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A tear came to her eye despite herself. They were both going to live. Her mother had saved them from that fate, but a new one loomed overhead. Fordham would get new magic at an unknowable cost.
“Ready?” Keres asked. “We don’t have much time.”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “Let’s begin.”
Keres offered her hand, and this time, Kerrigan could do nothing but oblige her. A bolt of recognition threaded through her at the first touch. From her fingertips all the way to her toes. As if her entire body remembered precisely who this woman was and how much power thrummed through her.
But it was Keres who drew the crowd’s attention.
She gasped.
Just loud enough to be audible beyond their ears. Enough for the entire audience to go silent in shock. Had she hurt the Doma? What could even cause a Doma to make that sound in the first place?
“What did they do to you?” Keres asked.
Kerrigan opened and closed her mouth. Could Keres feel the absence in Kerrigan’s magic? Did she know what that meant?
Keres leaned forward slightly at the waist. Her eyes flickered to Kerrigan’s, and those hazel eyes suddenly matched Kerrigan’s perfectly. They were as green as she had ever seen them. A jolt went through her, and suddenly, she was in another arena. The day the Red Masks had unmasked themselves before the entire city of Kinkadia. Kerrigan was on her knees before Bastian, a circle of thirteen closed around her. Her father lay nearby, broken and bruised. Kerrigan stared up at her mentor, facing the end. Fordham had been stabbed somewhere beyond her vision. She had no idea of his outcome. Only that she had lost.
Bastian had the Ring of Endings. Isa was at his side. He’d taken the council. And now, he was going to kill her.
But instead, they performed dark magic. Her own magic came hurtling out of her, disappearing like sand through a sieve. And after the last drop left her body—her crux bond with Tieran destroyed, her mating bond with Fordham shattered—did they finally release her to collapse into the sand.
No options. No chance of survival. Nothing but her own ingenuity.
She’d gotten out. Fordham had taken them away. They’d fallen through a portal to Domara. She’d awoken again on the grass in that strange world right before Flavia found her.
Keres blinked, and her eyes returned to their natural hazel. Gone was her mask of reserve. Her eyes were windows to her fury. Her jaw clenched. Her body tense, like a tiger ready to spring. She looked furious, and it was terrifying.
“They dare,” she hissed.
Kerrigan shivered at the words. Her mother had just … seen what Kerrigan had seen. Keres knew what had happened with Kerrigan’s magic. It was as if she had been there, watching all along.
“Yes,” Kerrigan told her.
Keres nodded once. That anger only amplifying as she lifted Kerrigan’s hand high for the audience to see. “Daughter of the conquered!”
The crowd cheered. The roar so loud that it was as if no one had any recollection of the strange pause that had happened. Perhaps this was part of her mother’s magic. Kerrigan certainly had nothing so convenient.
Keres crossed Kerrigan’s arms at the wrists and lifted where they joined to her forehead. A ball of golden light appeared in Keres’s hand. She spoke some words that Kerrigan had never heard before, and the balls jumped into Kerrigan’s hands. The wind kicked up. Lights flashed in the sky. Everyone seemed to hold their breath.
But Kerrigan felt none of this. The balls of light weren’t her own magic. If that was what Keres was going for, it wasn’t working. It was all a display. Finally, Keres threw Kerrigan’s arms down. The two balls exploded on the sandy floor, kicking up debris all over the arena.
She leaned forward then. “Pretend to clear the arena.”
Kerrigan reached for her magic, hoping that it would come back again. But it remained hollow and empty within her chest. Still, she went through the moves, flinging her arms in a wide arc. The sand settled. Every particle stilling at the same precise moment. When she let her hands drop, they all fell effortlessly back into the arena floor. This time, when the crowd went wild, she didn’t even hear it. She hadn’t done any of it. That had all been her mother’s doing. A fact she could never tell anyone.
Her mother nodded at her once. Their secret forged in that moment.
Then, Keres turned to Fordham. She lifted his hand and declared, “The king of Alfheim.”
She repeated the process, taking his hands and connecting with him. The collar at his throat glowed bright gold. Keres touched it gently with her fingers, and it disintegrated, as if it had never been.
Fordham choked when it was gone. Shadows coming to his immediate command.
“Now, now,” Keres said, “let’s finish this then?”
