CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX: GANDOR’S ARRIVAL
Dropping to my knees beside my brother, my heart raced at the sight of the gash on his forehead. The blood, so much blood, it looked worse than it probably was. My breath caught in my throat as I saw his dragon working to heal the wound. A mixture of relief and anger surged through me. Gandor had disobeyed my orders, and now he was here, hurt.
I stood up, my hands trembling with a burning rage as I grabbed Gandor by the collar and shook him. “What were you thinking? You were supposed to stay home! Do you realize you could have been killed, Gandor!”
He just shrugged with an infuriating nonchalance, his eyes flicking away, refusing to meet my gaze. My patience snapped. “What's so important that you couldn't listen to me for once?!”
Gandor's eyes widened, and he nodded over my shoulder. “Ashina, who is that woman behind you?”
I turned, seeing that it was our mother he had never really met. He was just a baby when we escaped so many years ago. Sadly, I realized, as I had so many times as we were growing up, Gandor had never experienced having a mother around. I was his sister and his mother.
"Brought through the fire and ash, here she is," I called out above the chaos, trying to make my voice heard. "Gandor, this is mother. Mother, this is the son you brought many moons ago. Meet your son Gandor."
My mother walked slowly forward, tears in her eyes. She placed her palms on either side of Gandor's cheeks, cupping them, crying as she did. "Gandor, they named my little boy Gandor. What a strong name, and look at how tall you are."
Gandor wrapped his arms around mother in a bear hug so tight he had lost his breath. “Mom, you know what this means?”
“What, my son?”
“I can come home now!”
“See hah Ashina, I needed to be here to come home!” Gandor's impishness, his mischief, knew no bounds.
Furious, I turned and called out to a couple of guards: "Take him to the bunker and guard him with your life. Don’t trust anything he says. Don’t ever leave him unattended! He will escape!" Gandor tries to play on our mother’s heartstrings, but I was having none of that.
“Mother” Gandor pleads his case to our mother. I am going to hang this kid up by his toenails when we are done.
I turned, seeing that it was our mother he had never really met. He was just a baby when we escaped so many years ago. Sadly, I realized, as I had so many times as we were growing up, Gandor had never experienced having a mother around. I was his sister and his mother.
"Brought through the fire and ash, here she is," I called out above the chaos, trying to make my voice heard. "Gandor, this is mother. Mother, this is the son you brought many moons ago. Meet your son Gandor."
My mother walked slowly forward, tears in her eyes. She placed her palms on either side of Gandor's cheeks, cupping them, crying as she did. "Gandor, they named my little boy Gandor. What a strong name, and look at how tall you are."
Gandor wrapped his arms around mother in a bear hug so tight he had lost his breath. “Mom, you know what this means?”
“What, my son?”
“I can come home now!”
“See hah Ashina, I needed to be here to come home!” Gandor's impishness, his mischief, knew no bounds.
Furious, I turned and called out to a couple of guards: "Take him to the bunker and guard him with your life. Don’t trust anything he says. Don’t ever leave him unattended! He will escape!" Gandor tries to play on our mother’s heartstrings, but I was having none of that.
Margaret's voice reached me through magical means, like a haunting whisper in the wind. "Don’t worry, the castle is clear of all spells. Be careful, princess. Malcolm is hiding in there, and he wants you dead."
"Thank you," I replied, determination burning in my chest as I climbed the steps once more through the imposing doors.
My mother, ever the master of dramatic entrances, swung the doors open with a blast of her magic, her rage palpable in the air. I braced myself for the inevitable clash, knowing Malcolm's fate was sealed. I doubted the vultures would have much left to do after my mother was done with him.
Her voice boomed ferociously, demanding Malcolm's presence. "Are you such a coward, Malcolm, that you will not show yourself? Come on, I know you want me. Why don’t we die together, my love?"
"Where is that adorable witch who delights you so often, Malcolm? Does she have you hidden since you are her lover? Was she expecting to be crowned queen by you? I'm surprised you didn't tell her you had to keep me alive, to keep my powers that you wanted me to share. Have you also told her she would never be a queen? Why would you tell her? She will no longer be able to assist you as she has all these years."
My mother's manipulation worked its magic, and the evil blonde witch suddenly materialized with Malcolm frozen in her grip, fire burning in her soulless eyes. "Malcolm! Is what this harlot states true?"
Malcolm's face paled, and he stammered, "No, my precious, she lies. Amira is crazy, you know that."
The evil witch let out a banshee-like screech, shattering the glass windows above. "Why do I feel you are LYING TO ME?"
My mother's words had hit their mark, causing Malcolm to tremble visibly. She had spent years without her magic, without her ability to transform, and it had given her keen insight into the situation. Including the affair between Malcolm and the evil witch.
"Sweetheart, you were nothing but a tool to Malcolm, using your powers for his own needs, while getting his thrills. He has always loved me, but I rejected his affections, and here we are today. He will never want you like he wants me. He plays you like a fiddle; you jump at his every note he makes."
In a fit of rage, the evil witch hurled a fireball at my mother, prompting me to leap in front of her, taking the brunt of the blast and falling unconscious.
Before darkness claimed me, I heard my mother's urgent command to Andor. "Get Ashina out of here. She is about to go into heat. I protected her from most of the fireballs; she will heal shortly. Just get her out of here."