His brows slammed down. “You don’t sound very confident.”
She cast her gaze at the heavy doors. Everything was silent and still. And very creepy. “I’ll have to push it out of me. That could take a few minutes. After that, I’m not sure. It’s not like I’ve had a chance to practice.”
“Do you think you can control it?”
“The Ruin?” Reyna reached inside of herself, opening her mind to the magic she’d tried so hard to block out. But the storm stayed silent. “I don’t think it can be controlled. Not even the Dagda could manage that, and he was its creator. A Fomorian with far greater strength than me.”
“Reyna.” His voice dropped low. “This is a mistake. If you have no hope of controlling it, you know what it will do. As soon as you release it, it will turn its storm right on you. It’s desperate to destroy you. It’s been ripping you apart all this time. You were scarcely able to stand when I found you, all because it’s slowly been eating at you for weeks. It has one purpose and one purpose only, and that’s to kill you.”
“No,” she whispered, her chest lifting as she sucked in a deep breath. “It’s sole purpose is to kill the Namhaid, and that’s not me.”
“But it thinks youare.”
“So, all I can hope is that I’ve been able to convince it otherwise,” she whispered. “It has lived inside my head for weeks, like you said. It knows my thoughts. It’s heard my darkest fears and has seen the worst parts of me. I’ve thought and done things I’m not proud of, but that doesn’t make me the Namhaid. I’m staring the Ruin in the face and asking it to really look at me. Maybe it will realize I’m not the one it needs to kill.”
“We’re pinning a lot on a maybe, Reyna.”
“It’s all we have, Lorcan. And you know it.”
He let out a low growl. His entire body seemed to vibrate with an anger she knew wasn’t directed toward her. It was this impossible situation. It was the wood king. It was the magic storming through her veins. He grasped her hand in his, and together, they approached the throne room door.
With a shuddering breath, his dark gaze locked on hers. “Are you ready?”
No.
“Let’s go in,” she whispered back.
She raised her leg and slammed her boot against the wood. It splintered beneath the force, knocking the door wide open. It creaked as it swung inward, revealing a long dark hall, the arched ceiling held aloft by pillars of midnight. The throne squatted menacingly on the empty dais. The sleek stone seemed to glimmer in the darkness. Not a single torch was lit. Shadows swirled through the hall like eager wraiths.
Reyna’s heart slammed against her ribs as they edged inside. “He’s not here.”
Lorcan’s brows pinched together. “Where else would he be?”
Frustration rose up in the back of her throat with a bitter twang. They’d rushed through the battle, fighting their way here, leaving behind everyone else to fend for themselves. All for what? An empty throne room. An absent king.
A splash of red in the corner of her vision caught her eye. Reyna twisted toward it to find hundreds of rose petals carpeting the stone floor. They formed a circle in the far corner beneath a banner embroidered with the Shadow Court sigil. In the center of it all sat two life-size antlers, tied together with black ribbon.
“Lorcan,” she whispered as dread pooled in her gut. Lifting a finger, she pointed at the strange symbol in the midst of all the roses. “What’s that?”
Lorcan stiffened when his gaze landed on the symbol. “Those antlers are from the first shadow king’s stag. It was his familiar. The people of this city kept the antlers after he died to show him honor.”
Reyna’s mouth went dry. She clutched Lorcan’s hand tighter in hers before she forced herself to pull away. “I think there is more going on here than meets the eye.”
“I think you’re right.”
She pulled the sword out of its scabbard and rose it before her eyes. “Come on out, Molt. We know you’re hiding in here somewhere. You wanted to fight us, didn’t you? Well, here we are.”
Suddenly, the air before her seemed to ripple. Images flashed before her, settling into shape. Ulaid Molt stood before the throne with a wicked grin pulling up the thin corners of his lips. He was surrounded by at least ten warriors. Dozens more shuddered out of the shadows behind Reyna and Lorcan, surrounding the two of them in an instant. Reyna’s heart thundered as all her blood drained from her face. Those damn illusions.
“Welcome to the Shadow Court again,Your Highness.” Ulaid Molt flashed an angry glance at Reyna. “Youare very hard to kill.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smug smile that betrayed none of the tormented unease storming through her gut. “I try.”
Molt raised his fingers and flicked them toward the guards edging closer from behind. Reyna growled and tightened her grip on her sword, whirling toward them, readying herself for a fight.
“Ah, ah,” Molt sang. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you do not lay down your weapons, we will kill your friends.”
A finger of dread scraped down Reyna’s spine. Slowly, she turned back to gaze up at Molt’s cruel face. Who did he mean? Her fellow Shieldmaidens from home? How could he have gotten his hands on them? Is that why Thane and her father never showed? Molt had somehow snagged control of the north? It seemed impossible.
