“How do you know—?” I ask.
“Because it’s what I would have done,” he replies sharply, his eyes nearly completely black, and I’m reminded that my father is a demon to his core. “The first step is to weaken your opponent’s confidence. Strip away the things they rely on. Then you attack.”
“It’s the attacking part I want to avoid,” I say. “This is not a battleground where we can win. We need to get to the Wilds.”
My heart sinks as a sweet voice croons from behind me. “Why is that, Nova? Is it because you have friends in the Wilds?”
I spin to find Esta standing in the middle of the path behind us. Her gold hair falls unbound around her shoulders, the metallic threads flowing through it glinting in the shadows. She’s wearing simple black leggings and a tight black sleeveless top, both of which cling to her perfect figure.
Although her eyes are as dark blue and mysterious as usual, her skin is no longer a flawless light brown. Instead, mottled patches of leathery, red skin spread down her right arm as well as across her chest and up her neck to her jaw. I remember what Jareth said about Koda’s true demon form—if Koda had been using Jareth’s power to take that form, he would have looked more like Jareth’s demon. Just like Esta does now.
She’s pushed Tyrus to his knees, her fingers curled around his throat and a single black claw—just like Jareth’s claws—protruding from her fingertip and pressed to his jugular.
Sweat pours down the soldier’s forehead, but he doesn’t speak. His eyes are wide and unfocused, as if he’s no longer seeing what’s in front of him.
A wash of dark energy rests around him and across the other seven soldiers, who all lie scattered on the ground, some of them draped along the path and others curled up beside the black stone walls. None of them are moving. The pure nightmare energy in the dark haze flowing around Esta makes my skin crawl. Just the tip of Jareth’s power made the hairs on my arms stand on end back in the healing cavern. Now I’m seeing his full power in action for the first time, and it’s… fucking scary in its efficiency.
“How the hell did she creep up on us?” Koda snarls.
“The nightmare power,” Jareth replies, his furious gaze fixed on Esta. “It allows her to move as silently as if she’s in a dream, coming and going at will without detection.”
My focus flashes to my father. It’s an aspect of my power that he failed to mention to me and, judging by the look of surprise on Roman’s face, it’s a revelation to him, too.
My father seems to sense the weight of our gazes and follows up with: “It’s not an honorable aspect of this power, and it allowed me to kill many of my enemies in the early years of my reign. I didn’t think Esta would discover it so quickly, but it seems she has.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised what I’ve discovered while you were gone,” Esta says, her claw pressing harder against Tyrus’s throat. “For instance, I learned that Nova has a lot of little friends in the Wilds. Lovely horses, precious bats, and… oh, yes… a pesky demon wolf, who is no more.”
At my sharp inhale, Esta grins. “Reaper was a formidable opponent,” she says. “I enjoyed killing her. Just as I enjoyed the death cries of the little pets you kept in the Wilds.”
“No!” My shout is filled with both rage and pain. There’s a rational part of my mind that tells me it can’t be true. The silver slash across my left palm is still there, and it feels…alive. I’m sure it would have faded if Reaper were dead.
But there’s another part of me that fears there could be truth in what Esta’s saying.
Either way, I’m determined to make her pay.
I step forward, my blood pounding, but Roman is faster, slipping in front of Jareth, turning his body into a shield for my father and, at the same time, reaching for me.
His hand closes around my left arm and, to my surprise, Koda’s hand wraps around my right, both of them anchoring me in place and refusing to let me go.
A shot of calm races through me as Koda’s bliss energy wafts around my arm. Instantly, he eases my inner turmoil and soothes my worries, allowing the rational part of my brain to take control again.
“She’s lying, Nova,” Koda murmurs to me. “Her elation is fake. I can sense it from here. It’s yourdreadthat gives her joy.”
“Fuck,” I whisper. I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve when it comes to my family. From the moment I arrived in Pyra-Mortem, it’s been no secret that my greatest fear is losing the ones I love. Now that she controls our father’s power, Esta will be able to see all of my anxieties like weaknesses laid bare to her.
She throws her head back and laughs, her dark-blue eyes alight with amusement. “Come on, Nova. Don’t be a killjoy. What’s the use of knowing someone’s fears if you can’t play with them?”
Anchored between Roman and Koda, I feel supported, not constrained, and I don’t try to extricate myself from them. Yet. “Where is your puppet master?” I ask, looking past her, expecting to see Crone’s pale form in the growing shadow of the approaching storm.
Esta’s laughter fades and the blue of her eyes begins to darken, becoming sharp and black. “I resent the implication that Crone controls me, Nova. PerhapsIcontrolher. Have you considered that?”
I give a small shake of my head.I hadn’t, actually.
“Nobody controls Crone,” Roman says. “If you think you have the upper hand, then she’s yet to reveal her true motivations.”
“If you say so, Lord Rune,” Esta snaps. “But why don’t we get on with this, yes?”
She moves so fast that her hands blur as she shoves Tyrus to the ground and drags her claw across his throat at the same time.
