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Davorin raised his blade again.
“Do you know what it’s like,” I murmured as the peace of darkness threatened to drag me under.Stay.Focus.
“Silas! Lift your sword.Your sword!”
Somewhere in the haze her voice was there, calling to me. Calista Ode. My first friend. My princess. My heart song.
I blinked.Stay. Stay with her.
“Silas!”
I snapped my eyes open as Davorin swung a deep strike. My blade met his. The blow knocked me back; it pressed the edge of my own sword against my chest as he reared over me. With both hands, he shoved against his hilt, trying to dig the edge of my sword into my flesh. His body weight, his strength, left my arms trembling.
“I’ll drain her of her blood,” he hissed close to my face. “Just to make absolute certain every drop of Riot’s bloodline is gone. I’ll do it slowly, until she pleads for death.”
These were no weak threats. Davorin was not a man who killed quickly, he was not a man who let those who wronged him die an honorable death. Should he gain the upper hand, he’d take Calista. Lock her away, drain her of her life. He’d slaughter Ari, claim his daughter and the Raven Queen.
He’d say he would forgive the fae folk of the other realms, but the Alvers, the Night Folk, they’d be left to rot as slaves of his new sea fae, no mistake.
“You won’t be able to alter her fate in the Otherworld, boy.” His teeth gleamed in a sneer.
An eerie hiss fell over the Row, followed by the shrieks of sea fae. A bit chaotic, but voices rose over the battle in fierce panic.
“King’s blood.”
“Been wounded.”
“Move, move, you wretches.”
Their cries and shouts added to the chaos nearby. A few fleeing sea folk stumbled, knocking against Davorin.
“Fools,” he spat and lost his hold on the sword against me. I shoved back, rolling away, and scrambled to my feet. Behind me, the genesis of the commotion was clearly surrounding the boy king.
Erik Bloodsinger wore a vicious smirk, but kept a hand pressed to his side, clutching a gash on his ribs.
Poisonous blood.
His own people fled from him rather than help him. Then again, he didn’t seem surprised. The boy trained his gaze on me, a narrowed expression written on his face. Hand pressed to his ribs, Erik faded into the alleyways of the fortress, never looking away. As if he wanted me to see him. As if he were telling me to get off my ass and take back my chance in this fight.
Bleeding gods, had he cut himself on . . . purpose?
Davorin hissed and cursed as sea fae fled to avoid their own king. I didn’t understand how his blood worked. If they touched it, was it fatal? Did they need to ingest it?
However it killed, the sea folk feared it. And their fear kept the battle lord distracted long enough for me to ready my stance and my sword.
But my blood chilled at Calista’s voice. “Tor! Tor behind you. No!”
She screamed near the edges of Raven Row. Sea fae were rushing toward the shoreline, but from one of the broken canals Harald emerged, eyes on Calista and the pyre fae casting defenses around her.
Torsten had his back turned. Harald raised his blade.
I gained a single, worthless step by the time the bastard rammed his sword through Tor’s spine. Like a coward, he struck from behind and forced the tip of his curved sword through the front of Tor’s chest.
“No!” Calista screamed.
“Tor.” Sol’s pained bellow soaked into the Row. The Sun Prince was locked in a horrified stun as Harald pulled back his blade. Tor stumbled to his knees, blood dripping from his chest and back.
Harald grinned, as though he knew he’d destroyed someone of note, then fell back into the blood-darkened tides of the canal and out of sight.
