Page 112 of Cursebreaker

Umiko brings word that Mother’s forces secured the city of Jade without resistance. The soldiers scattered across the kingdom hardly put up a fight. By the time we make our approach to Castle Grim, the people of the Eerie celebrate their liberation.

And it feels too easy.

A bridge of gray stone is all that remains between our army and whatever waits for us inside Castle Grim.

Titus stands to my right, but today, he isn’t dressed as Captain Shade.

Today, he is Titus Anteres, rightful king of the Eerie, come to reclaim his throne.

My heart thunders in my chest as I survey the empty battlements, where skulls still line the dark stone walls. The castle is unnervingly quiet; there are no signs of life, much less an army. An uneasy feeling crawls up my spine, but I stand tall, my chin held high, ready to give the call to arms.

I glance at Titus. His jaw ticks.

“It’s a trick,” he says, his black gloves tightening around the hilt of his blade. “It has to be.”

There’s a low groan as the outer gates swing open, and a lone figure in a sweeping black cloak steps out onto the bridge, dragging someone behind him by their tangled blond hair.

Will stalks toward us at a leisurely pace, a trail of crimson splattering the stones with every step. Blood covers him from head to toe, as if he’d bathed in it.

He stops thirty feet from where we stand, depositing Calantha onto the ground beside him. She moves, as if trying to crawl away, but he throws out a hand, seizing control of her bones, twisting them at unnatural angles.

The cruel slant of Will’s lips chills my blood. He uses his power to drag Calantha, forcing her to kneel in front of him, facing Titus and me. Will’s eyes sparkle with amusement as Calantha tries to speak, but his bonewielding magic forces her mouth shut.

“King Titus Anteres,” Will purrs, his voice carrying over the distance with supernatural ease. “I made you a promise once.” Even from this distance, I know the instant he sees the pearl earrings glinting in the sunlight—see his expression turn murderous, even though his smile never slips, his dimple still on full display. “The first time she ever hurt you. Surely you remember?”

I glance at Titus, the question already poised on my tongue. But I don’t need to ask. Because in one swift movement, almost too fast for my eyes to detect, Will makes good on his promise.

I flinch at the violent crack, like the resounding pop of cannon fire, as Calantha’s neck snaps and she falls forward onto the bloody cobblestones.

But Will didn’t just break her neck. He shattered every bone in her body.

Titus lurches toward Will, swaying in disbelief, his lips parting on a shaky breath.

Will’s glowing red eyes darken. Blood drips from the tips of his dark hair, his chin, his hands. When he smiles, his teeth are a flash of white cutting through the scarlet, and for just an instant, his face reminds me of Captain Shade’s grinning skeletal mask.

In the blink of an eye, he vanishes in a plume of swirling black shadows.

For a long moment, Titus doesn’t move. He stares at Calantha’s corpse, his pulse hammering at his throat, eyes wide.

“The Sword,” I finally say, my voice hoarse.

The mention of the Relic sends us both charging forward toward the gates of Castle Grim. The bridge shakes as our people storm the palace behind us, but when we reach the outer court, we’re not met with a horde of Underlings or Calantha’s Bloodknights.

Consider this an engagement gift.

The carnage is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. Blood coats the stone walls in layers, as if battered by scarlet waves. Limbs litter the steps that lead to the main entrance of the palace; mutilated bodies lie in pools of crimson. He killed them all—nobles, Bloodknights—as if he took his time. As if he ensured that each death brought as much suffering as he could inflict.

Will knew what these people did to Titus—the torture he endured, the way they fed on his blood—and though Calantha and these nobles sided with Morana and the Underlings, Will killed them all.

But why? Why go against Morana’s wishes? Why hand Morana’s stronghold in the Eerie—her seat on the entire continent of the Tamed Lands—over without a fight?

Henry’s words repeat in my mind. My brother is still in there, somewhere.

And when I glance at Titus—see the emotions warring in his eyes, glowing with a soft golden light—I know he must be thinking the same thing.

Is Will trying to send us a message?

Our soldiers skid to a halt behind us, the cry of battle dropping off into stunned silence.