Teryn’s neck prickled beneath the threat, but he kept his expression stony.
“You know what?” Morkai turned and marched closer to the charred field. “Enough chit-chat. I think what you need is visual proof.”
Teryn’s eyes sought Cora’s. She met his gaze and he saw all of his own fears and confusion reflected back at him.
Morkai crouched at the edge of the field and pressed his hand to the charred earth. At first, nothing happened. Then movement at the far end of the field. One of the charred stumps…was growing. A shape formed from the shadows, creating a silhouette of an enormous head on a hulking body. That was when Teryn realized it hadn’t been a stump at all. It was the Beast.
Lex edged closer to Teryn, as did Cora, her hands fumbling at her back, her waist, searching frantically for the weapons that weren’t there. She froze when Teryn’s hand alighted on her shoulder. This time, she didn’t glare or pull away.
The Beast paid them no heed as it plodded forward, showing no sign that it had ever been injured by Cora. Both of its beady eyes were intact and its raw-looking red skin hid any sign of puncture. It stopped next to Morkai and sat back on its haunches. The creature towered over the duke, but Morkai patted its hide as if it were only a dog. Then, keeping one hand on the Beast, he lifted his other palm to the sky.
Teryn didn’t dare blink as he watched a fog slowly creep over the field. Little by little, the misty patches began to grow brighter, reflecting the light of the moon. Soon shapes began to solidify and disperse, forming something akin to bodies. Teryn saw a hand here, a leg there, heads with dark holes where eyes should be.
Cora stepped back, flinging out a hand. Her gloved fingers came around his wrist and she made no move to let go. “Wraiths,” she whispered.
Teryn’s heart slammed against his ribs at the word. The longer Teryn stared at the humanlike shapes forming on the field, the more he realized there was no other word to describe them. There were hundreds of the semi-translucent figures all clustered together over the charred soil, and in each of their hands was an equally translucent weapon—swords, spears, axes, bows. They wore armor the same color as their ghostly bodies but the style was outdated. Ancient.
“What…who are they?” Cora asked.
“Spirits from a nearly forgotten war,” Morkai said. “They died trapped between two realms and have wandered the planes between the living and the dead ever since. Now they serve me. I sacrificed the garden for them, traded death for life. Or something like it at least.”
Lex’s voice rose a few octaves as he muttered, “What the bloody hell.”
Morkai stepped away from the Beast, and the creature plodded off to lie down a few paces away. The duke turned to face Teryn and his companions, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at seeing the three of them huddled together. “Come, Aveline,” he said, waving Cora forward.
She remained in place, her fingers still clasped around Teryn’s wrist.
Morkai’s gaze slid down to their hands, and his expression turned hard. Cora seemed to realize the source of his attention and stepped away from Teryn, releasing her grip and fisting her hands in the folds of her silk skirts. “I have no desire for a closer view.” Her eyes darted from Morkai to the wavering forms of the wraiths.
“Oh, I’m not inviting you over just to look.” He gestured to someone behind them, and one of his guards stepped forward carrying Cora’s bow and quiver. “You’re to participate in the demonstration.” To the guard, he added, “Bring them.”
Teryn tensed, assuming Morkai meant him and Lex. Instead, two more guards entered the garden from the courtyard. They hauled two bedraggled men whose hands were cuffed in iron, and shoved them before Morkai. The older of the two stumbled to his knees. His face was bruised, and an open cut seeped above his eyebrow. The younger man tried to help him up, but the duke held his cane between them.
“Monster,” the younger man bit out. “Usurper. Filth—”
In a flash, Morkai snapped his cane against the side of the older man’s face, opening his wound further.
Teryn started forward, his fists curled so tight he felt his nails dig straight through his dinner gloves to his palms. He halted in place at a sharp look from the duke. Another guard stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword.Damn it. He hated being unarmed. He hated himself for getting into this mess.
“Enough,” the duke said to the younger man. “One more word and I’ll break your father’s legs.”
The younger man’s throat bobbed. His eyes burned with rage but he pursed his lips against further argument.
“Now,” Morkai said, “walk eight paces onto the field. Refuse and your father dies. Take one step after your eight paces are complete and he dies. Go.”
“Don’t do it, Bradley,” the older man begged. “Obey not a word the usurper says.”
Bradley only hesitated a moment, just long enough for Morkai to slightly lift his cane. On trembling legs, he strode eight paces forward.
Toward the waiting wraiths.
Only a dozen or so feet stood between Bradley and the apparitions.
The guard bearing Cora’s weapons handed her the bow and quiver. She took them with a wary expression that echoed the dread Teryn felt inside. Arming Cora felt too good to be true. She kept her eyes trained on the duke as she slung her bow over her shoulder, creating an odd contrast with her elegant gown. “What is this about?”
Morkai gestured at Bradley. “He will face my wraiths while you, Aveline, defend him. If he still lives after one minute, both he and his father go free.”
Teryn glanced from Cora to the wraiths, then the two prisoners.
