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“Your word?”
“You have it. I swear, Razak, you’ll live.”
Razak swallowed and looked at each of us in turn, perhaps finally understanding his place. “Bring the crowns together, as you have here, but with someone from each court alongside them, together and in agreement. Once you have that, the crowns, and their power, will shatter. Dallin made the courts to oppose each other—we were each made to forever be opposites—thus the crowns would never meet and the power would remain subdued. Justice learned of his ways and imprisoned him, all the courts came together to see it done, and that was how it’s been, until my father learned of the truth, and so did I. The crowns and the courts must be in alignment, or nothing changes. Believe me or not, that is the truth, and now you owe me—”
Draven swooped in, hauled Razak to his feet, and pressed his blade to his throat. “Nobody believes a word of this kareel-shit. Take me to my boy.”
“Yes, yes.” Razak panted. “The river— I’ll take you there. Arin, your word, remember? Call Draven off.” His single-eyed glare fixed on Arin, pleading with him to keep Draven controlled. “You will not go back on your word. I am to live. We agreed. You and I.”
Arin snarled. “I won’t forget.”
I handed Arin his crown. “You’d better take it. We can’t leave the four crowns here. It’s too dangerous.”
He propped the crown lopsided on his head. “Let’s be done with this.”
Draven supported Razak’s limping, bleeding body and led the way from the chamber. I followed. Blood soaked Razak’s back from Draven’s earlier attack by the hanging tree. With any luck, he’d die slowly, in agony. Arin had vowed not to kill Razak, but I hadn’t. And my brother was right about me, I was a killer.
It was almost over. Razak sensed it. So did I. The final act was here, playing out around us.
He knew I’d stop at nothing to see him dead.
He’d have one trick left to play; he always did. Whatever it was, I’d be ready.
CHAPTER54
Arin
We passedbeneath the foyer’s dramatic chandelier and pushed through the main doors onto the tower’s steps. And stopped.
People filled the streets, and all of them stood in silence, their faces tipped up, wet with rain. Hundreds of them, all dressed in greys and blacks. Pain’s people.
Lark slowed beside me. “They came…” Was this his doing?
“What is this?” Razak snarled.
“They came,” Lark said again with a smile. “They heard my music, and they came.”
“All of you!” Razak boomed. “Traitors! He’s not your prince—I am!” He shoved from Draven’s hold, taking advantage of Draven’s surprise, and with rain mixing with the blood on his face, he raised his hands. “All traitors must be punished.”
“Stop him.” Lark dashed toward Razak. Draven lunged for him too.
Razak’s snarl made it clear, it was all or nothing.
But he couldn’t control the power, he’d said as much.
He raised both hands to the rain. Lightning forked, and a blast of chaotic, heart-rending power rolled outward, slamming into Lark first, then Draven. I only knew I’d been struck when I blinked at the wet marble steps beneath my hands, my thoughts silent and heart hollow. Something terrible had happened, but I didn’t know or care why. There was… nothing in me. I was empty. Cold. Like stone.
The vicious wave wasn’t done. Its ripples went on, diving deeper and deeper, washing more and more warmth away.
I lifted my head and blinked through the rain to Lark.
He stood with his hand on his brother’s shoulder, his head thrown back, and the majority of whatever Razak had unleashed pouredintohim, shielding me behind him. Whatever was happening to me, rolled over and through him, wave after wave. A hundred times worse. I was dying inside, my will, my passion, all of it wilting on the stem. Then Lark’s light would die like this too, and I couldn’t bear it, not him.
A defiant spark sizzled to life inside me, burning in the cold and the dark.
Nobody hurt Lark and lived.
I swayed to my feet, numb, merely existing. The weight of my own lifeless flesh tried to hold me still, but the fire to save Lark burned strong and grew ever brighter, pushing the numbness away. Waves of power beat out from Razak’s body, channeled into Lark, and washed over the crowd, beating them down. Somewhere distant, I knew this was devastating, knew it would be our end—mine, theirs, all of us—and if it wasn’t for Lark absorbing half of his brother’s onslaught, we’d already be vacant shells.
