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“What do you mean?”
Her gaze flickered toward Zehr. “He’s not controlling them anymore.”
In my dream… or whatever it had been… Zehr had said he had to stop the Scourge.
Zehr drove me mad. But I needed him, and so did they. “The Scourge need a king.”
“They don’t want one anymore,” she said grimly. “They fear him, but they also hate him for caging them.”
“And now their fear is weakening,” I filled in the gaps. “Because Zehr is dying.”
“You’re going to save him, aren’t you?” she demanded. “Without a ruler, it’s all… over.” She stared out the window. “Kessily knows how to control them.”
Kessily had been watching Zehr, his right hand, and now she had betrayed him.
I hated Zehr, but I needed him alive.
And in the back of my mind, a contented whisper.You want to hate me, but you can’t.
I startled, and Pedra’s eyes went wide, looking at me as if I’d lost my mind. She must feel uncertain now about the fact we were all tied together, and I was her best chance to staying alive.
“I’m going to keep him alive,” I said. “I’m going to keep all of us alive.”
Could Zehr talk to me when he was unconscious?
I couldn’t make sense of what the marks were doing to all of us. Were we all tied together now? Dragons, wolves, even the Scourge king?
Either way, now I was sure my dreams were real. Caldren had been hurt by that goddamned assassin. I’d barely kept Caldren and Jaik alive. And Zehr had been by my side when my magic exploded.
And it was time for me to put a stop to it. I had to face Kallus and get his Scourge stone.
And I had to get the artifacts to raise my mother’s ghost and find out what else Kallus was up to.
But I didn’t dare face Kallus alone.
It would be easier if I had Ebba on my side instead of threatening Caldren.
That was definitely a thought that would’ve had Damyn, Jaik, and Lynx—or all three—making all kinds of threats. But they weren’t here. I had to protect Zehr for the sake of our kingdom, and I had to protect Caldren for the sake of my own heart.
As I went to lift Zehr, sliding my arm under his shoulders, the mark on his throat burned bright. His memories rippled like shadows in my mind.
“Father, don’t leave me here.”
“I have to work to do for Lysander, son.”
And then…
The sight of his father, aged so much Zehr could barely stand to look at him, worn and tattered by the magic. Blood was streaked beneath his eyes as he faced Zehr. “The curse is too much for me to carry. But Zehr, you can…”
And Zehr had wondered if his father believed in him… or was just desperate to escape.
Zehr’s head lolled against my shoulder. My knees buckled under his lean muscular weight, but I managed to get him up. He looked boyish, innocent, when he was asleep, without that spark of danger and spite in his black eyes. He looked like the boy he’d been before our fathers arrogantly altered the magic of the isle.
Feet shuffled in the hallway—a lot of them, distant now but coming closer.
“Go,” Pedra said to me urgently. “I’ll find my way out. Kessily won’t find me here.”
“No,” I shook my head. “You need to come with me.”
