“And what about them?” I point to the field. To that shield of shadow, growing smaller and smaller with every strike. “Do you have no thought in your head for them at all?”
“Only as I would for muck against my boot.Enough.” Luminth surges in my father’s hands. “The war ends today, Lyra. The prophecy will be fulfilled by me, as I expected.”
His eyes coldly assess me. “We’ve lost many resources.” He turns his back on me, facing the field. “You will return with me, and we’ll see what we can salvage from your rebellion. Perhaps you might still be useful in some way.”
Salvage.
As if I’m a broken weapon he can reforge.
My hands curl into fists. Luminth heats in my palms, eager and furious. “No.”
He ignores me. “Don’t be a child.”
“No,” I repeat, louder this time.
He twists, irritation bleeding from him as he searches my face. And then a laugh breaks from him. Cruel, and cold, and sharp. “You want to go back? They’re going to be dead by the end of the day, girl.”
I think of them. Of Kaelen’s heartbeat against my ear, and Eres’s quiet vows, waist deep in the Gloam with his arms around me and his Binding marks against my skin. Of Darian’s eyes, filled with understanding after facing my nightmares alongside me. And of the darkwielders who fight beside them to give a single chance of survival to a group of children.
My father’s hand twitches. “That’s enough.”
“I have one question.” It burns in my throat as he sighs. “My mother. Tell me who she was.”
His eyebrows raise, and he sighs, as if my questions are merely an irritation. “A lowborn maid, nothing more. She was executed on the Dunes when you were a newborn. That you turned out to have any Highborn in you at all was a miracle from Aedryn, but my blood holds true.”
My knees threaten to collapse. “Executed.”
“She tried to run with you to the Veilspire.” His eyes gleam, as if he’s enjoying every strike his words land. “She had some ridiculous notion about your future. But I found her, and I brought her back.”
He killed her. She didn’t want this life for me, and he killed her for it.
The rage that floods me is blinding.
Before I can speak, movement catches my eye at the edge of the commander’s protective ring.
A figure in gold.
Lighter build than most soldiers. Helm tucked under one arm. Hair cropped, and flame-filled eyes, so similar to mine. And to his.
“Reena,” I breathe.
My chest tightens so violently I can barely breathe. Still alive. Still his heir.
And the one the Lightbringers will follow when he’s gone.
Her eyes meet mine. For a moment, I think they soften. And then her expression closes, a door slamming in my face. She doesn’t move toward me. She doesn’t lift a hand. She doesn’t speak at all. As if my presence is nothing to her.
My father notices my glance, and something like satisfaction flickers in his eyes. “You see?” His arm sweeps out. “Thisis what loyalty looks like. Reena understands duty.”
Reena’s jaw tightens, just slightly. But she remains still.
My father raises his hands, his voice raising to address those who now surround us. “Do not interfere.”
Luminth blooms from his palms, brilliant and dense, shaping into a long, narrow blade that looks close enough to metal to be mistaken for pure gold. “I grow tired of this. Your stupidity outweighs your usefulness.”
He taught me how to do that. He taught me everything I’m about to use against him. My own luminth flares in answer,pooling into my hands. I shape it instinctively into my daggers. Faster, more maneuverable. And my father’s eyes narrow as he takes in my stance.
“Good,” he says. “You remember—”
