Manon's Child

Part 63

My heart drops like a stone, and the witch smirks gleefully, knowing she's hit a nerve. "You'll get no more out of me, Fake Queen," the witch hisses, spitting blood. 

I believe her. My heart is beating double time, sending panicking messages though my body. I drop the witch, pulling my nails from her flesh. They're stained blue, and I can't help but lick the blood off them. It's been so long.

I turn back to Bronwen and Glennis, who have been watching silently this whole time. Bronwen's face is hard, and there's a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. 

"Is she telling the truth?" I ask, hating the desperation evident in my voice. The Crochan behind me laughs, blood dribbling from her lips.

Glennis looks concerned. "I don't think -"

"She's telling the truth," Bronwen says grimly. "This letter we intercepted  - it as good as says it. We interpreted it wrong."

"What?" My blood chills. "Give me that." I snatch the letter out of her hand, knowing immediately it's not one I've seen before. They're supposed to give all intercepted notes straight to me. "Why am I only just seeing this now?"

"I wanted to give it to yesterday, but... you were busy," Bronwen says. "I apologize." 

I wave my hand, reading the decoded message she's scrawled on top of the actual words. 

I turn back to the witch, anger filling me. I slam her back against the tree, and blood gushes from the wound in her shoulder where my hand was. "What do you even hope to achieve from this?" I demand.

She just grins. I want to scream in frustration. Instead, I rip out her throat.

Her body thuds to the floor. "Someone burn that," I say to no one in particular, storming out of the clearing. 

They're going to kill him. They're going to kill Dorian, and I am the only one that knows. I have to stop them, evidently. I need to send a warning to Adarlan, and I need to  - I need to -

I stop myself inside the privacy of my tent, taking a minute to let myself calm down slightly. The killer inside of me, the one I've tried pushing down these past few months, pushes her way forward, and a deadly calm falls over me. I grab a scrap of paper, writing a quick note. Aelin may be much closer to Adarlan than I am - she might even be there, for all I know. I scrawl another note addressed to Dorian himself. 

Outside the tent, Petrah's coven stand guard. I hand the two closest to me the messages. "Fly as fast as you can," I say.

"My Queen - " 

"Go! This is a matter of urgency."

They nod and are gone. I head back through the camp. I'm saddling Abraxos when -

"Where do you think you're going?" It's Petrah.

"To stop them," I reply shortly. 

"Manon, you are pregnant! It isn't safe! What happens if you go into early labour in the air, miles away from everyone?" She's pleading with me but I don't care. Nothing can penetrate this killing calm.

"You cannot stop me," I say.

"Then at least let someone accompany you."

I nod, knowing that is probably wise. "Fine, but I'm leaving now."

"I'll come then," she volunteers. 

"Hurry up," I say, climbing onto Abraxos. He shifts, sensing the desperation and fear beneath my calm. "I'm going to save the King of Adarlan."

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Aelin's POV

I'm near the border between Adarlan and Terrasen, heading back to Orynth after visiting some of the villages that were particularly hard hit during the war, when everything goes wrong again. It's midday, our guards surrounding us, when they all simultaneously pull their bows taught. There's something in the sky, moving rapidly towards us. A witch. 

I frown. The creature lacks the usual grace associated with witches, and is falling almost uncontrollably through the air. Maybe she's drunk. I cringe at the memories that brings up.

"She's injured," Rowan murmurs beside me.

I urge my horse into a gallop as the witch hits the ground, hard. What is an injured witch doing so far away from the Witch Kingdom?

She stumbles to her feet, heading towards us, dripping blue blood. "Queen of Terrasen!" she calls, tripping forward. There's something clutched in her hand.

"State your business," my guards cry, but I push through their protective circle, Rowan at my back.

"Queen of Terrasen," the witch repeats. She sounds relieved. "There is a great danger. You must-" she breaks off, coughing, blue blood seeping from her wounds.

"What is going on?" I demand. "What danger?"

She presses the open letter into my hand, and I recognise Manon's scrawling handwriting. "I had to - had to open it," she says, her speech interrupted. "I had to  - had to know that what she - what Zal died for was - worth it." She pitches forward into me, her feet unable to hold her. For a moment I think she's going to stab me with some secret weapon, but she's just lost all her energy. I grab her to keep her upright, and her pale skin is burning against my hands. "You don't - don't understand, they're heading for - for Adarlan. We were - there were so many of them - we were ambushed. There are more - more of them - so many more of them than we thought - there are -"

She gasps for breath, seriously injured. If she weren't a witch she would be dead. What threat, what danger, is strong enough to weaken a witch this much?

"What are they doing to Adarlan?" Rowan asks, commanding and gentle.

"Killing him." Blood bubble up from her lips. "You have to - Zal died - they have no warning. He's going to  - going to die."

The blood rushes from my face as I finally realise what she means, and turn to Rowan, who's already shifted. I meet his eyes before he's gone, soaring towards Adarlan. 

"Guards," I demand. "Help this witch. We're heading to Adarlan."

*******

Manon's POV

We fly hard to Adarlan, Petrah and her wyvern beside me. I don't want to stop, but she makes me, claiming both I and the wyverns need to rest. Bullshit. 

I keep the pause to a minimum, urging us on again after barely an hour. On the second stop, Petrah forces me to wait longer, threatening to tie me to a rock, but I can't make my mind still. How can we be stopping when we may already be too late?

Dorian may die. The barely recovered Adarlan will be thrown back into chaos, especially with no heirs. The witches, I , will be seen responsible for the death of the King. This time, there really would be a war. And I know for certain we would lose. 

When we finally reach Adarlan and fly over the palace ground, I can already tell we're too late. The assassins have slaughtered every guard they've come across outside, and left their bleeding bodies over the grounds of the palace. As we drift close, I see the humans have managed to overpower them, but the castle has been left unguarded and defenceless. 

We land and I'm already running, moving as fast as I can despite my pregnancy. I push past the suspicious guards and into the castle. My heart aches, and I finally reach the throne room -

I see the witch in the rafters, an arrow in her hand. I see Dorian sitting in his throne, ever the handsome ruler, looking so lovesick and completely exposed to the threat above him. 

"Look out!" I scream, and he looks up, his eyes widening as they see me, his lips mouthing my name, but I can do nothing, nothing -

As if in slow motion, I watch as an arrow pierces straight through Dorian's heart.

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HI peoples

please don't kill me or abandon this fic but also have fun :D