His expression was unreadable but brought me no comfort.
When I disclosed to Sybilla that the Wastelands were open—knowledge he had entrusted me with—I hadn’t expected her to make a public spectacle of the reveal. We were caught in the web of warring royals, a place I had never been but one that Fenris knew intimately.
I hoped my trust in the Queen wasn’t misplaced.
“There will be no questioning this. Magic will return to Luz. The Orderbe damned, for she who made that decree threatens to approach our gates to draw blood from our people. She approaches our gates on the wings of power thatwegave her. We will not wait to bleed. Luz will not fall to tyranny.”
Queen Wymark knew precisely how to rouse a crowd.
“Luz will not fall!”
They echoed her—men, women and guards all yelling back. Gone was Sybilla, Emmerick’s cuss-spewing childhood friend. In her place was a calculated strategist, and she’d just won her nobles’ support.
“Luz will not bleed!” she yelled over them, and they repeated the phrase until it was a chant.
Firose had done irreparable damage to trust in the Order. She had intended to claim me like an asset from my birth mother, yet the thought of going head-to-head with her on a battlefield made my head throb and my heart thump loudly.I couldn’t.
As the nobles chanted, everything seemed to grow cold and slow.
“You must choose now, young starling and young fireling. And choose wisely.”
I knew better than to look for the source of that ethereal voice. Only the widening of his eyes told me that Fenris had heard it too.“Choose wisely.”
He reached out a hand toward me, but he was on the other side of the courtyard.
A scream cut through the chanting—I spun around to face the source of it. A woman had a sword ran through her middle, crimson staining her lavender gown. The blade was removed abruptly and the woman fell to the ground.
My body felt stuck to the spot as a flash of gold and black armor passed my right side.
“Not her!” I heard someone yell.
A clambering of blades sounded as Luz guards attempted to fight back men invading the courtyard from all entrances.
Northern soldiers. Here. Attacking nobles in the Central Corridor. Peace Prevail.
A blade was raised and swung at my neck. I ducked, narrowly avoiding decapitation.
A guard yelled, “You idiot! She saiddon’tkill the magic ones. Detain them!”
Firose.It had to be.
Emmerick ran from my side toward the podium.
“You must choose now.”
I stared down the guard who had swung his sword at me. Something flashed at his hip—binding cuffs.I formed two blue flames in my palms.
“Too bad. No one told me not to killyou.”
I shot the flame from my palm. In a streak of light, the orb slammed into the guard’s armor, searing it and burning straight through his heart.
Fen was right. I had never killed until that moment. My hands trembled, and my whole body felt heavy, like I might faint right there in the fray.
A second northern soldier charged me.
I could not let Firose capture me. Not when my and Fenris’ powers were so woven.What could she do with all of that power?
I didn’t watch the second orb strike the approaching soldier, though the blood-gargled groan told me that I did not miss my mark. That grotesque sound of death would stay with me in my nightmares.
