I snarl.
Within seconds, I am behind them. Separating them. Lifting my sword to cut off his head. Zephyra flings me around, however, stilling the swing of my arm. Sliding between us to protect the damned guard. “No killing, Arion,” she hisses, even as Caspian fights to continue dragging her. “Please.Please.”
I look between them. At his hard grip, and her bruised arm. At the silver scars on her body, and the fear in her eyes. Damn it all to the Fathoms. I lower my sword—right as Vesper creeps up beside me, raises the hilt of her own weapon, and bashes Caspian on the back of his teeth-encrusted skull.
Caspian collapses.
Zephyra crouches after him, lifting his wasted head in her lap.
“Rope,” Amaya says calmly. “We should tie him up. We have no way of knowing if he’ll be out for long—”
As though he heard her, Caspian’s mouth falls open. An earsplitting wail wrenches from somewhere deep inside him, unearthly andhorrible. Though, his eyes remain shut. He remains unconscious.
Zephyra curses. “This didn’t… this hasn’t happened before,” she yells over his screams.
“Whatisit?” Vesper asks, helping Carmen unravel a bundle of rope from her tool belt.
“I think it’s an alarm.” Zephyra glances at me, and I wish more than ever I could feel her through the bond. I wish I could reassure her in some way. But I don’t know that I can.
I should haveknown. I should have suspected something like this. It was too easy. Draining the sea, walking through the trench, the doors opening for us—it’s all been so fucking easy. I’m a warlock. I’ve been awar general.
The rest of the castle groans and creaks in response to Caspian’s wail. I can only assume other guards have begun to tear free from the walls too. Caspian won’t be the last. We will have to act quickly to incapacitate them all.
Vesper and Carmen bind Caspian’s wrists and ankles first, then gag his mouth. I help Zephyra to her feet, searching her for any injuries beyond that fresh bruise from Caspian’s stone grip. I spread my fingers across it. My magic rises through me on a tidal wave, eager to heal her, comfort her, but—
She grasps my chin. Hard. “No, Arion. Conserve your strength. It’s just a bruise.” Then, lower, she adds, “I’ll be okay.”
My jaw hardens, but I nod.
The cursed skull cackles with hideous glee.“Though you are distracted, you really ought to stop. Behind you, behind you, the chandelier is about to drop.”
With a growl, I whirl around—weallwhirl around—to see that the skull is, unfortunately, correct. The chandelier is lowering and lowering, shifting into the shape of another guard. A child this time, his limbs twisted and his eyes bright amber. The sorcerer has replaced them, replaced his fingertips and toes and teeth too, with pieces of the glowing stone. We all stare at him in horror as the child smiles wide, and light pulsates through the room. “Zephyra,” he coos, reaching toward her with those eerie, luminous fingers. “Zephyra, you’re home.”
I don’t allow Zephyra, nor anyone else, even a second to react.Instead, I rush toward the boy, scoop him into my arms, and wrap my bicep around his throat. Gently as possible, I apply pressure to the sensitive points along his neck and squeeze my muscles until he chokes. Gags. And then faints. I set him on the floor beside Caspian. Sure enough, the boy’s mouth falls open too, and he begins to wail the same alarm.
“Gag him first,” I order Vesper.
She glares at me but complies, binding him the same way before tying the two guards—servants—together.
One of Amaya’s soldiers vomits, and Gavriall presses a hand to his mouth. “This is bad,” he says, the words muffled and frantic.
“Not as bad as it could be,” Zephyra says, unable to tear her gaze from the boy. “This means the sorcerer isn’t here.”
“But he will be.” I glare at the surrounding members. “We need to move quickly and carefully. Split up now. Cover what ground you can before dawn. Look for anything that leadsbelowand remember—we regroup at the ship.”
“And how are we reaching that ship?” Vesper spits. “We’re trapped, remember?”
“Then we’ll regroup here instead. Okay?” Zephyra weaves her hair into a quick braid over her shoulder. “Don’t lose sight of your partners.”
“Split up,” Amaya echoes, commanding her infantry alone. “Now.”
They do as she says, breaking off into clusters of four. Vesper yanks Gavriall to her side without a word. He blinks at her, surprised as the rest of us, until she says, “You’ve memorized the map. You’re with me.”
Amaya nods for Carmen and another soldier to join them before facing me. “I’ll go with you.”
“No,” I say quickly. Calmly.
The princess casts me a suspicious look. “Excuse me, Warlock Stone?”
