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Gabriel spots him immediately and steps out of the line of soldiers.

“Rook! Stop!” I yell, but he’s focused now and his revenge is festering like a broken wound.

The axe comes free of whatever hidden magic he used. The hilt is firmly in both hands and he raises it over his head.

As I move, the crowd watches me and their confusion quickly turns sharp.

Rook braces his stance and tosses the axe forward, right at Blue.

“No!” I raise my hand and everything in my body says to stop it.

Stop.

STOP!

Wind gusts through the square. The crowd exclaims, shielding their eyes from the sudden swirl of dust and debris.

The wind hits the axe and sends it sailing sideways.

A gasp runs through the crowd.

And the axe hits a new target.

Gabriel.

Horror washes through me.

“Gabriel!” Tin shoves me aside. He races up the steps and catches his little brother as his knees buckle and he tips forward. “Gabriel!”

Blood gushes from the wound.

The blade has hit him in the chest, cutting him open from shoulder to sternum.

He’s gasping for air, wet, short little bursts, as he sinks into his brother’s arms.

I’m numb all over.

The wind shifts directions, and the crowd starts shouting now, both from the carnage and the out-of-control magic.

People are pushing, shoving, tripping over one another.

I slip through them and hurry up the steps and when I approach, I see that a lion is now in Tin’s grip.

“What … what is happening?” I ask.

Rook takes on the extra weight of the massive animal. “He turns into a lion when he’s afraid.”

My eyes are burning, my chin trembling. I can’t … I can’t …

I did this.

“Let me take us somewhere,” Rook says to Tin and when Tin doesn’t respond, he adds, “Please, Silas.”

I’ve never heard Rook so desperate. I’ve never seen him so distraught.

If everything before now was a performance, the mask has finally come off.

“Can you save him?” Tin asks.