Alucard had told her once that his brother was a weak magician, that he could barely cobble together a wall from rock and earth. Rock and earth, he’d said. Not wind.
If the room was warded, how was he using magic? And if it wasn’t warded, where was hers?
“Clever, isn’t it?”
An arc of flame curled through the air around Berras, unruly but bright.
First wind, thought Lila, now fire? How was he doing it?
“The queen should keep a closer eye over her tools. Or at least, over her company.”
Berras flexed his hand, and Lila had just enough time to see a glint of gold before Berras made a fist, and her entire body buckled under an unseen force. She hit the floor hard, but this time, there was no wind. She tried to move, but her limbs refused, her whole skeleton groaning as she pushed back against the hold.
Bone magic.
“I was planning to use the bind on my brother.”
She tried to will her body, to make it hers again, but this wasn’t one will at war against another. It was something else.
“I thought it would be fitting,” he went on, “to kill Alucard with his own power. But I could hardly pass up yours. After all, why have a piece of magic when you can have it all?”
Horror swept through Lila.
The gold cuff. The gold ring. Berras wasn’t using his magic. He was using hers. Channeling it.
“Of course, I’m not versed in Antari spells,” he said, “but that’s all right. You’ll teach them to me.”
“Here’s one for free,” offered Lila through gritted teeth, dragging her head up as far as the working would allow. “Go fuck yourself.”
Berras smiled, tight and humorless. “You know, of all the elements, bone really is the most useful.”
There was an audible crack as he said it, and one of Lila’s lower ribs snapped in two. Her jaw was locked shut, but a scream still tore between her teeth.
“The ability to control another person’s body.”
A second rib snapped.
“Even break it.”
And a third.
Lila cried out, gasping as a splintered edge dug into her lungs.
“Oh,” she hissed, her breath uneven. “I can see why Alucard hates you.”
In answer, an invisible hand cupped the back of her head and forced it down, pinning her gaze to the floor.
Something swung there, like a pendulum. A black ring on a leather cord. Her ring. Kell’s ring. She cursed herself for not wearing it like he’d wanted her to.
She strained, fingers twitching feebly on the wood.
Lila focused all her strength into one hand. If she could just reach …
She heard the chair scrape against the floor as Berras righted it, and then she was being dragged upright, and shoved roughly back into it, her ribs screaming as they hit the wood. But the weight on her bones disappeared, and in that stolen moment, Lila grasped for the necklace, her bound hands halfway to her chest before the wood of the chair reached out and caught her fingers.
“So much power,” said Berras as branches of wood grew around her arms, forcing them down. “Wasted on you.” The wood wrapped her shoulders, pinning them back to the chair.
“Fuck,” she hissed, clawing uselessly at the air. At the ring swinging just out of reach.
Berras noticed. “What’s this?” he asked, fingers closing around the blackened band.
And for the first time, Lila was glad Rhy had married such a clever queen. Glad she’d designed the rings so that they worked no matter whose hand was holding them.
Lila knew the spell, of course. Kell had told her the words, the day he’d given her the ring. She’d pretended not to listen, but she’d still committed them to memory. Now, for the first time, she said them aloud.
“As vera tan.”
I need you.
The words came out, barely a whisper, and Berras leaned in, those eyes—a mocking shadow of her Alucard’s—stopping inches from her own.
“What did you say?” he asked.
Lila drew in a breath, ignoring the scrape of bone on lung. “I said, all the magic in the world won’t make you less of an ass.”
Berras Emery frowned, and tore the ring from her throat. The cord snapped, coming away in his hand. He straightened, and walked away, taking her magic with him. He flung open the door, and vanished into the house beyond. As he did, she heard him cast the ring away. Heard it bounce, and roll down the hall.
Lila closed her eyes, and smiled to herself, even though it hurt.
* * *
Alucard Emery was well versed in the city’s many sources of debauchery.
He visited the brothels for their information, but he’d always favored the drink and entertainment of the London pleasure gardens. In his younger years, he’d prided himself on his knowledge of them all, but Lila was right.
Marriage had clearly made Alucard a bore.
He’d heard of the Veil, of course—a traveling garden, one that descended on a different place every time it opened—but he’d never visited, and had to admit, he was impressed. Not just by the décor, the offerings, the discretion, but by the idea.
It was the perfect place to hide the Hand. He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner.
Alucard held a long-stemmed pipe in one hand, an untouched drink in the other as he drifted through a crowded chamber, trying to hear something, anything of use. Kell had hovered at his arm until he’d sent him off, insisting they’d have more luck if they split up. It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely.
He checked his watch. It was half past ten. He knew that Lila was here—she had to be—but he’d skimmed the rooms, and so far, found no sign of her. Or the Hand. Which meant they were either hiding somewhere else, or right here, mingling in the sea of masked faces.
Kell returned to his side. “Nothing,” he growled, and Alucard threw an arm around the prince’s shoulders as if they were the best of friends, enjoying a night on the town. Kell, idiot that he was, recoiled. Alucard tightened his grip, leaning his weight onto Kell, as if steadying himself.
“Have you been drinking?” hissed the prince, and despite the black mask that covered his face, Alucard could perfectly picture the way Kell’s features were twisting, his brows drawn together, his mouth turned down in that perpetual scowl.
“Believe it or not,” said Alucard, careful to keep his voice lower than the music, “I’m trying to blend in. You act as if you’ve never enjoyed a pleasure garden, when I know for a fact Rhy dragged you to more than one. According to him, you are at least capable of having fun.”
Alucard reached up and embraced the side of Kell’s hood, the way he’d cup a close friend’s cheek. This time, Kell did not recoil, but his body was stiff as stone under his touch.
“Have you found anything or not?” he muttered.
Alucard shook his head. “Not yet. Perhaps we should—”
But at that moment, Kell stiffened, and pulled away. He turned, sweeping out of the room into the hall, and Alucard had no choice but to follow. He caught up in time to see Kell ducking into an unclaimed room, holding his hand as if burned.
Alucard shut the door behind them. “What’s wrong?”
“My ring.”
Two bands circled Kell’s right hand, one red, the other black. This second had taken on a faint glow, and Alucard knew, from the times Rhy had called on him, that it was hot to the touch, just shy of burning.
“I thought she refused to wear it,” said Alucard.
Kell shook his head. “She told me she didn’t.”
“Yes, well, good thing she lies,” said Alucard, looking around for a scrying table as Kell pulled off the ring.
“She’d never use it, unless she was in trouble.”
Alucard didn’t see the blade until it was already against Kell’s palm, a line of red welling up beneath the steel. Lila would kill him if he let the Antari use his broken magic.
“Wait,” he said, grabbing Kell’s shoulder, but he was too late, because Kell closed his bloody hand over the ring and said, “As Tascen,” and the room was ripped away, the whole world subsumed by a sudden, infinite dark.
It lasted only a moment.