Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 190

Chapter 190: Bottomless hike
“No,” Anaisa glared at Barnabas. “I’m not going with you.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t ask. And thanks to this very conveniently strong servant you’ve provided to me, I don’t even have to order all of you to go. You can walk willingly, or I can order him to make you. Your choice.” The count grinned at the battered woman.

“I don’t want to–” The soldier said, but Barnabas interrupted.

“Once again, you weren’t asked for your opinion. Now everyone, let’s proceed onward. I don’t imagine there’s any way you would have baited me with real magic stones, so I suppose those must be decoys… how is my guessing?”

No one responded and the count smiled.

“You had me fooled for a moment with the performance of the man above… and this soldier, who inexplicably has magic as well. Did you actually develop the ability to remove the magic stones without breaking them, or did they run all the way down into the cavern and back? How exhausting!”

Anaisa glanced at Trace, who was wincing and holding his side as he came to his feet. Her husband was eyeing Barnabas while his eyes flickered to the soldier. The strong man’s jaw tightened and shook his head.

It seemed he couldn’t resist the command long enough for Trace to try taking down the Count again.

Delay, delay, delay. Wait for Emily to get to the others to feel safe enough to scream into Barnabas’s mind. Would she hesitate? Would she panic at the thought of killing a man and be unable to follow through?

She had to make it as instantaneous as possible so that Barnabas couldn’t command anyone to run her down and stop her. That meant being as close to the tree as she could make it.

“You’re the one who’s exhausting,” She snapped at the Count. “All your plots, all your schemes, your murders, all for what? More power? Don’t you have enough already?”

“Foolish child,” Barnabas sneered. “Power is what gives a man value in this world. The king, for instance, how many would lay down their lives for his? All the soldiers, most of the kingdom? And you, poor pitiful wench. No one would offer their lives for yours. Maybe your pathetic sister, if she had the chance. But on the surface, on the brink of death, in the hands of your greatest enemy, not even your assigned husband cared enough to be there to protect you from my hand.”

Trace’s face contorted, but Anaisa snapped at the Count.

“You want lives for your own? That’s why you want to take over the kingdom?” She rolled her eyes. “You called my sister pathetic, but I think we all know who the actual pitiable person here is. Did your mother never love you? Did your father never recognize any worth in you?”

“You–” Barnabas raised the back of his hand and moved forward to strike her again, and she smiled. She was hitting a nerve. The man’s eyes narrowed and he was able to contain himself, lowering his hand and straightening his clothing. “You will never understand what power means. Your mind is too small to conceive of what can be done when I have an army to guard this cave, to dispense magic to whom I will, to sell it like a commodity, to build a magical force that would let me conquer the world. I would be the greatest, most powerful leader in history.”

“To what end?” Anaisa knew the question would sound ridiculous, but she wanted to give Emily the biggest head start she could. “You’ll be powerful, and alone. No one will love you. No one will genuinely care about you. Even Denholm, your own son, only tolerates you because of the wealth you provide to him. That leech doesn’t care one iota about his own father, so how can anyone else ever care about you?”

“Silence.” Barnabas glared at her.

“Why? Because you know it’s true? Those soldiers lay down their life for the king because they love him, love the nation that he has built. Apart from the stupid war that you orchestrated, he has kept peace. There are many improvements that can be made, of course, but he has tried to make a kingdom that is stable enough for its people to live and farm and work. That fosters love.

“You? You would have fear as your only weapon. People would not love you for giving them powers, they would resent you for keeping them to yourself. For hoarding them and holding them hostage as a tool to political power. Any kingdom you ruled would crumble, and you would die alone, miserable, because no one ever liked you even the slightest bit, for yourself.” Anaisa let her temper flare in full force, seeing in Barnabas’s face that she was provoking him.

“SILENCE!” He boomed at her, his voice falling to a low pitch that echoed in the cavern.

Anaisa’s throat went dry, and she dropped to her knees under the pressure of the command. She winced, and Trace rushed to put an arm around her.

“Are you all right?” He whispered. She opened her mouth, but no sound came. She nodded, slowly, but brought a hand to her throat and glared at Barnabas, who was regathering his composure. At least she’d used up one of his commands. He couldn’t take it back, either, to use on someone else.

She smirked for a second, delighted that she was able to make him angry enough to waste his power on making her stop talking. Words were better than swords right now, since she couldn’t take any of his power with a blade.

Then the gravity of the command hit her with its full implications. Barnabas couldn’t take it back, or change a command. That meant that Anaisa may have already spoken the last words she ever would, in her life.

If Barnabas succeeded in throwing them into the pit, she wouldn’t even be able to tell Trace goodbye.

Looking into her husband’s face, she mouthed the words she would have wanted to be her last.

I love you.

His eyes held pain as he understood why she was telling him this right now. He kissed her temple and whispered next to her ear.

“I love you, too. To my very last breath, and beyond.”

“Enough. Let’s go,” Barnabas snapped.