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Winded, I curled on the floor and sucked in air. My eyes watered from the pain.
A feral snarl tore from Wendel’s throat. “No.”
He hurled a chair at a window. Shattered glass tinkled on the ground. Wind whirled inside the tower and all the candles in the lanterns spluttered out. Darkness flooded the room, brightened only by Chun Yi’s burning.
The Grandmaster stood in the center of the room. He held the sword like a firebrand. “Why didn’t you think of that sooner? Losing your touch?”
Wisely, Wendel kept quiet.
I crawled to my feet and clutched my aching ribs. Through the broken window, the sound of crows swelled. They flew against the moonlit clouds. Black birds swirled around the tower like ink circling a drain.
“I want my dagger back.” The Grandmaster slid his foot forward. “It isn’t worth as much to me as you, Wendel, but it will have to be my consolation prize.”
I backed into a lantern. Brass. I tested its weight.
Too focused on Wendel, the Grandmaster missed the lantern arcing through the air. I hit him in the skull with the sickeninggong of metal against bone. He staggered forward and drove the sword into the carpet to keep himself from falling. Triumph surged through me, and I hefted the lantern to smash him harder.
The Grandmaster whirled with blinding reflexes.
He dodged the lantern and twisted my wrist, hard enough that pain shot through my bones. I fell so he wouldn’t break my arm. The Grandmaster hurled the lantern through a window, the glass chiming as it broke.
Wendel lunged to stab him in the back. The Grandmaster twisted, taking the blade in his shoulder instead, and dragged the dagger with him. With a sharp jerk, he yanked the weapon from Wendel’s hand.
The Grandmaster had disarmed us both.
“Don’t hurt her.” Wendel reached out to me. He was shaking, his own blood turning his spit pink as he spoke. “Torture me, kill me, take me back for your sick games. I don’t care what you do to me, just let her go.”
“You betrayed me.” The Grandmaster’s eyes burned with fury. “I took you under my wing. Fed you, sheltered you, taught you, when your own family had abandoned you. Do you know who you were before me?”
Wendel’s face twisted. “What?”
“Nothing. I shaped you into the Prince of the Undying.”
“You think you saved me?” Wendel whispered.
“And yet you remain ungrateful.”
Something shattered in Wendel’s eyes.
He dove to the ground and rolled through the fragments of glass. He skidded under the sword, flipped to his feet, and yanked the black dagger from the Grandmaster’s back. With a vicious grin, the Grandmaster counterattacked.
Wendel blocked the sword with his dagger. The Grandmaster feinted left, lunged right, and torqued Wendel’s wrist.
They struggled for control of the dagger.
The blade sank into Wendel’s heart.
Wendel staggered back, his lips parted, his hands finding the dagger between his ribs. He wrenched it out and stared at the bloody steel like he couldn’t believe he had been mortally stabbed by his own blade.
Wendel coughed. “What?—?”
He didn’t seem to think he was dying.
51
Icouldn’t find the air to scream. I stood paralyzed.
The Grandmaster pried the black dagger from Wendel’s fingers, then grabbed the lapels of his coat to keep him from falling. A river of blood poured from the wound between Wendel’s ribs. Too much blood loss to survive.
