“Do it now!”
The sound of his retreating steps told me he’d finally listened.
Silveren started across the bridge, his gaze fixed on the retreating Sun Margrave. Wind stirred his hair. He carried a sword in his hand, long, sharp, and white as if it were cut from an iceberg. The beast behind him followed, paw over paw, like a cat walking along the top of a fence.
I blocked his way.
“You don’t have to do this.”
His face was feral. He didn’t even register me. He would walk right past me, and his dursan would brush me off the bridge. Matheo would die next, and then the brothers, and the Sun Margrave. Even if they reached the tower, that door wouldn’t hold for long. If all else failed, he could bring the tower down on their heads.
The Sun Margrave would die. Reynald’s line would end with Matheo. Silveren would rampage unchecked, and Kair Toren would burn.
I reached for the chain around my neck. My fingers found Digi’s amulet. I ripped it free and squeezed the claw. The gem broke in my fist. A burst of magic pierced me, the pain so intense I almost blacked out. She hadn’t mentioned that part.
For forty breaths, Mirabor Savaric would see the person he loved most in my place. And I knew exactly who that was.
“Little bird?” I said.
Silveren froze. “Mother?”
I walked toward him.
“Mother . . .” he said. His face was slack with shock. Tears wet his golden eyes.
“You’ve done so well.”
I reached him and stroked his face with my left hand, brushing his cheek. He raised his hand and put it over mine.
“You were so brave. You worked so hard. But it is enough now. You have to stop.”
His voice was a tortured snarl. “I can’t!”
“Of course you can. Just let go. You are stronger than this. Live for me, my little bird. Live and be happy. That’s the best revenge.”
A tear slid from his eyes. The sadness in them was enough to make you cry with him. He shut his eyes for a long moment, swallowed, and when he opened them again, they were frozen over with hard fury.
Oh no.
Silveren shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t, because Father is dead, Mother.”
His voice was cold.
“They killed him. And they killed you, too.”
He pointed over my shoulder. “That man killed you. I don’t want to live. I don’t need to be happy. I want him to die. I want them all to die.”
I was running out of time.
“Please, Mirabor. Please, for me. No more death. No more killing. Just run away and live.”
He shook his head harder. “I will kill them all. And when they’re dead, I will build a pyre of their bodies, so the rest of this cursed city can choke on the smoke rising from their corpses.”
A hint of awareness crept into his eyes. He stiffened under my touch.
I stabbed him through my dress, exactly like Ramond had taught me. My dagger bit into his thigh, and I stabbed him again and again. Fast and hard.
He snarled. His left hand clamped my throat, cutting off my air. There was no panic. There was only icy cold. I knew what to do and I did it. I lifted my dagger and stabbed him in the kidney. He let go, his face contorted.
