Page 108

Again, I shouted, “I am he, and we are we. We. Are. We.”

A wince, one of pain from the heart, burned in the glow of his soul. “If you are the Roark I know, then I never had a brother. Or have you forgotten the night you tried to kill me?”

A hiss slid from between my teeth. I pulled back, frantic, frenzied. Why? Why did the bold soul not trust what could be seen? Sorrowful words he and we spoke that night, pleading, pleading, for a princely soul not to darken. Did it count for nothing?

Fingers in the mists, I tugged at skeins of darkness. “Not all is as it seems, bold prince. Stayed my hand against your soul, did we not?” I wheeled on him, drawing our faces near. “He and we wanted you to live. Pled with my melder to corrupt the bones of the fallen and take a soul to save yours. He and we were cursed to protect the souls of the fallen, forced to vow it, but for a princely soul to remain bright, such a vow did not matter.”

For a moment, the bold prince looked away, torment deepened the shade of his soul. “Perhaps guilt got the better of you to stop the attack, but—”

“Not all is as it seems.” I roared it in his face, tugging at the bonds. “What was no longer is. Bonds do not remain save to my melder.”

“Bonds.” He studied the ropes of gold. “Are you telling me these are chains?”

“Ah, but these chains are made willingly now, bold prince. Once these were not so willing for he and we. Bonds forced our hand.” I knocked my closed fist against the side of my cowl. “Understand?”

“Are you saying you didn’t have a choice?”

Teeth clacked. “Yes. Old bonds forced actions. Actions which might not have been done, like attack a princely soul, had the choices of he and we been free.”

“Why not tell me the truth about…this curse? I would’ve helped you.”

I curled my lip. “Be the bold prince, but do not be the fool.”

“Kiss my ass, you sod.” The princely soul stiffened, bold as always. “It’s disorienting to face you as…the assassin who has attacked my folk time and again. And through it all, you were there. My only true friend, my brother, and you shattered it all.”

I had no time to soothe royal feelings. “To get my melder.”

“Yes. She spoke the same, yet you did not kill her either. Some assassin you are.”

I plucked the burning web of my bond. “She has always been mine, bold prince. For my melder did I become he and we.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Does not matter.” I stepped nearer. “My melder brightens the night, holds my soul, and holds the heart of he. She lives above all. Never will my melder be harmed from these hands.”

“Why would I ever believe a word you say again?”

“Ah, but you already do, bold prince.” I plucked the thin strand of silver between us with the black tip of a fingernail from beneath the cloak of mists. “Or this would not be.”

Deep breaths rose in the princely soul’s chest. “What is it? Get it off.”

A laugh, deep and rough, rolled from my throat. I strummed the fragile thread again. “Brothers once. Not of blood, but of bond. You feel the truth. Will you be the fool or be the bold?”

It took a moment, but soon enough the prince reached out a hand and touched the thread between us.

“Why command Lyra to kill my father?”

I bared my teeth. “Thief King did not fall by my melder’s hand.”

“You hated him.”

“To steal the bones of the fallen, I would take one to replace it. Forced chains were made tighter by the actions of the Thief King. But blood did not spill from the word of he and we.”

“Who, then? I saw his melded bones, Roark. I saw him.”

“Not all is as it seems. Truths must be told if the bold prince will be wise enough to hear them.”

He said nothing.