Silvia freezes mid-motion, her eager smile vanishing. The temperature in the room seems to drop.
I expect her to deny any knowledge of what I’m talking about, but she doesn’t.
She frowns. “Why?”
My eyebrows raise. I don’t know how to answer that question, because to me, it seems obvious. “Because it’s the right thing to do?”
“If this is about your wolf specifically,” she says, her voice suddenly brittle. “We can discuss his situation if he survives.”
“No,” I say firmly, meeting her gaze without flinching. “It’s about all of them. I’ve met them, spent time with them. They’re good people, Silvia.”
“All kingdoms have armies,” she says with a slightly patronizing smile.
“Yes, but in other kingdoms it’s voluntary to join the army. Other kingdoms don’t force children to fight monsters, or prevent their soldiers from forming soul-bonds.”
“Did you know they hate magic?” Silvia asks, her voice hardening. “They were only too happy to bring every magic user in the kingdom here and turn them in.”
I lean forward, my hands steady despite the anger building in my chest. “Yes, but they hate magic because you’re using it to hurt and oppress them,” I counter. “It’s understandable that they would be wary of the thing used to hurt their children.”
“I thought you would understand,” she hisses, color rising in her cheeks. “I thought you would be on my side! I don’t even need to free your precious wolf for you,” she says, examining her nails. “He’s already free, and you’re still all ungrateful.”
“How would you know that?” I ask, my voice steady despite my racing heart.
“Because I saw him earlier and tried to command him,” she says, then freezes, realizing her mistake. “I couldn’t make him obey like the others. He’s not bound to me.”
I can’t pretend I didn’t catch her slip. “You said he was unconscious.”
Caught in the lie, Silvia doesn’t even bother to defend herself. Her face transforms before me—her delicate features twisting, that carefully crafted mask of sisterly affection crumbling away.
“Where is he?” I demand, stepping closer, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “Tell me where Fox is. Now.”
Before I can react, a whoosh of warm air hits me with the force of a brick wall. I go flying backwards off my feet, and hit the bookshelves on the opposite side of the room, knocking the breath from my lungs. My instincts take over and I push back with my own magic, sending Silvia stumbling backward into the opposite wall.
I stagger to my feet at the same time as Silvia, both of us trying to beat the other to the next punch. She wins, her eyes narrowing as she extends her hands out. The bookshelf behind me trembles violently. I spring away just in time, before it erupts into flames. Sparks, wooden splinters, and torn pages fly in all directions like deadly rain.
I thrust my palms forward, channeling my magic to immobilize her, but instead of the familiar rush of power, I feel a disturbing shift in the current between us.
There’s a tugging deep inside me, as if someone is trying to unravel my very essence. I gasp in pain as weakness floods my limbs. The sensation reminds me of how hollow I felt after saving Gunner, but a thousand times worse.
It’s as if she’s draining my magic. I didn’t know that was possible, but there’s nothing I can do as I feel my power draining away, flowing toward Silvia’s outstretched fingers like water down a drain.
Silvia advances toward me, palms forward, triumph gleaming in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to kill you. I’ll leave you with just enough that you can spend the rest of your life in the tower, just like our mother.”
I gasp. My chest aches, like she’s splitting me down the middle, tearing my very heart from my body. I fall forward, collapsing to my knees, and find myself eye level with my satchel and Fox’s sword, forgotten and leaning against a chair. My heart skips a beat as my gaze narrows in on the sword.
Silvia might be more powerful than me, but magic isn’t my only weapon. It’s as Fox told me a long time ago: “It’s hard to do magic without hands.”
My vision narrows to the sword’s hilt. Heartbeats thunder in my ears as I crawl forward, nails scraping stone floor. I force one knee under me, then both. My trembling fingers find the leather grip of the sword and I haul myself up.
Silvia lets out a cruel laugh. “You don’t even know how to use that, do you? Go ahead, try, you’ll probably stab yourself before you ever reach me.”
I smile, grip the hilt with both hands, and swing.
The sword slices easily through both of Silvia’s outstretched hands, like a knife through butter. For one suspended moment, the world stands still. Silvia is frozen in disbelief, her face blank with shock.
Then as if in slow motion, her eyes follow the path of her hands as they slide off her wrists and hit the floor with a wet thud. The invisible siphon that had been draining my power vanishes instantly, and I gasp for breath, as if a heavy weight was just removed from my chest.
Silvia staggers backward, blood spraying across the stone floor as she lets out a piercing, earth-shattering, scream.
