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Her gaze condemned Cassia. “How could you do this to me?”
“I’m so sorry,” Cassia whispered.
“I don’t want your apologies. I want my life.” Miranda raised her voice. “Kallikrates! I accept your bargain!”
The magic that descended upon the room made Cassia stagger and fall to her knees. The others around her went still. Every person in the room opened their mouths and spoke with the same man’s voice. “Miranda. Welcome to my game board. We will accomplish great things together, you and I.”
The mage of Chera flicked open the cage and set the crow free. It flew to Miranda, and she held it against her chest. The mage walked forward, extending a shrouded hand to stroke Miranda’s face.
“Now I will make you mine,” the Collector said.
As Miranda fell, the Collector caught her against him. He held his hand above her mouth and made a beckoning motion. Her head fell back, and her lips parted.
A long sigh escaped her, and with it, her magic. The Collector held her to his breast as a shudder went through her. The crow struggled in her embrace, even as her power fluttered against the Collector’s grasp. But he drew it into himself on an inexorable current. That pull seemed to scream through the entire room, and Cassia’s vision began to darken.
But she saw Miranda lift her head. She looked at Cassia with a gaze not her own. The Collector’s voice came from Miranda’s mouth. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Cassia.”
Cassia could no longer feel Miranda’s emotions in the Blood Union.
Although everything within her recoiled, she pushed her senses open, tapping into the new and powerful awareness flowing through her with Lio’s blood. She reached for Miranda.
“Don’t look,” Lio warned her. “I’ve seen inside him. It’s not—”
But Cassia looked. Miranda was a void. All Cassia could sense within her friend was him. Kallikrates felt like the moment of death, everlasting.
Lio caught her as she slipped into unconsciousness. His helpless rage roared through their Blood Union. He could not stop what was to come.
When Cassia surfaced, she was lying in her bed at Paradum. Knight was nowhere to be found. But Lio was holding her hand.
“I thought I had escaped this place,” she said.
“You have,” Lio replied. “This is only a memory. You’re safe in our residence with me.”
She tightened her hold on his hand. “I think I know what’s about to happen. What he did to me.”
When Lio didn’t answer, she looked at him.
Tears slid down his cheeks. “I don’t want you to have to go through this.”
Miranda approached the bed, the stone dagger in her hand. She now wore a necromancer’s robe, her hair long and unbound. She looked so young and vulnerable.
Until the Collector spoke through her. “You now face the most important decision of your existence, Cassia. You see, I am the reason you exist, and one day, I will be the reason you die. Unless you choose to change your fate tonight.”
Betraying no fear, Cassia put on the stony expression she always showed the king. She asked the question that might give her leverage. “What do you want?”
“You,” he said simply. “You are already mine. I hold you in the palm of my hand. I am called the Collector for a reason. But you have great potential. You could be more to me than a tool in my collection, if you wish.”
“I’m listening.”
“Your father is not the most powerful being in your world, Cassia. I am. And I can make you more powerful than the king, as well.”
Cassia resisted the urge to wet her dry lips. “What are you?”
“Your people would call me a necromancer,” he answered, “but my colleagues and I are more than that. We have existed since before any of the kings or mages who believe they rule this world. I am one of the six Old Masters, known as the Master of Dreams. I can destroy your dreams—or make them come true.”
“I only want to disappear into the Temple of Kyria and stay out of the king’s way. What do you want in exchange for making him forget about me?”
“That is the trouble, my dear. He has let you believe you are useless and unwanted, when in fact, you are required. We made you to our specifications. What I want from you is your magic.”
