gripped another axe with my left hand. I could do it—throw the first hatchet before they could react, and the second before the guard could draw his sword.
But these were people who had once been Doonians, possibly guards from my own detail. My chest felt tight, as if I couldn’t get enough air. Steady footfalls drew closer. I sucked in a deep breath. And I knew I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t murder one of our own, even if they’d switched teams mid-game. The patrol passed without even glancing our way. I exhaled long and slow.
My thoughts clear again, I led the rest of the way. We reached the enormous double doors of the royal chapel without meeting anyone else. Half expecting the room to be locked, I breathed a sigh of relief as the handle turned with a soft click.
We stepped inside and moonlight bled through stained glass, washing the stone columns and arching vaults in shades of watered blue, magenta, and gold. Memories assaulted me everywhere I looked. The pew toward the back where I’d been gripped with temporary madness as I’d watched Jamie go through the rituals that would make him a king. The altar, where Aunt Gracie’s cursed journal flamed, and where the surge of the ring’s power had flowed through me for the first time as I destroyed the evil spell.
So much had changed.
With effort, I turned from memories to face the vault door. I reached for the handle, smacked into something hard, and stumbled back. Ewan walked around me, but I yanked him back. “Stop. The door’s guarded by magic.”
I lifted my hand and focused on removing the enchanted barrier. My ring glowed scarlet, and then winked out. I stared down at the dull red stone as a wave of dizziness swept over me. My gaze jerked up to meet Ewan’s. My legs wobbled and I reached out for something to steady myself.
“Yer Majesty?” Ewan grabbed for me, but I toppled, my hip striking the wooden pew as I dropped to my knees.
I focused all my energy on raising my arm, but my limbs were made of lead. My stomach lurched with the sickening realization that the spell guarding the door had latched onto me like a parasite, gnawing away at my strength. My muscles trembled, and I slumped to my bottom.
Ewan knelt beside me. “What is it? Are ye hurt?”
“There’s a spell . . .” I sucked in air. “It’s inside me . . .”
Ewan followed my gaze to the door, his eyes flaring wide as they turned back to me. “What do I do?”
I fell back on my elbows and he cradled my head in his lap. Panting as if I’d sprinted a mile, I stared up at him, panicked. I didn’t know what to tell him. I knew Addie’s magic couldn’t kill me, but could it put me in a coma? Make me a vegetable for the rest of my life? “I don’t . . . I don’t . . . know.” I blinked. What would Jamie do? “Pray . . . just pray.”
I squeezed my eyes closed and focused on my breath.
Deep inhale. Slow exhale.
I reached out with my consciousness to the Protector, but with every breath my throat squeezed tighter and the words wouldn’t come. I heard Ewan pleading above me, “Show us what to do . . . Save her.”
My fingers and toes tingled and then went numb, and that’s when I began to shake, not with fear but with white-hot anger. After every challenge I’d overcome, all the hard-won battles, that witch still had the upper hand. She’d earned my trust as my assistant Emily while killing innocents behind my back. She’d deceived good people—men, women, and children who had become my family—into pledging their lives to her. She’d forced me to send my best friend out of Doon. Then she’d killed countless others with the earthquake, destroyed the bridge, and murdered the only boy I would ever love.
And there was no way on God’s green, blessed earth she was getting away with it. I focused all my strength into sitting up and drew in a deep breath. “Help me stand.” Ewan searched my face, but hooked an arm around my waist and complied. My knees buckled and he tightened his hold.
Spreading my feet, I anchored my legs and lifted my clenched fist. This was not how it ended. I would live to make Addie see that taking Jamie had not weakened me, but turned me into a