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“Stars above.” His bewilderment quickly changed to determination. “The ritual. We have to finish it now. Does the bowl still hold our blood? Bring it out. And the cloth and the knife. Put everything back the way it was.”
“But you said I shouldn’t—?” I protested.
“Forget what I said. I think we can agree that things have changed since this afternoon.”
The stones were rearranged into the triangle, and Mother, Simon, and Kellan took their places at each point, though this time Simon’s arm was draped across Onal’s bony shoulder for support.
“Right where you left off,” Simon prodded.
“No,” I said strongly. “I’ve already told you: I don’t want this. I refuse. No one else is going to suffer in my place.”
“Aurelia.” Kellan opened my fingers and closed them around the hilt of the knife. “Do it. You have to do it.” He held my gaze and I felt my breath catch.
“No, Kellan. I don’t want—?”
But even as I spoke he forced the knife in my hand down against his own palm. Through gritted teeth he said, “My blood, freely given.”
“Quickly now!” Mother commanded. “Take the bowl to the cloth.”
Stunned into submission, I stepped into the very center of the triangle.
“Three drops,” Simon said. “Repeat after me. ‘Sanguine nata, vita et morte.’?”
One drop fell from the iron bowl and spread on the white fabric. “Sanguine nata, vita et morte.”
“Again.”
Another drop. “Sanguine nata, vita et morte.”
“Again!”
The last drop. “Sanguine nata, vita et morte.”
“Tertio modo ut ab uno vitae. Ligat sanguinem, sanguinem, facere,” said Simon. “Three lives now tied to one. Bound by blood, by blood undone.”
The stones flared up once more, and then all went quiet.
* * *
We laid the remnants of the spell away quietly; no one dared to interrupt the silence until the door to the next room creaked open and Conrad’s small face peeked out from behind it. “Mama, I can’t sleep. There are too many lights.”
Mother went to him, placing her hands soothingly on his cheeks. “What lights, my dear?”
“The ones outside. They keep getting brighter.”
She moved past him to the window. Beyond the glass, hundreds of glowing orbs were bobbing in the blackness, moving past the castle gate and across the grounds. Her hand moved to her mouth.
“Tribunal.” Onal’s voice was cold. “They’re marching on the castle.”
“They wouldn’t,” Mother said.
“They are.”
A heavy knock came from the other room. Toris’s voice was muffled through the thick wood. “Genevieve! My queen—?they’re coming.”
Kellan threw the door open, and Toris rushed inside. Breathlessly, he said again, “They’re coming. Not just for Aurelia. They’re going to overtake the castle. Everything.”
“A coup?” Kellan’s hand was on his sword.
