He’s staring down at me. “You said I couldn’t kill you. Let’s see how true that is.”
Jax is shouting, but I’ve lost track of where he is. I’ve lost track of what’s happening. My forehead hits the ground. Blood is in my mouth. That can’t be good.
“Now give me my message,” Alek is saying.
I don’t understand. My thoughts are full of pain and anguish. “What—what—”
But he’s not talking to me. He’s talking to Jax, who’s nodding, his eyes wide and full of fear. “Yes, my lord.” He holds out a folded, sealed piece of parchment. I watch it change hands.
Alek tucks it beneath his cloak. His breathing is a bit ragged, and I smell singed fabric. “As you see, Tycho, this has nothing to do with you.”
“I’ll find you,” I growl, then cough on my own blood. “The king will—”
“The king will do nothing. You attacked me with magic. I defended myself. My guards witnessed it. This blacksmith witnessed it.” He leans close, his hand catching my throat again, fingers digging in. “Ishouldcut your hands off and watch you bleed to death.”
My vision is blurring. I can’t tell if it’s lack of air or if it’s all my horrific memories assaulting me at once. I want to curl into a ball, but I need to find my weapons. I need to—I need to—
“No!” Jax shouts, and glowing steel swings in front of me. Alek flinches back in surprise. The guards rush forward. Firelight glints on their weapons, and I hear a body hit the dirt.
But Alek laughs humorlessly. “No. Leave him. He’s done his duty.” Alek flings silver into the snow. “You have my thanks, boy.”
I take a breath and cough on blood again. “You’recommitting treason.”
“If I were committing treason, I’d kill you both right now.”
My head is spinning with confusion and betrayal and uncertainty. Nothing makes sense. I’m not sure what to make of this. But they’re turning away. I blink, and hooves pound the earth.
“My lord.” Hands are pulling at my clothes, rolling me over. “My lord.Tycho.”
I blink again and I’m looking up at Jax. His hair has spilled loose from its knot, and it falls across his face. His hazel-green eyes look gold in the firelight. He’s exquisite and terrifying. I can’t tell if he’s a friend or an enemy.
“Tell me what to do,” he says in a rush. “Tell me—should I pull the blade?”
My hand is still struggling to get a grip on the hilt. I can’t breathe. I can’t speak. I can feel the magic, but there’s so much damage, so much pain, and I’m having trouble focusing. I do know I can’t heal with a blade in the way. I nod. At least I hope I’m nodding.
He takes hold. The dagger is wrenched free.
It drags a shout from my throat, then a sob. The blade hurts just as much coming out.
Jax is on his knees at my side, pressing his hands to the wound. He’s swearing, looking from the wound to my face. There’s a streak of blood on his cheek. “Can you heal it? Tell me you can heal it.”
I don’t know.I don’t know. The pain is so intense I might vomit in the dirt. But stars flare in my vision as the magic begins to work, sparks of power swirling in my blood. It only takes a minute for the wound to close, but it’s the longest minute in the history of time. My insides will take longer. Blood is still in my mouth, hot and metallic. I feel wrung out. Magic has a price, and I’ve paid it many times today.
But Jax is still kneeling above me, his eyes golden pools. That dagger is somewhere.
I have business with this blacksmith.
I roll away from him, staggering to my feet, landing in a crouch. I’m panting from the effort, but I’ve got weapons in hand.
His eyes widen, and he draws away. I watch his gaze go from my blades to my face and back.
“Was this a trap?” I growl, and my voice sounds like I’ve swallowed gravel.
“No!”
“Were you to delay me? Were you working with him?”
“You camehere!” he snaps. “You draggedmeinto the woods!”
