Page 142

‘I feel nothing. I am nothing. I can’t let you do this to anyone else.’ Caius’s voice was empty. ‘Once we have used you and killed your husband—’ Areanel’s eyes darted nervously to Rymedur, who still writhed on the floor in pain. His screams cut through her like shattered glass, and she didn’t know how much more he could take. ‘We will finally be able to rid this world of the others.’

‘Others?’ Areanel’s head snapped to Caius, her voice a rasp—gritty with betrayal. What did he mean? What others? She had not touched that part of her magic since she brought Caius back. It scared her—not because of what she had taken, but because it had fascinated her too much. She didn’t know what she was capable of.

There was nothing behind his cold, colourless eyes as he said, ‘You should not have lived, Nelly. Nor should your husband.’ Twirling the sword in his hands, Caius let his words settle. ‘And least of all…’ Ice froze Areanel’s heart, dropping to the pit of her stomach like a stone thrown in calm waters. ‘Your children.’

‘What did you say?’ Areanel came to an abrupt halt. Her children. He had threatened her children.

How long had Caius felt this numbness that the thought of killing children did not affect him as it should?

Hand curling into a white-knuckled grip around the scythe, her fists shook at her side when that familiar drag, thunk, step echoed on the other side of the cavern. Her brother spoke, wheezing and coughing as he went, but with the command of a born leader. ‘Enough, Caius. Come. We still need her yet.’

Trepidation skittered her skin like spiders. What could they possibly need her for?

He tapped the end of his cane against the floor like some unspoken command. How alike he was to their father. ‘Death is in the past. Death is in the future. The realms will collide. Let us enlighten her, my dear little sister. The light taken and chaos born. Yes, let’s tell her the truth, shall we?’

Areanel did not move. Her body seemed frozen in place. What truth did he have to abate the murderous intentions reeling through her mind? Caius had threatened her children! She would carve his skin from his bones.

Areanel nodded towards Rymedur. ‘Release him first. Please.’ There were deep red claw marks scratching down his neck.

A soundless scream froze in place as his frenzied shadows peeled from his skin, whipping wildly in every direction, looking for the cause of torment.

‘Please,’ she repeated when Silas did not move. ‘I will listen to what you have to say, but release him first.’

‘Not me. Not possible. You know. No. Shadows claw. Shadows take. Shadows devour. I’m not shadows. No, no, no. Areanel knows.’ Silas’s thin fingers gestured to Rymedur, his hair flying around his face as he shook his head.

Areanel flinched, unable to watch as Rymedur’s body spasmed. She flung herself forward, gripping at his shoulders to hold him down, ignoring how his shadows lashed at her skin, no longer recognising her with him in such a state. They whipped her skin raw; it felt like smooth leather whacking her. She ignored it all. It was not his fault.

‘Rymedur!’ A sob caught in her throat when Rymedur’s eyes rolled back into his head. ‘Silas!’ Areanel was frantic, eyes flashing with power, threatening to destroy him if he didn’t stop. ‘Brother, please!’

‘Not possible. Not me,’ Silas repeated. His eyes gleamed with something unknown. Had his illness taken him? Had he really gone stark raving mad? ‘You know. Shadows take. Shadows devour…’

Heart galloping, fear clawed at her chest, and a creeping death skittered along the edges of her skull as she listened to Silas. What had happened to him? The loving, curious brother she had once known stared at her with a twisted smile, madness in his eyes.

Flicking her stare between Silas and Caius, Areanel searched for any recognition, finding none. Caius glared down at her, but made no move to strike. Silas just cackled as the words—ceaseless in their repetition—stumbled out of him like it was something he could not physically stop. ‘Shadows take. Areanel knows. Shadows. Shadows. Shadows.’

Another violent thrash tore through Rymedur’s body, and Areanel’s head snapped back to him. From the edges of the cave, darkness bent towards him like long talons scraping against stone. Helplessness seemed to devour her in its dark hold, and she watched his veins bulge against his skin, his muscles straining through another painful jolt.

Breathing became hard. Areanel cradled his head in her lap, tears blurring her vision. ‘Rymedur,’ she cried, salty tears leaving tracks through the blood splattering her cheeks, and the mixture rolled down her chin before dripping onto Rymedur. Areanel watched as they dropped onto the collar around his throat.

Areanel knows. Silas’s words clanged through her mind. Areanel knows.

It hadn’t just been a mad ramble.

Areanel did know. She knew what this collar was, the power it held.

‘Rymedur.’ Areanel wiped her tears, her tone urgent, penetrating. ‘Rymedur, you need to listen to me.’

How had she missed it? Areanel should have known what the collar was made of the minute she saw it, but she had been too far away. A purple so dark it almost seemed obsidian.

The darkness of the cave and the shadows that whipped around him, ripping into her leathers and scratching her skin, had hidden it.

Her breath shuddered as lightning struck again, illuminating the dark space and the stone encircling Rymedur’s neck. He was using his shadows…

That shouldn’t have been possible!

A horrific sound—bitter and aggrieved—slashed through the mad laughter Silas had fallen into. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be! But it was: Ikarus stone. Its poison was already making its way through Rymedur’s veins—she could feel it now, like it permeated from every pore, oppressive and branding all at once.

How had Silas gotten a hold of it? There was only one that had ever been made—only one that her father had ordered Ivan to make—forged from dragonfire itself. This could not be possible. Silas had no dragon. He had no access to dragonfire, so how?