Page 35 of Arise the Queen
And then Gwendolyn understood.
Ignoring the hammering within her breast, she ascended to the dais, and ventured closer to the sword, tearing her gaze away from Esme, who perhaps recognized the light of recognition in her eyes, and gave her a nod. “If you doubt me, what harm can come of my trying?” Gwendolyn said, and judging by his arrogant expression, Aengus remained unconcerned, but Gwendolyn sensed the tension rising behind him where Esme and Málik both stood watching her every move. When she arrived at the sword in the stone, Gwendolyn inhaled a breath, reaching out to place her palm atop the hilt. No one stopped her. The alloy beneath her palm hummed, but she gave no clue what she felt, and the King laughed. “Please do! I beg you try, Banríon na bhfear.”
Gwendolyn lifted her chin, daring to bargain once more. “If I succeed, perhaps we may yet make a bargain?” she asked. “Together, we might form an alliance… you on the Fae throne, I, your liege in the mortal world…”
She hoped to appeal to his arrogance and greed. There could still be a way to avoid bloodshed. “You will rule both lands, and I shall raise bonfires in your honor…”
“Bold,” he said smugly. “Alas, you will fail, but I admire your mettle. Still, why should I? What need have I for a mortal queen to govern a land I’d sooner burn?”
Gwendolyn’s heart beat mercilessly as she ever so slightly pushed her palm against the pommel merely to test it…
She was Fae and mortal both…
The pommel shifted imperceptibly.
“Wha—” said the King, noticing too late.
Remember, Málik had begged, and so she did. She remembered everything, all of her lessons from Málik. It happened so swiftly. Her cloak slipped and fell away and a spark of flame ignited at her touch, burning brighter, gaining strength as she drew the sword from the stone. She felt strength as light swept up the length of the blade.
Raise the pommel.
Lend your hip to the thrust.
Claímh Solaiswhistled through the air, sweeping unerringly toward its aim… severing the King’s head in one fell swoop.
The last thing Gwendolyn heard was the sound of a collective gasp. And the last thing she saw before being violently snatched into the void was the head of her foe rolling across the dais.
15
Gwendolyn’s eyes fluttered open to discover a beloved face peering down at her, a soft smile playing upon familiar lips…
Bryn.
A little hairier, his dark hair longer and scruffier, but he was a sight to behold, and Gwendolyn couldn’t help herself—tears of relief slid through her lashes, crept down her cheeks, salting her lips.
Words failed her.
“Oh, nay,” said Bryn quickly, his tone full of affection, and Gwendolyn swallowed convulsively. She could not fail to note that it was always Bryn who’d caught her when she fell—Bryn who patted her head and told her all would be well.
The first time her father ever placed her upon a horse, slapping its rear to run free with Gwendolyn in the saddle… she’d tumbled headlong into a ravine. It was Bryn who’d hurled himself after her, whilst her father had stood waiting to greet them with smiles upon their return. No one but Bryn ever saw her tears.
He was the brother she’d never had.
Reaching out, he gently swiped the pad of his thumb beneath her eye, dragging it across her cheek, wiping her tears. “Do not cry,” he said. “All is well, Gwendolyn.” And then he seized her hand, squeezing gently.
Gwendolyn squeezed back. “Where am I?” she dared ask, fearing the worst. She tried to sit, groaning against the stiffness in her limbs, and it was then she had the chance to note her surroundings—the soft muted light, the thinning of the air that gave one a sense of height.The Druid village, but how?
“We found you near the cairn,” he said. “We brought you here to tend to, but I swear, we found nothing amiss. Still, you gave us a scare.”
Nothing broken?Gwendolyn furrowed her brows. That was difficult to believe when she felt as though she’d been shoved into a meal sack and pounded by clubs. “How long…”
“Last night,” said Lir, making his presence known as he, too, approached the bed, clearing his throat. “He speaks true. I inspected you myself. No broken bones, no injuries at all.”
“And Málik?”
Gwendolyn couldn’t help it; it was the first thing that leapt to her mind, but Lir shook his head, his smile fading.
“He… is… gone,” said Bryn, glancing down at their joined hands. “Esme, as well.” The look on his face was sorrowful, and Gwendolyn’s face fell, too.
