Instead, he slipped from tree to tree, just behind Caedmon, the sound of the Light Kingdom’s army moving through the forest growing louder and louder. Finally, Caedmon lifted his fist and they all halted. Squinting, Lorcan could just make out the marching figures of the éadrolanian soldiers. Females and males dressed in the colors of the forest, with weapons strapped to their bodies, moved quickly forward. They weren’t marching at full speed, most likely trying to conserve energy for the battle ahead, so he could see their faces briefly before they moved past him. The commanders were on horses, guiding their troops toward their inevitable defeat.
All their plans were about to come to fruition—all of them. Lorcan couldn’t let himself think too much about it, afraid his feelings or scent would give him away. Hopefully his father attributed it to being excited and nervous about completing the plan to kill Queen Evelayn.
And then he saw her. The queen.
She was surrounded by priestesses (so she’d decided to be a bit more cautious than her mother, he noted), and they were all riding white mares. All of the women’s faces were veiled, just as Caedmon had said they would be. When he’d scouted out the palace and tried to discover what routes the army frequented, he’d caught sight of her, and he’d told them she’d been wearing a mourning veil, as were all of her priestesses. Caedmon hadn’t been sure if it was an attempt to keep her true features from being readily identified, or if it was just her unique form of mourning. Lorcan had to suppress the urge to attack at that very moment—but he knew better. Only his father had enough power to kill her. And only she had enough power to kill his father. If he alerted her to their presence too soon …
Caedmon whistled once, a short, quiet trilling sound that expertly echoed the call of a sparrow. The signal for King Bain to move forward with his priests and take his position. Just as they’d assumed, the queen and her priestesses were at the end of the procession. An entire battalion of warriors brought up the rear to protect her from attack from behind. It was more than they’d expected, but still not nearly enough to stop them. Not with King Bain and both of his sons to contend with.
Or so his father thought.
Lorcan felt his father’s presence before he heard the soft footfalls of his approach. The power Bain exuded called to the stone in Lorcan’s own forehead. Someday, he would be the one to wield that power. Someday, he would be the one to rule their kingdoms.
But first, they had to finish what they’d started.
Caedmon had just lifted his hand to make the final signal, when he paused, his head cocked. Lorcan froze as well, his hands halfway lifted, prepared to attack. He’d heard it, too. He spun around just in time to see a handful of Draíolon dressed in dark, close-fitting clothing rushing at blinding speed through the forest, straight toward them.
Evelayn didn’t pause when she realized they’d been spotted. Everything had been exactly as Caedmon had promised—the formation of the king and his sons, their location, everything. She only had a split second before the king turned and realized what had happened. She lifted her hand and shot a blast of light at his back. But one of his priests shouted a warning and simultaneously threw a pulsing ball of shadowflame at her. She had to throw her body to the side, scraping her arm and face on the branches of a tree to avoid being hit. The black flames erupted against the trunk she’d been standing by with a reverberating boom that shook the ground.
Kel and Teca rushed forward, throwing blasts of white-flame and light at the princes, while the other priestesses who had come with her fought the other Dark Draíolon. They’d changed the plan slightly, having other Draíolon attack with her, so if Bain did catch anyone else’s scent when he was chasing her it wouldn’t strike him as suspicious.
She’d failed at the first attempt—to get him from behind before being spotted. But she knew it couldn’t have been that easy. It was time to move on to the real plan.
Evelayn hurried around the trees, trying to ignore the sounds of the fighting going on behind her, searching for King Bain. She’d expected him to come for her, but instead she found him standing in front of someone else.
“No!” She rushed forward, but it was too late. He had Caedmon trapped.
“Make it worth it!” Caedmon shouted, his eyes meeting hers just before King Bain shot a jet of darkness that blasted through his chest and he crumpled to the ground, dead.
The king whirled to face her, and Evelayn pulled up sharply upon confronting the King of Dorjhalon.
Bain would have been handsome, with his metallic black hair, silver eyes, and the rare coppery sheen to his skin, if it weren’t for the rage contorting his face and the gleam of madness in his gaze. Though he was nearing three hundred, he still looked as if he were in the prime of his life. Evelayn knew ruling monarchs could live longer than average Draíolon because of their direct access to the power—some reaching five or even six hundred years old. But he barely looked older than his sons.
“Do you honestly think this will work?” He sneered at her. “Do you truly think you can beat me?” He shot a blast at her, but it was only halfhearted; she easily dodged it. He was toying with her. So sure of his victory, even with his plans going awry.
Evelayn didn’t bother responding. Instead, she looked into his eyes—into the eyes of the Dark Draíolon who had killed both her parents, who had spent ten years trying to tear apart the fabric that held their world together, all because of his insurmountable greed and selfishness. Evelayn looked into his face and saw nothing but endless hunger.
And she did as Tanvir had counseled her. She let all her rage and pain and frustration surge up, calling to the magic until it burned in her conduit stone, begging for release.
“Yes, actually, I do,” she finally responded with a smile.
And then she turned and ran.
THERE WERE CRASHES BEHIND HER AND SHE COULD only pray to all the gods above that it was Bain following her.
There was nothing she could do to help Kel or Teca or anyone else battling the princes and those behind them, except to defeat the king. Evelayn sped through the forest, the trees whipping past in a blur as she hurried toward the place where Tanvir and the others waited. They would only have one chance for this to work.
Even running as hard as she could, she sensed King Bain keeping pace with her. And she was certain he was a much better shot at full speed than she was. They were almost there—she just had to go a little bit faster. Evelayn pushed her legs forward until her muscles screamed at her, begging for her to slow or stop. The hot afternoon air ripped through her lungs, but she didn’t let up. The tree right next to her head exploded, and Evelayn stumbled and nearly fell to avoid the blast of it. He was closer than she’d thought.
Go, go, go, she screamed at herself, launching her body forward again. There was the clearing—almost there—
And then she was hit from behind. She crashed to the ground, pain exploding through her legs.