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Get your mother out. Free Neleda. Right now.
First I see surprise in her wide green eyes, then she inclines her head once, discreetly.
I see the man at her side catch our exchange and frowns, but I don’t have time to account for it. And if I know one thing, it’s that Helyn can take care of herself.
My hand flashes forward and grasps my brother’s throat before unleashing the power of my crown, the power of my kingdom, and the will of the ruling god of shade, as only a king could.
That’s when the screaming starts.
* * *
I watch as Zale summons a blinding light, feeling the bite of coldness, the fury of gods, and the darkness of night in one single spell. His brother screams and thrashes against the hold.
Neleda.
Zale’s instructions were clear, and for once, I’m not going question them.
I rise to my feet, only to find Khel’s blade pointing at me again. “Make him stop. Tell him to stop!”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so panicked. I never thought I’d enjoy it so much, but then again, I also didn’t think he was such a cunt.
Glad to have packed my dagger, I draw it out of the only place I could fit it in this sundress: my boots. I wouldn’t have risked it while Khel was composed—he’s far more proficient than I with a blade—but right now, he’s terrified and distracted. I strike without hesitation, hitting right over his ribs, and watch as surprise crosses his face.
He’s the first man I killed, and I’m surprised to not feel much of anything. His betrayal erases any sort of guilt.
Zale’s urging was rather pressing, and I don’t have time to waste on traitors, so I rush to my mother, cutting the bonds at her back with my bloody dagger.
What was it the old king told me in the heart of the maze?Take the dagger. It'll serve you better than any crown.
As I free my mother, I know without a doubt that smug Zale lookalike knew exactly what was going to happen today. It would have been kind if he’d given more details.
“We have to get out right now,” I tell her, taking her hand and dragging her to the closest door. To my distress, it leads to a bathroom, not an exit.
Behind me the light brightens impossibly, and the cold piercing power driving it explodes.
On impulse, I close the door.
Ice pierces my skin, my entire body and my heart, colder than anything I’ve known, colder than the air of Ravelyn.
I should have died on spot.
Failing death, I should be suffering, on the floor, trembling and begging for mercy.
Against all logic, I’m not.
I turn to face Zale just in time to see his brother’s iced-over blue-white figure crackle and shatter in shards of ice.
The others, the coldbloods, shiver and tremble, their skin not pale, but white as snow.
The tall man who’d been the closest yells in horror. “My eyes! My eyes.”
And in the middle of the room, Zale stands, surrounded by mists in shades of black and green, glowing in the heart of the darkness.
The magiks he summons dissipates when he steps toward the blinded coldblood.
“Be glad I only took your eyes, Harl. Your treachery cost a hundred lives, including that of my sister. That you did not intend to harm them is the only reason why you retain your miserable life. You are hereby stripped of all rank and titles, and your land will pass on to your heir.”
“Pity, my lord! I have a family.”
