Nothing prepares me for the moment the soldier I’m fighting shadoweaves away and I’m left staring at a child. No, a wall of children, their swords held loosely in their hands. This is Nevina’s final shield. To get to the queen, we must sacrifice the pawns. And there are so many pawns. Despite my promise to do the opposite, I hesitate. The young girl in front of me trembles, meets my gaze. Her eyes are clear.
She drops her sword. They all do. And then I see Undaku hugging a young man across the battlefield. Our teams part, and we let the children through. Along the shadow network, I hear Tempest ordering her healers to take them to the medical tents. I feel the collective exhale of held breath. Eloise’s plan worked! The children are ours. The children are free. The young ones clear the way, and then it is just us, the warriors of the resistance, against a small unit of silver coats that stands between us and the doors of Stygarde Castle.
My team engages with the remaining troops.
I shove through the doors.
It has to be me. The resurrected prince returns. The risen dead come to reclaim his stolen life. I charge into the castle foyer and pass under the crest that is not mine. Brahm once told me that the depiction of the red and white stags, their horns entwined, represented how the prosperity of Stygarde and Willowgulch were dependent on each other. Nevina and her father promised peace but inflicted servitude. Today, I am the red stag come to lock horns with the white, not for peace but for vengeance.The foyer is a blank canvas, draped in the colors of Willowgulch. The silver easily stains with the blood and filth that drip off me.
With every step, I leave my mark.
Banias waits for me at the end of the hall, guarding the stairs, dressed in his finery, his sword raised.
“Alone?” I ask. His grip trembles. “I did notice a few of your closest friends sinking into the mud on my way in—partsof your friends.” His throat bobs. “Now, it’s just you and me. Well, until the rest of my army comes through those doors and my mate with her dragon, flanked by the witches of Dimhollow and the parents of all the children you stole.”
The tip of his sword wavers violently.
“I’m tempted to let them have you.”
Banias pales.
I haven’t even reached the man. Our swords have yet to touch. But I see the moment he gives up. Men like him feast on scraps of power and are never brave enough to go without it. He doesn’t beg me for his life or give himself up. He simply swings his sword in the wrong direction and slices through his own neck.
It’s a grisly wound, incomplete in its execution but effective. His blood paints the silver carpet red. The light bleeds from his eyes. He makes no effort to fight the darkness that comes for him.
Thanesia can deal with him now.
My boots splash through the pooling crimson as I step over his corpse, and I trail blood up the white steps to the second level. A servant in the hall points toward my brother’s office. She looks painfully thin and relieved to see me, despite everything. I halt my steps when I notice asunlight cuff around her neck. Rage fills me at the blisters that form along the edge—at the torture this woman has endured. With the tip of Dawnbreaker, I carefully break it off her. Before it even clatters to the ground, she’s shifted.Thank you, I hear along the network of shadows, and then she’s gone.
I continue to my brother’s office. Locked. I break it open with a firm kick, the wood splintering from the force and the door dangling off the frame.
My brother stands alone behind his desk, his crown on his head and a dagger in his hand.
“It was Nevina, brother. She had me under her spell! I had no choice in any of this,” he whines.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Arrest me, then. Let the people have a trial. I will explain everything.”
I take a step toward him. “You want me to take you to the stockade? You want the people to decide what to do with you?”
“Yes, yes, brother.” He points a knuckle at me. “You know I’ve always been a fuckup, prone to the seduction of women and drink. I can’t be held responsible for my actions. I was conned by the dark elves. I’m as much a victim here as you. And the children. I had nothing to do with that. It was all her doing. I was in no position to stop her, Damien. I had no real power.”
“No power as king? That’s an interesting take.” I move another heavy step toward him. “No money in the coffers. No access to soldiers to carry out your will. No ability to walk out the door.”
He scoffs. “Not without losing everything. I had to maintain our family’s power here. It was a long game.”
“Maintain the throne by killing our father.”
He grows more flustered. I slide another step toward him.
“You don’t understand. I had no other choice in the matter. I’m not like you, Damien. I can’t survive outside these walls. I did what I had to do. If Mother were alive, she’d tell you. I’ve always been sickly. I’ve always been easily swayed. I was entrapped, Damien. You must believe me!”
His eyes are wide and watery, his nose and cheeks red with his airless babbling. The crown on his head has slipped to the side, resting askew like the crown of a jester. Stubble fills the grooves of his cheeks. It occurs to me that I have only seen a single servant, and she looked tortured. I suspect that once the children were freed, the young ones used what remained of Eloise’s potion to break the enchantment on the help, and any servants who could leave did. I wonder if this older, frail Brahm is the result of missing a meal or two in these final days. The thought gives me a measure of happiness.
“Good news, Brahm.”
His lips spread into a wobbly smile. “You’ll take me alive, then?”
