“Won’t I?” says Seth, twisting the knife in his fingers. “I think I would. I could take his hand like I did to your friend. But would that frighten you enough?” Seth paces, looking for a way past me. “Or would I need to cut his throat? Do you think I won’t do it?”
“It won’t work. Listen to me. Please.”
Seth shifts the knife in my direction. “Then youdoknow how it works. You lied to me before. Tell me now, and tell me quickly, and maybe I’ll let him live.”
I look at Taran in a panic. This piece of information is our only leverage, but if I withhold it, Seth might kill Taran right here. Or he may give us over to Adria, and then we’re as good as dead anyway.
“It’s Ronan,” I say finally. “I can only use the shadow tendrils when Ronan is nearby.”
Seth laughs, patting his legs with his hands. “You expect me to believe that? Oh come on, Sylvie. You can do better than that. You think I’ll let Ronan live because of your special magic connection?”
“I’m serious. I didn’t realize it at first, but Ronan has to be close for me to be able to use that part of my power.” And for me to use part of his—to feel Ronan’s own feelings, although I don’t share that knowledge with my brother. “I’m not sure exactly how close. A hundred feet or so, maybe. Our magic works differently when we’re together.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Taran’s hands twitch. He’s concealing something, but it isn’t the dagger we stole from Seth’s desk.
It’s a shard of ice.
“Please, Seth. Get me back to him, and I’ll use my magic to stop Adria. You’ve seen what it can do. We want the same thing. If you let her take me, you’ll never be free of her. Think of what she’ll be like on the throne. What she’ll demand of you. If you let her kill me, she’ll leave you in charge of Nithyria on your own.”
“Hmm,” says Seth, tilting the dagger to the side. “You see, you say you need Ronan, but you haven’t really tested it.”
Suddenly, he reaches forward and yanks my chain, flinging me to my knees. Then he grabs Taran by the shoulders, holding the dagger’s blade to his neck. “Try and stop me,” says Seth through gritted teeth.
I do. I reach out and try to force the shadows out of me, but they just won’t come.
But my regular shadows do. I lower the entire tent into darkness, extinguishing the candles and leaving both Taran and Seth blind.
“Fuck!” says Seth, moving out of the way just as Taran’s icicle grazes his leg. He tries to ignite a flame on his fingertip, but it barely sparks.
Taran pulls another icicle from the air. His body tenses—he’s tracking Seth by sound.
“Godsdammit. ‘I have it completely under control,’ he says. ‘No need to come check,’” comes a voice from the tent flap.
Adria.
Our older sister twists her wrist and ignites a flame, illuminating her face in long, flickering shadows as I fight to extinguish it. The shadows settle into the faint lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes, and with her blonde hair pulled back, she looks so much like Father that I almost lose my grip on my magic in surprise.
She flicks her wrist again, and another flame ignites. “I’ve been fighting all day with barely any magic required. Are we going to keep wasting our time with this nonsense, or are you going to let me see you before I burn this tent to the ground?”
“Adria, I told you, these are my prisoners—”
“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you,” she says, using her flame to walk towards Seth. Behind him, Taran prepares the ice shard.
I raise the shadow to let Taran see his target. I had few qualms about Taran taking out Seth.
I have none about him taking out Adria.
But she’s faster than him. Without warning, Adria tosses her flame at the ice, shattering it in a spray of steam and sleet. Taran backs away from the sudden explosion, and this time, he doesn’t create another icicle.
Against two fire-born and in chains, there’s little we can do.
Adria gives Seth one of her most scathing looks. It’s a look I know well. “You didn’t even bother to drain his magic?”
“I was getting around to it—”
“Idiot. What are these bandages? Did you even torture him for information?”
Seth pulls himself up and tries to look somewhat intimidating, but it’s minimally effective. He’s taller and larger than Adria, but the amount of visible muscle on them is roughly equal. And I know for a fact she can still best him in a fight. “He can hardly give us much information if he dies of a festering wound. Like I said, I was getting around to it. I’ve been busy. You wanted the camp moved, remember?”
