Severin didn’t so much as flinch. “Violence is always easier than understanding, isn’t it?”
His mocking tone only made me want to drive my blade moreviolentlyinto him.
A terrible, pained cry distracted me before I could.
Thalia and Phantom were busy battling encroaching Drynland soldiers, while Zayn was on the ground, clutching his chest.
Aleks stood a few feet away from Zayn, his sword dripping red. Perfectly still. Perfectly poised. As if he didn’t know—or care—what he’d just done. He eventually looked back at his fallen cousin, lifting his sword and giving it a lazy twirl, as if casuallytrying to decide whether or not it was worth the effort to finish Zayn off.
“Can you make him stop, I wonder?” Severin mused aloud. It seemed like an actual question—not a taunt, but a test. An experiment. I was nothing more than a pawn in the game he was creating, and I hated it. But I kept playing because I had no choice, because I couldn’t just stand there letting myself fall apart while people died around me.
I hurried to Zayn’s side, kneeling beside him. His eyes were unfocused, his breathing rapid and shallow. But he said my name…so he recognized me, at least. And the wound seemed less critical up close, involving his shoulder more than his chest.
Grabbing the knife at my ankle, I ripped off the bottom half of his shirt, then used it to wipe aside the blood and better assess the wound.
“I appreciate your interest,” he rasped, running a hand over the skin I’d exposed. “But now isn’t really the time for us to be getting naked.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, arranging the fabric squarely over the cut, trying to stem the bleeding.
He huffed out a laugh that quickly shifted into a pained groan. “Also, you’d think I’d have learned by now to…to…”
“To what?”
“To stop following your reckless ass into battle.”
“Not my fault you’re a slow learner,” I said, guiding his hand to the fabric and forcing him to press firmly despite his discomfort.
A shadow overtook us.
Aleks.
I repositioned myself, shielding Zayn with my body. Staring up at Aleks, at his body silhouetted by the sun, violet magic crackling around him…it was the first time he truly looked like something…other.
It didn’t last. As he moved closer, stepping out of the direct sunlight, he looked just like Aleks once more—and I didn’t know which was worse.
I wanted to scream at him.
To shake him until he woke up, until he managed to slip free of whatever spells were binding us to this horror.
Grimnor hummed beside me, its blade lighting with its true magic. No longer tainted with Lorien’s power. The ghostly twists against the black steel called to my shadows, reminding me of the ancient strength that I carried within me.
For a moment—just a horrible, breathless moment—I wondered if that strength could be enough.
What would happen to Aleks if I managed to overpower him? If my shadows managed to fill up that awful emptiness his magic created? To somehow undo it?
I wrapped my fingers around Grimnor’s handle, but I couldn’t seem to lift it.
“Get up,” he said, coldly.
“Aleks, please…”
“Up.”
Zayn’s hand closed around my wrist, as if to stop me. His grip was surprisingly strong. He’d managed to sit upright, too, and Thalia and Phantom were drawing closer as well, all of them clearly prepared to hold me back.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my brother running toward me. Soldiers preceded him, their weapons at the ready; as soon as they drew too close, Aleks immediately turned to deal with them, lifting his bloody sword with smooth, deadly grace.
“Stop!” I jumped up, closing the distance between us in a few long, panicked strides. “You don’t have any orders to do anything to them.” My balance wavered as he looked at me, but I didn’t back down. “It’s me you’re after, right?”
