Broken Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 3) Read online

  “We simply want Matias to pay for all the wrongs he’s done,” he said, putting a hand out as if to calm me.

  I wouldn’t be calmed. “Then kill him, blast it! You can’t make him a slave!”

  Sirius snorted with disgust. “Killing him isn’t good enough, girl. He needs to suffer.” He tilted his head a moment. “His wives, however,” he added as an afterthought, “won’t be subject to slavery, as they almost certainly had no part in this. I had them released into the city, to earn their living like any other self-respecting individual.” He smoothed his mustache. “They may have some difficulties in finding work, but it’s only fair, after they’ve lived off the people’s labor for so long.”

  “What gives you the right?” I shot back. “You aren’t the king. Throwing women out into the streets and making Matias a slave. You’re just as bad as he is.”

  Sirius stood angrily. “I’m doing what’s best for the people, Adaryn. How could a rover possibly understand the complexities of running a city and its people? You know nothing!”

  Rover, was it? Stupid old goat.

  “He won’t agree to it,” I said at last. “He’s a magic user. Freedom is in his blood. He’ll die before being humiliated so.”

  Sirius smiled coldly, smoothing his mustache. “He won’t have a choice in the matter.”

  My eyes narrowed as I folded my arms across my chest. “How so?”

  Sirius turned to face one of the windows overlooking the city. “We have a . . . device of sorts that we are creating. Similar to a slave collar from Ruis, but different.”

  I couldn’t speak through the tightness I felt in my chest. A collar.

  “We won’t use it on anyone else, of course, just Matias. He will serve as an example, warning those who would abuse their power.”

  Sweat trickled down my back, and my mouth was dry. Sirius seemed to think my silence was agreement to his plan, and he continued.

  “I thought I’d start by having him rebuild the gate.” He chuckled, leaning back a little. “Maybe clean stables when he’s finished with that. I’m a creative man. I’m sure I can come up with plenty of work for him.”

  I mumbled something non-committal and left the room, jaw clenched. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone wearing a collar, even Matias. I was so distressed I walked right into Aaric before I saw him. He steadied me.

  “Hello, Adaryn, is Sirius in the throne room? I need to talk to him about—” He saw my expression and his eyes grew worried. “Adaryn, what’s wrong?”

  “The collar,” I mumbled. “They’re making a collar. For Matias.”

  Aaric looked surprised. “This is Sen Altare, Adaryn. They wouldn’t do anything like that here . . .” He trailed off, watching me. “You’re serious?” he exclaimed. He motioned me down the hall. “Why don’t you go lie down? I’ll talk to Mr. Archer. There must be some sort of misunderstanding.”

  I let Aaric steer me down the hall, moving mechanically, my mind racing. I’d just remembered what Sirius said earlier. Rover. He’d called me a rover and planned to collar Matias, another magic user. Left unchecked, Sen Altare was looking to be as bad as Ruis.

  My jaw clenched with determination. If I had anything to do with it, I wasn’t going to let this city get that far.

  13

  Bran

  Bran lengthened his stride, walking down one of the halls in the palace, when he noticed a familiar curvy figure walking ahead of him.

  “Grace!” Bran called.

  The young woman slowed, looking over her shoulder. She smiled when she saw him. “Hello, Bran,” she said amiably. “I haven’t seen you since, well . . .”

  “Since we took down Matias,” Bran finished, and the blonde woman nodded.

  “He was a pompous, conceited windbag,” she sniffed, and Bran grinned. Adaryn had used that term to describe Grace.

  “I wanted to congratulate you on the strategic plan you came up with for defeating him,” Bran continued. “They should give you a medal and make you a war general back in Ruis.”

  Grace laughed with delight, putting a hand to her mouth. “I would make a smashing general, wouldn’t I? Mother would be horrified, of course, but I think my father would be rather proud.” She put her hands on her hips, and stuck her chin out at a jaunty angle, posing, earning a laugh from Bran.

  “Sen Altare better be careful,” he joked. “Incur the wrath of the northern city and they just might send you down here to divide and conquer.”

  Grace gave a rather unladylike snort. “My loyalties are divided,” she said. “My home city on one side, my aunt and the Scholar’s Guild on the other. I could never go to war against either.”

  “Are your loyalties divided elsewhere, as well?” he asked solemnly, and Grace turned a lovely shade of pink.

  “Of course not.” She kept her eyes forward. “Well, not unless it benefited me in some way.”

  Bran had no idea what she meant by that, and was bemused to see her cheeks go from pink to scarlet. She muttered something about men that he couldn’t quite catch. She looked quite flustered, so Bran thought it might be a good time to change the subject to one he’d wanted to discuss with her for some time.

  “So what was your backup plan in the event the Fire Dust didn’t work and Matias dragged you and Adaryn to his harem?”

  Grace glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye, clearly amused. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, it does.” Bran looked down at her.

  Grace smirked, but after noticing the serious look on his face, her expression grew thoughtful, regarding him. She fished her hand down the low neckline of her dress—Bran coughed, averting his gaze—and procured a small, slim vial. It was filled with what looked like water.

  “See this?” She held it up to the light. Now that Bran examined it more closely, it looked slightly cloudy.

  “It’s Sleep Drought,” she said, “and is odorless and tasteless. It was created to help those who have trouble sleeping. One drop is enough to make one drowsy. Drink the entire bottle, and you will sleep three days straight, if it doesn’t kill you.”

  “And you were going to give this to Matias?”

  Grace smiled. “No, I was going to give it to Adaryn.”

  “Grace,” Bran growled.

  The pretty woman rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I was going to give it to Matias. You didn’t think I was planning on becoming a permanent fixture of his harem, do you?”

  Bran eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t have feelings for him?”

  She stared at him, her eyes wide. “I hardly knew the man. How can I develop feelings for someone I’ve only met once?”

  “It was more than once. You said you might be in love with him after you met him that first time, remember?” Bran countered. “When he healed your eye.” Fool man. What does it matter if she loves someone else? What does it matter if she has wit and a pretty face? She’s an Oppressor.

  “He’s very handsome,” Grace admitted, “but, then, I discovered—shocking, I know—that handsome isn’t everything.”

  Bran smothered his laugh. “That is shocking.”

  They’d come to a section in the hall where it split off in different directions. Grace started to glide down one when she realized he hadn’t followed. “I need to see my aunt before I leave.”

  “Leave?” Bran asked, bewildered. “Where are you going?”

  “To Ruis, of course,” Grace answered. “It’s time for me to go home.”

  “Why don’t you travel with us?” It was out before Bran had time to think it through. “It’ll be fun, and certainly safer.”

  Grace bit her lip, unsure. “I don’t think Adaryn would like that very much.”

  “Who cares what Adaryn thinks?” What in blazes is wrong with me? “I would enjoy your company, and Aaric will too, as long as you don’t interrupt his fool studying.”

  “You would?” Happiness blossomed on her face, and she beamed up at him. “I could use a strong nomad to keep me safe. Thank you,
Bran, I will consider it.”

  She turned on her heel and marched off down the hall. Bran took the stairs that would take him outside, a spring in his step.

  14

  Adaryn

  I stood before the collar. It was similar in make to those in Ruis, but different. It was thicker, and had more wires. I couldn’t bring myself to touch it, but had no qualms about calling up the magic to set fire to the infernal device. I watched the collar blacken and burn, a humorless smile on my lips. Aaric had spoken to Sirius, but had agreed with the despicable old man. Well, fine. I was taking matters into my own hands.

  It was midnight, and everyone seemed to be asleep, fortunately. After destroying the collar I left the Guild, slipping silently through the streets and through the tumbled mess of ruined gates. Getting into the palace was child’s play. The Guild members standing guard never even saw me. Sneaking through the palace halls, I descended several flights of stairs until I reached the dungeons. If Aaric or Bran knew what I was planning I’d be tied to a saddle and well on my way back to the clan by now.

  I’d taken the sky jewel from Aaric’s room while he slept, and, holding it, drew on its power, wrapping myself in shadow and light, becoming all but invisible to the guards keeping watch. It was a trick that Bran showed me, and it was proving to be quite useful now.

  Matias was kept in the lowest cell. It was cold and dank here, even in the middle of summer. There were two men standing guard outside his cell. I called forth enough magic to slam into them, knocking them unconscious.

  Looking through the cell door, I saw the former king. He was slumped in a sitting position, his head down. I focused the magic, and the lock melted off the cell door. I pushed it open, letting the shadows fall away from me. Matias lifted his head to stare at me, no hint of surprise on his features. “I knew it was you coming.”

  “Of course,” I snorted. “I’m pulling on the magic.” My mind recalled earlier memories and I narrowed my eyes. “How could you tell it was me when I came with the others in disguise? And earlier, when we blew up the barracks? I wasn’t using magic, then.”

  Still sitting, the once-king smirked at me. “It’s an ability I was born with. I can sense magic in all its shapes and forms. You don’t have to call the magic before I sense it in you, Adaryn.”

  “What about in the garden?” I countered. “When I was spying on you and discovered who you really were? You didn’t seem to sense me then.”

  Matias’ expression turned disgusted. “I was distracted by the fool officer delivering his news. I was aware of your magic the moment you spoke. You took off like a hare before I could react.”

  I frowned, thinking about it. I did my best to squash the feeling of jealousy that stirred inside me. I’d never heard of that ability before.

  One of the guards stirred behind me, snapping me back to the present. “Come with me,” I whispered, “and be quiet.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re going to be enslaved by Sirius Archer if you don’t,” I snapped, patience gone. “Move!”

  Matias stood and, after stretching his stiff muscles, walked over to join me. “You have it. The sky jewel.” He studied me with narrowed eyes. He loomed over me, and I took a step backward before catching myself. I drew on the sky jewel’s power, flooding myself with the magic. “Don’t try anything,” I warned. “I’ll leave you here if you try to take it.”

  He smiled, showing too many teeth. “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.”

  Still holding as much magic as I could manage, I pulled at the shadows again, wrapping them around us. I led him through the palace and out into the city. Stalking through the city, I marveled how no one even glanced our way. I could see Matias, and I knew he could see me. It was a lucky thing Bran wasn’t there. I suspected he wouldn’t be happy to learn I’d rescued the brigand-king.

  The gates leading out of Sen Altare were shut tight until dawn, so I led him up onto the city walls. I kept an eye on Matias, a little worried he might turn against me. He didn’t, but I watched him suspiciously just the same. Just because I didn’t agree with Sirius didn’t make Matias any less threatening.

  Standing on the walls, I dropped the shadows away from us. We looked out on the wilderness beyond the city for a moment. “I don’t know if what I’ve done is right,” I said at last, “but I don’t care. They were going to enslave you.” I didn’t look at his face, worried he’d see the bleak expression on mine, remembering the feel of the collar around my neck. “I don’t want you to think I freed you because I feel anything for you. I don’t. I hate you. But no one deserves slavery.” I sighed, an ache in my heart. “Is our kind accepted anywhere?”

  I coughed, wishing I’d kept the question to myself. It felt personal. Matias was watching me intently. I slipped my rucksack off my back and handed it to him. “There’s some rope and a hook for you to climb down from here. I’ve put some provisions in there as well. You’ll need them.”

  Matias smiled at me, tilting his head a little. “Thank you, Adaryn. Perhaps I misjudged you. Perhaps.”

  He knelt and rummaged through the pack, pulling out the coil of rope. He looked as if to secure it but paused, turning to gaze at the slumbering city of Sen Altare. A brief look of longing passed over his face, but then it was gone. “I may not have been the best king to the people of Sen Altare, but I was their rightful king. Farewell, sand cat.” He smiled at me, his eyes deep blue. “We will meet again.”

  I didn’t wait to see if he’d make it safely down the wall, but turned and snuck quietly back to my rooms, only stopping to quietly slip the sky jewel back under Aaric’s pillow.

  15

  Aaric

  “I’m glad to be back on the road,” Adaryn said happily to Aaric, riding next to him. She beamed at him, sighing in contentment. “The open sky, the dirt road, the smell of grass. Being outdoors is for me.”

  Aaric nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t really listening, his mind dwelling on the city they’d just left. Somehow Matias escaped his prison. Sirius Archer had been furious to discover that, and nearly turned Sen Altare on its head trying to find him, but the once-king had completely disappeared. The collar the Guild members had been working on was destroyed as well. Sirius didn’t make it a secret that he strongly suspected Adaryn. She’d fiercely denied it, but Aaric decided it was time to leave the city.

  Bran rode his black stallion up ahead, scouting for trouble, though with Matias out of power, the brigands were gone, and the roads safe. Miss Grace rode next to him, perched on her milky-white mare, leading a pack pony that was so laden with packages it was a wonder it could walk at all. The young woman from Ruis stuck to Bran like a burr to a coat. The nomad welcomed her company. A lot had changed since they left Ruis.

  Adaryn frowned at the two figures riding in front of them, her brow creasing. She didn’t remark on it, however, until that evening.

  Miss Grace had left the camp to fetch water. Aaric and Bran were setting up camp, and Adaryn was getting dinner ready. It was quiet until Adaryn broke the silence, staring after Miss Grace. “Odd that she offered to help. She must have a motive.” Her gaze turned to Bran. “You seem rather attached to Grace, Bran.”

  Bran smiled, not making eye contact with anyone as he erected a tent pole. “Do I?”

  Adaryn peered at him, her eyes narrowed. “You spend nearly every waking hour with the woman. What do you see in her?”

  Bran shrugged. “Guess I like a pretty face. Plus, she has a good heart, though she tries to hide it.” He grinned. “She does have a temper as fierce as yours. Nobody’s perfect, though.”

  “She’s an Oppressor.”

  Bran looked at Adaryn, his dark eyes hard. “And Aaric isn’t?”

  Adaryn stared stonily back. “No, he isn’t, actually. He’s one of us now. He has proven his character and loyalty to the clan.” She glanced in the direction Miss Grace had gone, but the blonde woman had walked down the slope and out of their line of vision. “Be careful, Bran.
She may collar you yet.”

  Bran rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what happened between you and Grace, but you might put aside your prejudice and try to get to know the real Grace before making assumptions.”

  “The real Grace is probably even worse,” Adaryn sniffed. “How can you be so blind?”

  “Your hypocrisy is astounding, Adaryn.” Bran stood and with a dark glare at the slim nomad woman, stalked off in the direction Miss Grace had gone, leaving Aaric to finish setting up the second tent.

  Adaryn threw her hands up and turned to Aaric. “Am I being unreasonable?”

  Aaric merely shrugged. Adaryn was in one of her moods again. He chewed his lower lip, pondering what had transpired.

  Bran was probably right, that there was more to Miss Grace than her vanity, but Aaric could also see the signs. Bran was falling for her hard. Miss Grace’s father was a magistrate of Ruis, however. A more unlikely match Aaric couldn’t fathom. What would it entail for the nomads and for Ruis?

  16

  Bran

  Grace walked down the hill toward the stream, a bucket in her hand. Bran padded after her silently. Adaryn had indicated surprise over Grace’s willingness to help and was suspicious.

  Bran smirked. Grace probably just didn’t want to be outdone by a nomad.

  Grace knelt by the stream, filling the bucket with water. Mud soaked the edge of her dress. Bran started in surprise and grinned hearing the string of curses that followed.

  “Let me help you with that.” Bran stepped forward to take the bucket.

  Starting, Grace fell with a squawk into the stream, splashing water up on the bank and Bran’s boots.

  “Grace!” Bran leapt forward, and unceremoniously hauled her, dripping wet, onto the bank. She sputtered in shock and indignation.

  “Don’t scare me like that,” she pouted, glaring daggers at him. Her hair was a wet, tangled mess, and a smudge of mud streaked across her nose. She handed the once-again empty bucket to him. “Get yourself some water, if you want it so bad.”