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“Stay alive!” she shouted over her shoulder, then sped away after Asger.
Already Cyland fought back-to-back with Hugo. Both Soturi, both cutting at the creatures. Hugo summoned iron from the soil, coiling makeshift shackles around the slender legs of the Immorti, giving Cy time to cut off their heads.
I cupped behind Adira’s head, drawing her close. “I must get to Destin.”
She nodded, eyes fierce. “Go. We will cover you.”
Moments could shift, life could tilt, we knew better than anyone. I took a long enough moment to whisper in her ear, “My heart is burned with your name.”
“My soul is owned by you,” she returned. Then she turned and ran into the fray beside Hugo and Cy.
Adira was a sight. Memories, magic, all of it restored, she was the blood mage Soturi I remembered. One hand on her blade, the other palm up, drawing out the corrupted blood from the Immorti until they withered into brittle, dry bone dust.
I ran for the palace. A creature met me at the gate, teeth snapping. I swung my arm over my head and let a dagger fly. It pierced the Immorti in the open mouth. Another rose in its place and swiped one of its clawed fingers. I slid down in the dirt, rising at its back. Before it spun around, blade still lodged in its open mouth, I rammed my short blade down through the center of its skull.
Frenzy within the palace gates spread like a plague. Village folk scrambled, snatching their young ones from cottages as Immorti spilled in without thought.
I jumped over a body on the ground. Soturi were rising, we would stand together and defeat this. The trouble with Immorti is they were managed through dark spells, through death manipulation.
Death roused them, and death would end them.
Dark eyes met mine from the tower steps. Once eyes that laughed and taunted me as an older brother would, now looked at me like I was nothing more than a flea on his neck.
It is not what it seems. Words from the dream of my sister rattled in my mind. Nothing had been what it seemed. Destin used to be my brother, and he’d used that to craft a new truth, he’d cast darkness across our world until nothing remained but lies and false beliefs.
“Destin!” I shouted. “You shame her.”
“I will have her,” he hissed back, laughing with a bit of mania. “I will not fail her now.”
From inside his tunic, he removed a gold chain. My heart stuttered.
Arabeth’s weakened heartstone. He’d had it all along.
“Why would you take it, you bastard? You’ve left your wife to suffer.”
“I love you, Kagesh, I do. But Ineedher. I’ll restore her soul,” he spat. “You merely need to give up yours so she can return.”
He took the stairs two at a time and met me on level ground. Blades clashed overhead. Destin dragged his fingers over my chest. The first contact pulsed a shock of painful magic—dark and sharp.
I reeled back. Across my palms, the same cursed veins flashed, then faded again.
“I need to take you,” Destin said, and for the first time I almost believed he wished there might be another way. His eyes were cruel—corrupted with darkness—but there had to be bits of his good heart left.
“This is not what Beth would want.” I sliced my blade, forcing him to stumble back. “I’m sorry she died, but if you kill those she loves to bring her back, you know she will despise you.”
Destin hesitated. “She will see why it had to be done.”
He’d slipped into madness. Somewhere in his despair, in his hunt to revive the soul of my sister, the man I’d once admired as a young boy had died.
I took the first step, but Destin matched my pace. Our blades clanged with such a force it made my sword slip through my fingers and fall to the ground. Destin reeled around, gasping. I cut my palm over my body, a whisk of forceful magic dug into the bones on his wrist. He roared a curse when the bones shattered and his blade clattered next to mine.
Eyes rimmed in red, teeth bared, Destin took his arms wide, hardly coddling his shattered wrist, and caught me around the waist. I coughed when the stones of the courtyard struck my back. Sharp, icy blasts of his cruel, twisted magic dug into my skull.
“One soul must fade, Kagesh,” he gritted out. “A soul of the same bloodline must darken for her to rise. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Dots of night speckled the corner of my gaze. Thoughts raced and I could not draw them back enough to use my own power against him. No blade, no magic, all I could do was shove back. All I could do was hope I could get a sure enough grip to buck himoff.
The sound of steel cutting into leather brought another cry of pain. Destin rolled off me, coughing and spluttering. I hurried to my feet, the retreat of dark magic like tiny pricks of needles across my skull.
