Page 22 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

So much precious metal must seem like a king’s fortune to them.

The two men look up hopefully at their leader for his silent approval. He looks me up and down. My cloak covers my gown, the skirt muddy from the river, and with no weapons in his sight, it only takes mere moments of silent deliberation. He must not view me as the threat he should since he nods at the other two.

A grave error on his part.

Like greedy children lunging for candy, they each attempt to take the gold from me with their iron-covered hands.

That’s all I need.

My power rushes from my palms, rising up through the gold pieces, as their metal fingers connect with the now-glowing gold. The magic surges into their armor.

The metal on their wrists tightens painfully as they reach for their swords, but my magic is quicker than they are, flowing up to their helmets. Their visors slam down over their faces, fusing the two metal pieces, blinding them. The metal around their neck tightens.

Not to kill them, just to disarm and distract them.

Both men, having forgotten about me, reach to remove the helmets but the fingers of their metal gloves fuse together, forming a fist.

The magic rushes down, melting the armor over their feet and throwing them off-balance, sending them colliding into the dusty road, the clatter echoing around us.

The rider throws his leg over his horse’s back and slams into the ground, his armor rattling, ready to fight. A slicing noise echoes off the trees as he unsheathes his sword, but he makes no move to attack. Standing in front of Jedrick, he positions his legs apart defensively with his sword raised. He shifts back and forth, seemingly undecided about what to do next, before he rips off his helmet and metal gloves, throwing them to the forest floor.

Finally, a man with some intelligence. It won’t be enough.

His outraged expression only adds fuel to my delight. He is handsome, or at least he would be if he weren’t quite so livid. With dark brown eyes and curly dark hair that falls down to his clean-shaven square jaw, his light tan skin is dusted with sweat. He appears to be in his late thirties but mortal ages are not any fae’s expertise.

“Why are you doing this?” the man demands. “You have no idea the importance of what he’s doing, who he’s saving.”

Jedrick isn’t saving anyone. “You have something I want, so I’ll be taking over little Jedrick’s journey. You can take your friends back to wherever you came from and—” I laugh a little. “—find a blacksmith.”

The men entombed in their armor roll around at his feet.

I am giddy with the knowledge that two of the three men have been disarmed, and the only thing standing between me and that crown is a lone man covered in metal. I unhook the bag over my shoulder and toss it in the dirt off to my side. The smile he receives is of near-feral delight.

My great-great-grandmother was exiled for making that crown. Forced every generation before me to live a lonely, cursed life in this forest. I will have redemption for the fae woman who have come before me.

I want it back.

His eyes grow wide as he watches the gold in my hands shift back into a glimmering dagger before he glances over to his companions, his massive shoulders sink dramatically in what I’m sure he thinks is the appearance of defeat. As the air inside the helmets has been restricted, the men roll slowly, about to lose consciousness. He moves over to the first incapacitated man, appearing to take my offer and leave, but at the last minute, he lunges at me and swipes the sword towards my chest.

Unfortunately for him, I’m just as fast. I grab the sharpened point of the sword as it flies towards my neck. The sword melts instantly into my palm. The impact of the hit stings a bit but his sword molds into my hand, obeying me, bending immediately to my magic as I take hold of the melting blade. He tries to drop thehandle, taking a few steps back, but it is far too late for that now. Like a snake, the hilt of his sword betrays him and slithers around his hand and up his arm, connecting with his armor. The magic works its way up through his armor, tightening around his arms and his neck. He backs away from me, trips over a large rock, and falls back with a crash as the metal molds together at his feet, preventing him from trying to attack again.

I cringe at the thump his head makes striking the ground, knocking him out.

The other two men are still unconscious from the tightness around their necks. I go to each one and touch their toes, willing the metal to loosen to allow them airflow. They will have pounding headaches and sore necks when they wake up but otherwise be fine. The metal that bound them shifts back into the armor’s original form. The iron pulls apart at their feet so when they wake they can walk out of this forest. The gauntlets’ fingers are released from the molded fists so they will be able to remove their helmets.

Farren reappears from wherever he was hiding, coming to my feet, gazing up at me.

My heart pounds while I walk towards the cart, where Jedrick moans. I take a deep breath before I toss the canvas blanket away.

CHAPTER 10

The king of Adreania lies on the cart, his breathing irregular, chest slowly rising and falling. He is securely tied to the cart with ropes over his fine clothing. His eyes are bloodshot, his aged face a worrisome shade of white. When he tries to speak, no sound comes out, his mouth opening before gasping for air.

“Jedrick, it’s Lady Arra, your jeweler. Please stay calm. You have been kidnapped, but I’m going to get you to safety.” I retrieve the sword that lies in the grass next to the unconscious rider and slice off some of the ropes, careful of his body beneath them.

He stares, but his clouded gray eyes don’t truly see me.

Once most of the cut ropes have fallen to the ground, he tries to sit up. Careful of how fragile he looks, I help him ease his body into a sitting position, his legs still secured to the cart. It’s against the law to touch Adreanian royalty without express permission but I’m not sure if he is even king anymore. Besides, the forest recognizes no rulers besides Nueena’s mother.

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