The crimson barrier swirled around me—some sort of defensive magic that moved when I did, keeping pace like a cage made of light. Was it to keep others out, or me in?
The executioner strode into the watery sunlight, drawing his broadsword.
Gods, what now?
He’d slaughtered the entire court. I replayed thecarnage over and over. Blood. Screams. The wet thud of bodies collapsing.
My teeth chattered as the cold bit into my ruined hand. Scorched skin. Blackened veins spiderwebbed up my arm. My stomach lurched, bile burning my throat. My knuckles had turned an ugly shade of purple, and where my fingers curled toward my palm, blisters swelled. Some had already ruptured.
A whimper escaped my lips.
The executioner stopped dead.
In two strides, he was at my side. His gaze flicked to my trembling hand. He grabbed my wrist, turning it gently.
I hissed, jerking back. “Don’t.”
“I won’t allow you to lose a hand.”
Why not? He’d just killed dozens of people.
I shook my head violently, pulling against his grip. “I don’t want your magic anywhere near me.”
“Be still.”
Darkness threaded through his words.
I wanted to rip away, but I froze as his hand hovered over mine. Red light spread from his wrist, and I braced for him to peel me apart.
The light traveled like a slow-burning ember until it pooled in his fingertips. Heat radiated from him, not searing butwrong. It crawled inside me, burrowing too deep.
I shuddered. “What are you?—?”
It was like sunlight melting through frost, surging through every shattered nerve.
“Almost done,” he muttered.
Then the pain faded.
I inhaled sharply as the blackened veins receded. The injured flesh knitted together, and my fingers uncurled.A faint pink line traced up my wrist, but the damage was gone.
I flexed my hand. The skin was raw and tender but healed.
“How did you do this?” My voice cracked.
He clutched my elbow. “Healing rune. We need to move.”
“No, please…just let me go!”
He yanked me forward.
I thrashed, but it was no use. His strength swallowed mine effortlessly as he steered me through the palace gardens. A distant bell tolled, and he quickened his pace.
We reached the garden’s edge. Ahead loomed a maze-like structure, its footpath carved with runes. I squinted at them, my breath misting.
“What is that?”
He glanced at me. “A passageway meant for the royal family and their most trusted advisors in the event of an attack.”
