Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 197

Chapter 197: Nothing’s wrong
“Wrong?” Sanders blinked slowly as his eyes refocused in the present. “I’m not sure what you think would be wrong, at least any moreso than things have been desperately wrong for as long as you have ruled.”

The blatant disrespect clearly shocked the king, who took a moment to formulate a reply.

“No need to explain yourself, Sanders. I’m given to understand you are a hero today. Perhaps you’re tired? Let us all head back to the palace for rest and recuperation.” King Harold’s words were gracious, if laced with caution.

Anaisa swallowed, wishing she could tell the king exactly what was going on in words that wouldn’t immediately rouse the ire of the seer who was currently the most powerful person in the room.

“Stand back,” Trace whispered to her gently. “I don’t want you hurt if things go wrong.”

She pursed her lips and begged with her eyes to stay closer, but he was right. She’d only be in the way if it turned into a fight between her husband and Sanders. She was a liability.

When Ewan made a sound, Anaisa tried to casually make her way over to Deborah to gaze at the baby and coo over him as the rest of the king’s soldiers filed into the cavern.

It felt as if she were sitting inside of a powder keg with a sparking fuse at its center.

The other women joined her, with Trace’s mother squeezing her arm, and Emily looking utterly heartbroken. In a loose circle, the women fussed over the baby while Trace tried to mediate between the king and the seer.

Angry words began to pop back and forth between them. The king had a temper, but Sanders was determined.

“What can we do?” Anaisa whispered frantically. Sanders was preoccupied with seeing all things magical, so the answer must somehow lie in the mundane, or in teamwork. He was one man, and there were many people here.

“I don’t know. He can use all of our powers, whether we want him to or not,” Deborah fretted. “Not that mine would do any good just now.”

“It’s so much information, can he see everything important at the same time?” Anaisa whispered. “If everyone used their powers at once, would he be too distracted to know which one was going to do him harm?”

“What sound would I amplify or quiet to make any difference?” Trace’s mother shook her head.

“Me.” Emily said quietly. “It must be me.”

“What?” Anaisa looked at her with concern.

“Sanders said it himself. I could kill someone. But I’m not quite fast enough. I will need it amplified,” She glanced at Trace’s mother. “You and I together… we could kill him before he reacts. Before he retaliates.”

“He’ll be expecting that,” Anaisa shook her head. She also didn’t want Emily to be involved in killing her own brother, who had worked so long to save her. It felt wrong in her soul. “Deborah… can you conjure stones of any size?”

“Not any size, but fairly so. Why?” The woman bounced Ewan lightly in her arms.

“Could you make one appear… inside his brain? One large enough to kill him instantly?” Anaisa cringed at the utterly morbid and gruesome thought.

“I’m not sure–” Deborah paused a moment. “I could try, but I’ve never made anything appear in a moving target before. Unless he holds still, I’m not confident I could do it.”

“All together,” Emily whispered. “The sound, magnified, combined with jewels that would either damage him or which might resonate with the frequency of the sound… but it would have to be in unison, ideally while he’s completely distracted.”

Anaisa gulped, and reached out her arms for little Ewan. Deborah surrendered him readily.

“Doctor, could you come check on him?” Trace’s wife called, sweetly. The elderly man rushed over in concern, but Anaisa lowered her words to a whisper.

The king’s voice was rising to a pitch of extreme anger, and the soldiers were raising their weapons in nervous anticipation of a fight.

It would have to be soon.

“What’s wrong with him?” The doctor’s hands were shaking slightly, as if suddenly uncertain of his powers.

“On my signal, I need you to heal the three women of any injuries that might be inflicted on them,” Anaisa urged, lifting one hand to gesture to the soldier whose hands had changed sizes up above. The more magic users that activated their powers at the same time, the more caught off guard Sanders would be… she hoped.

And the less likely he would be able to react effectively in time.

Trace had stepped in between the king and Sanders as the former became more angry and the latter more volatile. Anaisa handed the baby to Calvin, who seemed the person least likely to get caught in the crossfire of magic powers. The man stepped back from the circle nervously.

“You need not approve of my plan. It will happen regardless,” Sanders shook his head at the king with disdain. “Do not accuse me of robbing the kingdom of assets. Your taxes have robbed it for years! Your use of magic holders is your own gain, not the good of all! You have no right to condemn me for trying something far better than you could ever attempt!”

“My subjects serve me willingly,” King Harold shot back. “No one is forced to live in my kingdom. There are others, and people may freely choose to go to any kingdom that will have them. I imprison only criminals, not innocent people!”

“HA!” Sanders shot back, “and yet your most trusted advisors were able to imprison your loyal subjects without you having the slightest idea! Is that the mark of a well run kingdom? Be gone, before I lose my temper and force you out,” Sanders glared and lifted a hand.

Anaisa saw Trace flinch as his powers were used without his consent. A translucent wall formed around the king and his mundane soldiers, and began constricting, pushing them towards the door.

Trace’s wife found herself trapped with them.

The nearly invisible barrier moved along the ground, forcing those within it to step lightly or be crushed as it herded them towards the exit.

“Remember,” Sanders said with a smile. “When I have all the magic users here, your son will be returned to you.”