There, scrambling toward the edges of Stonegate, was Lyra.
From all sides, Stav Guard hunted her. Queen Ingir screamed on her knees, wailing over something I could not hear. Most sound was muffled anyway. The roar of craft filled my ears. For so long it was untamed, not mine to command. No longer. The power in my blood was mine to summon—to terrify, to kill.
“Roark?” Thane’s voice was distant though he stood next to me. “What’s on your scar? Is it bleeding?”
“Thane.” Emi’s voice trembled. “Step back.”
The division of two pieces had never been mine to control until recent weeks. Until Lyra.
Little by little, the chains keeping the power out of my control had returned. My soul was tethered to hers and I would slaughter anyone who tried to break it.
Lyra stumbled. A Stav Guard grabbed hold of her ankle before she could run again.
Darkness, so cold it burned, ripped through every pore. Fear bled from her soul. I was consumed by it and it snapped the final strand tethering my will to keep control.
I freed the lash of darkness with a rough, chilling cry of her name.
49
Lyra
I ran straight ahead. I wouldknow the truth, but to anyone else, it appeared as though I’d wrongly attacked a Stav captain and slaughtered the Jorvan king.
The wall was my last resort. It took me too far from Roark, from Kael. It took me to open trade routes and ravagers in the wood.
I kept running.
Horns sounded again. The vibration of them rattled my marrow. I tightened the hold on my skirt and quickened my pace, only to snag my toe in a divot of earth.
My cheek struck the soil, grass coated my tongue. I scrambled to my knees, desperate to get back on my feet.
A strong, gloved hand curled around my ankle. “Melder Bien, stop. What has come over you?”
I screamed when the Stav Guard yanked me back. I kicked and thrashed. One arm was pinned behind me as the guard climbed over my back. Too strong, too tall. My sob cracked against the soil.
He reached for my hair. My elbow knocked into his jaw.
“Damn you.” The Stav gave up any attempts to be gentle.
I rolled onto my hip, facing the courtyard, and my heart skipped. Sword in hand, his dark hair like the gloss of a crow, Roark stood, flanked by Thane and Emi.
“Roark!” I cried his name, the sound of it cracked. “It’s Fadey!”
I wasn’t certain if he could even hear. But there was strange relief knowing he was there. Hands still pawed at me, I was still in danger, but the sight of him was a lull in a storm. The Sentry saw me, and I’d been witness to what his rage could do.
Roark bent forward, like he’d been struck. His shoulders heaved for a few heartbeats. When I thought he might fall, Roark straightened.
“Lyra!” My name cut from his mouth, but it was stretched and prolonged, like an echo.
The jagged sound pulled away from Roark at the same time something dark, like black blood, spilled from the side of his neck, his shoulders, his ribs. A gruesome, coiled shadow billowed until it took shape with wide, broadened shoulders, long, strong legs wrapped in misty shadows. A phantom with a blade that gleamed like real steel had been the one to shout my name.
Wind and breath slowed to nothing. The guard gripping my body went still.
By the gods. Roark, my safety, my calm…he was Skul Drek.
Or he was part of the assassin in the shadows.
I didn’t understand it and foolishly gaped, as though frozen, as Roark straightened again. He rolled his sword in one hand, then raced down the slope, darkness and misty shadows at his side.
