Page 174 of Burn of the Everflame

Teller got to him first.

I was still swaying, immobilized by truth’s bitter blow, when my brother went flying past me. The music abruptly stopped as people leapt out of his warpath across the camp. Henri looked up from where he was sitting with a group of mortals by the fire.

“What did you do?” Teller snarled at him.

Henri frowned at the venom in my brother’s voice. He shifted Lana off his lap and slowly rose to his feet.

“Tel, buddy,” he said, “is something wr⁠—”

“I’m not your buddy or your pal or your little bro.” He grabbed Henri’s shirt and yanked him chest to chest, hissing in his face. “What the fuck did you do?”

“What’s going on?” my mother asked, her confused expression darting between her enraged son and her dazed, trembling daughter.

Henri raised his hands in surrender. “Teller,” he said, his voice going low, “Diem and I made amends. We’re friends now. Right, D?” His focus shot to me, but I could only stare in speechless horror. “All four of us are friends, right?” He looked to a terrified-looking Lana, who hurriedly nodded, then to Luther.

But my mate’s attention was on me. His happy mood had vanished, his mouth set in a hard, grim line. He looked, inexplicably, as furious as Teller. But there was something else lurking in the shadows curling at the edges of his blue-grey eyes. Something soft and sad.

Like he knew my world was about to come crashing down.

Like he already knew why.

The air punched from my lungs, my wobbling knees struggling to hold the enormous weight ballooning in my chest. Everything was spinning and bright. My skin felt too hot and too cold, all at once. I wanted to rip it off and throw it away, to put on another body, another life.

Teller slid a knife from a sheath at his hip and held its blade to Henri’s neck. “Tell me what you know.”

Lana screamed.

“Teller!” my mother shouted.

Some nearby Guardians jumped forward to intervene, but a few members of the Royal Guard pulled their weapons and stepped in the rebels’ path, ready to defend their fellow Guardsman without explanation.

“What the hell?” Henri shouted, wrestling with my brother’s arm. “Tell you what I know about what?”

“About my father’s murder!”

Henri instantly stilled.

His eyes shot to mine.

That was the only answer Teller needed. He flipped the knife around in his hand and punched it toward Henri’s chest with a growl. Henri managed to lunge enough to prevent a killing blow, but he cried out as the blade sank deep into his shoulder.

Lana screamed again and rushed toward him, then slammed against a glimmering dome that had trapped Henri inside with Teller. Nearby, Taran stood with his hand extended and a chilling glare.

Lana went staggering backward at the impact, then lost her balance, tripping over her skirts and falling toward the blazing campfire. A last-second burst of shadows from Luther’s palm extinguished the flames and left her toppling into the ashes.

The Guardians erupted. Some ran to help Lana, while others pulled their weapons to confront the Royal Guards, which spurred army soldiers to come running to their defense. Alixe ordered everyone to stand down, and my mother did the same, though their voices were drowned out by Henri’s panicked yelling to make sure Lana wasn’t hurt. Others eagerly edged forward to watch the commotion. I could feel the burn of expectant eyes on me, watching and waiting for me to quell the unrest. For me to lead.

But I was still staring at the paper at my feet, trying to make sense of a world that no longer did.

“Diem?”

Luther’s voice was so painfully quiet. His hand hovered at my arm, not quite touching. I stared at it and thought of how I’d found Luther that day, standing in the doorway of my family’s home, my father’s blood coating his arms to the elbows. The guilt-ridden anguish on his face, so similar to the tortured expression he was wearing now.

“Did you know?” I rasped.

He didn’t respond. He grabbed the letter from the ground and skimmed its contents.

Behind him, Henri had managed to dislodge the knife from his shoulder and chuck it aside, but Teller had pinned him to the soil. My brother slammed his fist into Henri’s face over and over.