My brother’s blood slickens its edge.
“A traitor to the North dies like a Player,” Eleni says bluntly, like an afterthought. She turns on her heel and points at Jude, who I realize is kneeling beside me, speaking words I can’t hear. “Take him,” she adds.
I hear nothing else beyond the ringing in my ears and the word“Éxodos”leaving my lips over and over, louder each time. But there’s no reality of his left to suspend.
“Alistaire, he’s already gone.” The words are Jude’s. I ignore him and shake off the hand he places on my shoulder. Blood stains the tips of my fingers. Galen’s eyes are cloudy and open, turned to the sky. Gone.
Suddenly, I’m a child again, watching the havoc unfold around me at the news of our father’s cold body. Found in the very same place. Right outside the Playhouse.
“Jude Stepharros, under Theatron law, you are to stand trial for—”
I can’t look away from Galen, but I hear the drag of Eleutheraen chains coming for Jude.
“Alistaire?” Jude calls, fighting as he’s ripped from my side. “Look at me—Alistaire!”
Maybe I should be satisfied. This should feel like justice. Jude is the reason this happened. I want Jude dead. I’m sure I do.
Except Galen is gone. And not because of the Players he protected me from since I was small. But by the hands of our own people. With our father’s own knife.
It’s not fair. It doesn’t make sense.
“Alistaire—”
I glance upward. Golden links cuff Jude’s wrists. Something beneath my skin moves at the sight. Startles. Wakes up.
I have never been angrier in my life than I am right now.
Somewhere, deep inside my head, that bridge locks firmly into place, and something furious and dark courses through it.
That anger will be the death of—
“Please look at me,” Jude yells, trying to get my attention when I am entirely somewhere else. “Look at me.Riven!”
Riven.
My world stops.
Slowly, I turn and do just as he asks. I look at Jude, a Player.
A Player who knows my real name.
“Let him go.” I don’t recognize the voice that comes out of me. It’s not begging or even asking. The voice that comes out of me is an offer, a warning.
The four men holding Jude stagger. Their eyes whirl with confusion, like they’re trying to remember how to breathe.
“It would be unwise to attempt the use of Craft on marked men,” Eleni bites out, steps away. I don’t bother looking up at her. It takes everything to tear my eyes away from Galen, feeling helpless. Feelingalone.
I am alone now. Wholly and completely.
But I amnothelpless.
Warmth floods my veins. Crawls up my throat and slides down my tongue.
“Sil, control your—”
My mouth opens. “Eleni stands still.”
It’s like someone pauses the entire world. Silence strikes the mayhem surrounding us, bringing it to a hesitant stillness.
