mouth wouldn’t let her speak.
And he was gone.
Breena was back in her bedchamber. Rolfe, a member of her parents’ personal security, stood over her. “Quiet, princess. The castle’s under attack. They’ve already taken the king and queen.”
She sat up, the last vestiges of her dream fading completely. As the meaning behind the guard’s words sank in, her fingers began to chill and her heart began to race. “We must help them,” she whispered.
Rolfe shook his head. “It’s too late for them. They’d want me to get you and your brothers and take you through the secret passageway out of the castle.”
“But …” she began to protest. Tears filmed her eyes and her throat began to tighten. The passageway had been built by some long-ago ancestor as a last-resort escape route if the inhabitants of the castle feared there was no other option but flight.
“Come, princess, and hurry. Put on some shoes. We must fetch Micah and Dayn.”
“What about Nicolai?”
The guard shook his head.
Fear slammed into her. The enormity of their danger finally penetrated her dreamhaze. This wasn’t an attack on the castle, like those easily repelled in the past; this was an all-out onslaught. “He’s been taken, too?”
“I cannot find him. Come, we must save who we can.”
Breena began to shudder, but took a deep breath. She had to be strong and face whatever danger lay ahead. Her brothers depended on her.
After sliding her feet into the slippers at the foot of her bed, she followed Rolfe down the hallway that led her to Dayn’s and Micah’s chambers. Below she heard the clash and clang of sword against shield. The war cry. And the sound of death.
She quickened her pace, quietly stealing into Micah’s room first as Rolfe went to Dayn’s. Earlier they’d celebrated Micah’s fifth birthday. It was now up to her to make sure he celebrated another. If she had her mother’s abilities, she’d already be placing awakening thoughts in her brother’s dreams. Instead, she would have to gently shake him on the shoulder.
“Where’s my brother?” she asked the maid after walking into the chamber where her brother slept.
“His nanny took him. To one of the high rooms in the castle.”
Breena sagged in relief.
“But what should we do about the little cousin?”
Her hand flew to cover her gasp. Their cousin, Gavin, who wasn’t much older than four, had come for the party. She doubted any of the guards would think to check on him. She raced down the hallway to where he slept.
“Gavin, darling,” she whispered. “Get dressed. You’ve got to come with me and Rolfe.”
Her little cousin rubbed at his eyes. “Why?” he asked, more asleep than awake.
“We’re playing hide-and-seek,” she told him with a smile.
He sat up in bed, confused by the timing, but still ready for the game. Gavin was young enough for her to carry. She simply lifted him from the covers and draped him over her shoulder. She sang a soft lullaby in his ear so he wouldn’t grow fretful and loud.
Rolfe joined her in the hallway. “Dayn’s not in his room.”
Fear for her dear older brother made her shake all over again. “Perhaps he’s already escaped.”
Doubt flickered in Rolfe’s eyes for a moment, before the guard quickly masked it. Dayn was in charge of protecting the outer walls of the castle. Of course he’d be involved in any kind of defense. But their defenses had already been breached. That would mean her brother—
No, she would not allow her thoughts to go there. Right now she must take care of Gavin. Rolfe was already rushing toward the corridor that would lead to the escape route no one in Elden had needed in several generations. Who would be attacking them? Why? Their kingdom had been at peace with most every other in the realm.
Rolfe pushed aside a heavy tapestry revealing the door leading to their means of escape. The sounds of fighting still echoed from below, but were growing closer. The hidden door groaned when Rolfe pushed at the ancient wood. When it finally gave way, the hinges objected loudly after their lack of use for years.
“Stop!”
Breena turned to see a hideous creature, one created from evil. Its eight legs, gleaming with razors and dripping with the blood of her people, sped toward her. It would get them all if she didn’t do something to distract it.
“You must walk now, Gavin.”
“But I want you to carry me,” he protested.
“Princess,” the monster called to her, baring its fangs. She realized the revolting beast was focused solely on her. Would do anything to get her, including killing her cousin.
“Go!” she screamed, pushing Gavin into Rolfe’s side, and slammed the door shut.
“Breena,” she heard her little cousin cry. But then she heard a comforting click as Rolfe slid the dead bolt from the inside. Relief made her legs shake. Taking a deep breath, she turned. The monster was almost at her side. Like her mother, this creature wielded magic, except it harnessed the dark powers that came only from corrupting life-sustaining blood.
It shoved her against the wall, one of its razor-adorned legs trapping her in place. It tugged at the handle, but the door didn’t budge. “No matter. They can’t hide in there forever.” Then it looked over at her. Its eyes were cold. She’d never seen eyes so full of … nothingness. It chilled her.
A smile, if one could even call it that, pulled at its upper lip. “Come. The master will want to see you.”
It grabbed her arm, and she sucked in a breath as one of the razors pierced her skin. Her captor dragged her to the staircase where the fighting still waged. Only the crash of sword against sword was already fading as it pulled her down to the great hall. The agonized moans of the injured and dying mingled with the terrified weeping of the captured. Then she spotted her parents on the dais where they held court, chained to their thrones. A mocking humiliation.
Anger began to grow in her chest, chasing away the fear. Her father lay slumped where he once ruled proudly. Blood ran down his cheek and pooled at his feet. So much blood. Too much blood. A sob tore from her throat, and she yanked her arm from her captor’s grasp. She couldn’t let him die like that. Not her father, who ruled with justice, who loved his people.
The blow came from behind. It knocked her to the floor, the cold stone of the hearth cutting her forehead. Blackness began to move across her vision, and she blinked to try to clear it and the pain. She met her father’s gaze. He didn’t have much longer to live. Breena forced herself to look at her mother. Her beautiful mother with the striking silver hair, now stained red from the blood she’d shed.
Her parents reached for each other, and the gesture comforted her. They’d die together. Dark brown eyes flashed across her mind. Her dream warrior would fight these creatures who practiced blood magic. He’d die trying to save, to avenge. She wished he were
