“Is that the magick you’ve stolen?”
His hand tightens around his shirt where the stone lays beneath.
“The magick you’ve hurt people for?” I take a step toward him, and he takes one step away. “Hunted for?” Another step forward. “Killed for.” My anger seeps through my grittedteeth, the sounds of shouting and fighting almost drowned by the pulsing of blood in my ears. We continue this back and forth dance until he’s backed against a tree. His hand remains clutched on the stone, but his face drops.
“All of that is true,” he says. The stone begins to glow, a beautiful purple light, transfixing me in place and then, Roman pushes me out of the way, knocking me backward.
“Roman!” A flock of crows shoots from a nearby tree just as branch snaps to my right as I stand.
“You should run,” Roman says, not several feet away from me. “Get your girl and go. It won’t be long before he’s here. I just wanted to warn you.”
I take a step toward him, but when I do, he disappears again behind the trees.
“Roman!” I slide a new arrow between my fingers, holding it taught against my bowstring. A shiver runs over me as the air turns frigid. Thick, white blankets of fog roll in and despite my initial intuition to trust Roman, the feeling of being cornered like prey has my other instincts kicking in.
The one to survive.
I hold my breath and close my eyes. Screaming and shouting still sound from beyond the hill, but I tune it out and focus on what’s directly before me. The branches sway as the wind changes course, but through the rustling of leaves, I hear him.
Another branch snaps. I smile as I spin and launch an arrow through the fog-ridden trees. A scream sounds and the fog begins to dissipate, turning again to wind and rain.
Not very light on your feet, little brother.
Roman stumbles into view, clutching his arm. It’s brief, but our eyes meet before I hear a distant cry. It could be my name that’s being screamed, I can’t be certain, but the sound slices right through me.
Help me!
Elora’s voice from my dreams echoes in my mind but when Roman groans, I notice then the arrow has only brushed his arm. He cradles the wound, blood seeping through his fingers.
“Roman, we must stop this,” I beg. “I’ve already been deemed the rightful heir, the Guilds will affirm me and the council will have no choice but to follow suit. Galen will be stopped one way or another, butyoucan end this now.”
He tips his head back, dark curls falling from his face as he screams low and feral. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “I never wanted this. And if you think I have the power to—” Tears line his green eyes silver, but he swallows hard. “I never wanted any of it,” he says again, this time no louder than a whisper. “I only wanted him.” His head hangs heavily, one hand clutches his shoulder where the arrow sliced him open.
“I see that now.” I drop to my knees, the wet moss soaking through my breeches.
The shouting from below us has died down considerably and my feet twitch, ready to run toward Elora.
Roman moans, drawing my attention. He reaches for the stone around his neck but hesitates.
“I’m sorry for that,” I admit, pointing to his arm. “Despite everything, I think you and I could have?—”
“Please,” he says, his green eyes snapping to mine. “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.” They glisten with tears again and my heart aches. Still playing the role of Corrupt King even when there is no audience. I suppose it’s a difficult habit to break. The mask you wear to prove yourself to others doesn’t easily slip off.
“Don’t tell me what we could have been,” he says. “It’s no use because we weren’t. I was born for the sole purpose of being king and you got to live your life just as you wanted. Travel as youwanted.Loveas you wanted.” There is venom laced in that one word, but more so, there is envy.
“And now,” he continues, “you will take the one thing I have ever had. The one thing I risked everything for. My crown. Without it, I’m nothing.” He runs his fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling. The battle in his heart is worn across his face making him look much older than he is. “Perhaps it’s for the best, after what I’ve done.”
“You are not nothing, Roman,” I say. “You are good, I see it in you. You wouldn’t be right here with me if you weren’t.”
His hand slides from his hair, back to his arm where the bleeding has slowed. He watches me but says nothing.
“In every small moment we’ve shared, in every mercy you’ve shown Elora. Crown or not, you arenotnothing. We all drift away from ourselves sometimes.” I let out a long breath. “Let me help you find your way again.”
My legs shake as I stand, nerves getting the better of me. “Let me help you. Let me be your brother for a few minutes. At the very least, let me help where I’ve hurt.” I nod to his arm, then place a hand over my heart, where the silver arrow is stitched. An oath of sorts, a promise. If I can somehow get him to Tallulah, she could help with his arm.
His face pales, his head rolling to the side.
“I owe you that much,” I say.
