“Something’s not right,” said the female amongst them. “I can’t feel his power. We should’ve known he was coming a mile off.”

“It’s a trick,” Guilluame replied. “He’s a human disguised as Tristan.”

“That’s easy enough for you to check,” I snapped. There was only so much time, and I couldn’t afford a delay. “Either let me pass or send someone to fetch the King.”

The heat remained, their faces unconvinced.

“I’ve been deprived of my magic,” I said, sweat trickling down my back. “One of you should be more than sufficient to keep me in line, if that is your concern.”

“Go to the palace,” the female ordered the youngest of them. To the others, she said, “Let him in. We’ll keep him here until we have our orders.”

The glowing gate swung outward, and I gave it wide berth as I passed, not wishing to be burned. My skin stung from the radiant heat as it was, healing mortal slow without my magic. So strange to fear something so insignificant.

When I was through, the female pulled off her gauntlet and slapped a hand against my cheek, feeling for the presence of a disguise. “Nothing,” she said, her voice curious. “It’s him.”

“Deprived of your magic, you say.” Guillaume pulled off his helmet. “How’d that come to pass?”

“That’s a conversation I’ll have with my father and none other.”

“Of course.” He grinned, revealing a piece of something green stuck between his two front teeth. “I wonder how well His Grace will reward me for putting you down.” Then he attacked, not me, but his fellows, sending the female flying through the air and then slicing the remaining guard in two.

I turned to run, but his magic caught my ankle, then slammed me against the cobbles. “Some things are better done by hand,” he said, and his boot caught me in the ribs with an audible crack. The female guard raced back and tried to interfere, but he walled her off, his magic stronger, if only barely.

Blow after blow struck me in the sides, in the arms, in my face, and there was nothing I could do to get away. Bones cracked and blood splattered the ground, but through it all I saw the face of my attacker. How he sensed my weakness and reveled in it. Then the air stirred, filling with a sound much like a whip being cracked, and through the swelling of my eyes, I watched Guillaume’s head drop to the ground next to me.

“Get up.”

I struggled to rise, and my father’s hand latched under my arm, hauling me to my feet.

My lone defender stood wild-eyed. “I tried to stop him, Your Majesty,” she pleaded.

“Go find others to replace them,” he snarled at her, and she took off running.

It took every ounce of willpower I had not to pass out from the pain as he dragged me through the streets to the palace. They were empty as they only were during curfew, but the faces of those peering out from behind windows filled with dismay when they recognized me.