Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 187

Chapter 187: The antechamber
Trace glanced at the hallway as Oakdown stepped into the antechamber that split two ways. One, into the room that was now a dead end, thanks to Martin’s changes. The other path led far down, to the tree.

Which was hopefully a place Oakdown would not reach.

“Sir!” One of the soldiers saluted as he snapped to attention. “Our discovery is in there. We evacuated the room to serve your instructions that no one is to touch the stones.”

“Did anyone break any of them?” Oakdown demanded quietly, but Trace’s eyes slid to his wife, and widened with shock.

She was limping, and her breathing was labored. Blood smeared across half her face, and a black eye was blooming. Her eyes were down, and leaking angry tears.

Rage boiled from a well deep within Trace, and he nearly leapt from his place to stab Oakdown on the spot.

But all it would take was one command of ‘Stop!’ to spoil that plan. So with great restraint, he stayed still, hating himself for letting Anaisa go up.

She did not look up, and that was well, for Oakdown glanced back at her with a cruel expression.

“Shall we go in?” He swept an arm back as if inviting her to be escorted to a luncheon.

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” She sniped at him with a recalcitrant glare.

“Ah, so it’s a trap,” He mused. “Interesting.”

Anaisa rolled her eyes, then winced. Trace barely kept from bounding forward to check on her. She was a far better actress than he was an actor. Oakdown studied her reaction carefully.

Trace held his breath, and finally Oakdown looked away from the woman to smile at the king.

“Would Your Majesty care to examine the jewels with me?” The Count asked. The look in his eyes was far more than an invitation. He was already closer to the tree, and Trace wondered how much stronger his powers were now.

This whole situation was risky. Very risky.

“I am curious,” The king stepped forward towards the room. “These jewels, they truly give magic to those who break them?”

“We should bring them back to the palace, Your Majesty, instead of taking any actions here,” Oakdown advised, stepping with him.

Trace’s breathing quickened. They needed for Oakdown to be in the room alone to trigger the trap and collapse the entrance. It was rigged to do so, but just before entering, The Count paused.

“How many have been in this room?” He turned to the highest ranking officer.

“Several of us, Sir,” He answered.

“What hazards are there?”

“None that we could see, Sir.” The soldier looked a little confused.

“Hand me your spear,” Oakdown’s eyes narrowed, but the subordinate did so. The Count flipped it over and used the butt of it to strike several places over the entrance to the room.

The roof held, and Trace released a quiet sigh. Martin had rigged it carefully, to collapse the wall from the uphill side, and not the roof.

He’d warned Trace of the Count’s cleverness… but the problem still remained that the king was about to go into the room with him. That couldn’t be allowed to happen.

Trace moved his boot and nudged a large beetle towards the wall. It skittered away and turned in a strange, unnatural spin. His father, controlling the insect, was indicating he’d received the message.

The man would tell Emily to implement the next phase of their plan, which was all but guaranteed to get the king out.

Oakdown was still looking warily at the entrance to the other room, and was just about to step into it. King Harold was flanked by two guards who, observing the Count’s hesitation, became extra protective of the monarch.

“All right, then, I believe this is safe enough,” Oakdown cast a smug look at Anaisa, who had limped forward a step. “She was trying to scare us, I think.” He frowned for a moment. “A delay tactic?”

“I don’t know what you speak of, Count,” King Harold said tiredly. “Do you want to go in or not?”

The proud monarch’s resigned tone sent a pang through Trace’s chest. To see such a man humbled was no easy thing to watch.

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty, I only sought to assure your safety before going in,” Oakdown bowed deeply, but would not walk more than half a step ahead of King Harold. There was not nearly enough separation between them to trigger the trap safely.

The king must not be harmed.

“Wait… do you hear that?” The king paused, turning his head. Oakdown tensed and took the king’s arm, ready to use the monarch as a human shield if he needed to. The Count looked at Anaisa, whose eyes had widened.

“What have you done??” Oakdown demanded of her.

“It’s what you’ve done,” She whispered, her lower lip quivering. “I… I didn’t think it would work.”

“What? What would work?” The Count let go of the king and lunged at her, grabbing her arms and shaking her violently.

“The farmers, didn’t they ask for someone to make it rain?” She asked, a slow smile forming on her face. “We told them to ask for such storms as you have never seen before. All the rain that could be given.”

“Storms?” The Count was momentarily confused. “What farmers?”

“The kingdom’s food supply has been in danger since the farmers went to war,” King Harold answered idly. “In retrospect, it was unwise to allow you to convince me to recruit them. When I got word they needed aid to make sure their crops came in, I granted the request. It did not concern you.”

“You… ” Oakdown’s hands tightened around Anaisa’s arms as Trace watched in horror.

The sound, so quiet at first, was growing steadily louder.

“You fool,” The word was spat at Anaisa, but Trace knew the Count was really addressing the king. “This mistake will result in your death.”

“At least the tree will be swept away, and all its jewels,” Trace’s wife responded, “And you. I can die happy as long as I take you out of the world with me.”

A cry came from the mouth of the cave. “THE RIVER! THE RIVER HAS CHANGED ITS COURSE! EVACUATE THE CAVE!!”