Father stood over the bloodied bundle to my right, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Tears streamed down his face.
His voice cracked, the words torn from somewhere deep inside his chest. “They think this will break us.” His shoulders shook with rising rage. “Those damn rebels and their king think that murdering my daughter will make me cower, will make me weak.” He lifted his head, and the fury in his eyes made his advisors step backward. “They’re wrong.”
Lord Baswick’s face had paled. “Your Majesty, we’ll mobilize?—”
“Everyregiment,” Father snarled, his grief turning sharp. “Every sword, every soldier. We will hunt them down like the animals they are. We will burn their camps, salt their soil, and leave nothing but ashes behind.” His voice rose to a roar that echoed off the marble walls. “Does their king truly want to see what wrath looks like? He’ll have it.”
Commander Thorne stood nearby, his jaw tight with his own barely contained emotion. He’d indulged Addie like a second daughter. I’d seen him give her small toys when she was little, and combs for her hair or a pretty stone he’d found as she got older.
The other advisors muttered agreement, their faces shouting fury and determination that matched my father’s.
Father knelt beside me, his face drained of all color. He reached out and stroked a bit of Addie’s hair off what had once been her face, swallowing hard, now just a father looking at what remained of his youngest daughter.
Grief twisted into something dark and biting inside me. The magic I’d spent a lifetime suppressing surged through my blood, desperate for release. I clenched my fists until my nails cut my palms, using the physical pain to hold myself together.
For one dizzy, impossible second, I imagined Addie standing inthe doorway, releasing that fearless laugh of hers, scolding me for crying at a party.
But she wasn’t coming back.
If mercy couldn’t save her, what good was it at all?
I needed to stop trying to save people one at a time and tear down the whole system.
I’d start with the rebels who’d taken Mae’s son.
The rebels who’d murdered my sister.
The rebel king who would pay for it all.
4
ISI
The boat cut through the big lake’s water with no visible means of propulsion, guided by a ferryman who sat in the back of the small craft, his weathered hands never touching an oar.
A small owl perched on his shoulder, its amber eyes fixed on me, winking in the late-day sunlight struggling to break through the mist. Everything about this journey felt wrong, from the magical way the boat moved through the water to the carefully constructed lies I’d used as I traveled.
It had taken me five days to reach the border of the Syllavar Court, and that was on one of the castle’s swiftest horses. By then, my back had dulled to a manageable throb.
Then I’d spent a week crossing the wasteland on foot after the animal bolted the first night I’d laid down to sleep on the edge of the vast swamp spanning the upper portion of this cursed place. By then, I could move without wincing inside.
I’d continued on foot after that, slogging through the mud until I emerged into the scruffy land beyond. From there, traveling had been easier. I’d stopped to buy food at inns or small farms, carefullyquestioning those I approached. That was how I’d learned the rebel stronghold lay in this direction.
“It’s on the island,” someone had said. “You’ll need to cross by boat.” Followed by, “Good of you to go, girl. We need new recruits with what’s coming.”
Battle with my father, I assumed. I needed to finish my mission and return swiftly to warn him that the rebels knew he was gathering an attacking force.
“You’re lean, but I’m sure you’ll do well in the trials,” the ferryman said, his craggy voice dragging across the open water of the lake around us.
“Trials?” Commander Thorne hadn’t mentioned them, but he’d only passed through this land once and didn’t know much about the rebels.
“I speak of the Rite of Bonds, girl.”
“Isi,” I said in an even tone. I’d never felt like an Amarissa. Isi suited me better.
His scowl deepened. “You’re a recruit, aren’t you? That’s all that matters.” His gaze slid up and down my frame. “Your magic’s weak, but I can still feel it.”
My heart came to a standstill, and my head spun. He knew I had magic.
