looked at her face and saw her nod once.

“Ran from her . . . needed . . . keep them safe.”

The knight began to run up the steps, sword in hand.

Ransom just gazed at her for a moment. She’d lost so much blood already. The wound was fatal. His heart panged. No—he couldn’t let her die. The Ondine had suggested he would have to forfeit his life. When he hadn’t fallen in battle, he’d thought there was a reprieve, but he’d only let himself believe that because he had so badly wanted it to be true. Drawing his sword, Ransom leaned it against the wall and unbuckled the scabbard.

“Tell . . . Dawson . . .” she whispered.

He would need the scabbard facing Alix. But Cecily needed it more. “You will live!” he said firmly. “You will go to the poisoner school, and you will protect the Argentines from such treachery in the future. And you and Dawson will be married. I swear it.” He left the belt attached and pressed the scabbard against her bosom. He placed her hand atop it to hold it there, and the raven sigil sparked to life once again.

Pain flared from his leg, and blood began to seep from his pants. He tugged his belt loose and wrapped it around his leg, tightening it to the point of it aching. He cinched the leather strap and then rose, pressing his hand against the wall.

Cecily’s head lolled to the side, but he saw her chest rise and fall, the scabbard going up and down with it. He pulled the dagger from her ribs, and no surge of blood came. He grabbed his bastard sword with the other hand and started up the stairs.

Why was he in the tower? How had Alix escaped the dungeon? He couldn’t comprehend how anyone could have been so careless as to set her free. Or maybe one of the Espion was secretly loyal to Occitania? His mind was a jumble, but he knew his path. With his leg screaming in pain, he lurched up the steps, taking them two at a time.

A shout of surprise came from above, and the knight who’d ran ahead came plummeting down the shaft of the tower. Ransom saw his body go rushing by, something that happened too quickly for him to intervene, and then there was a sickening noise as the knight landed on the paving stones at the base of the tower.

Ransom looked up into the darkness. “Alix!” he shouted.

He grunted as he continued up the stairs, his chest heaving with the exertion. A bitter taste came into his mouth again. He gritted his teeth, stumbling into the wall of the tower. One wrong step, and it might all end now, before he even reached them. Slow. He was too slow.

Sweat streaking down his back, he found himself thinking of the previous occasions he’d climbed this tower. He’d come to this very tower to visit Claire. Claire and Emiloh. Now the former queen’s daughter was out to destroy the last of the Argentines.

He couldn’t let her. Whatever it cost.

When he reached the upper landing, the door at the top of the tower was already open. He sensed Alix in the chamber beyond it and charged forward. His leg spasmed, and he nearly collapsed, but through sheer strength of will he kept himself up.

Alix stood at the far side of the room, facing Emiloh’s old bed. The curtains of the bed had been yanked aside, and the only light came from the balcony window. The moon was a silent witness to the scene.

The poisoner turned to face him, her mouth a snarl of frustration.

“You will not stop me,” she said threateningly.