But so did Lorcan as he stalked toward Tanvir, summoning his own twin blades made of swirling shadow and black lightning. “I believe I already made that clear.”
Evelayn pressed the dagger against Abarrane’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. “Not another step, or she dies.”
The entire crowd watched in silence as Lorcan paused, considering. Tanvir was tensed, ready for a fight. The Light Sentries and priestesses were making barely any progress with the shadow wall. Other Light Draíolon rushed forward to help, hacking at it with sun-swords and sending blasts of light and fire at it. The Dark Draíolon throughout the room were edgy, shifting uneasily but not summoning their own weapons—yet.
Ceren hurried forward to join in attacking the wall, desperate to get to her friend—to help somehow. Quinlen followed, conjuring his own weapons.
“I have to say, Evelayn, this is quite the party. I just knew it would be the perfect place to make my grand entrance as the newly invigorated King of Dorjhalon.” Lorcan took another step toward Tanvir, and Evelayn pressed the dagger deeper into Abarrane’s throat. The other queen made a noise of alarm as her blood began to run a slow trickle down to her collarbone, and Lorcan paused again.
“You made a vow, Lorcan.” Tanvir spoke now.
“I made a vow to keep the peace and not to kill Evelayn, true. And as you can see, both Light and Dark Draíolon have gathered here tonight for the festivities, and your queen still stands before you, well and whole.” Lorcan shrugged his shoulders.
“Do you know what happens to oath breakers in the afterlife?” Tanvir pressed.
“As I just illustrated, I have broken no oath. Though you’re one to speak,” Lorcan responded, flippant and unconcerned. Tanvir’s gaze hardened and suddenly he leapt forward, a blinding flash of light and fury. Lorcan barely lifted his sword in time to deflect Tanvir’s blow.
Evelayn cried out, but there was no stopping the two males as they began to fight in earnest, both moving so quickly that Ceren could barely see what was happening. Blasts of light and darkness and the reverberating boom of their weapons clashing filled the Great Hall. Just when Tanvir appeared to have the upper hand and was poised to deliver a killing blow, Lorcan disappeared into a whirling cloud of darkness, only to emerge in his hawk form, flying around Tanvir so quickly he couldn’t react fast enough, allowing Lorcan to shift back into his Draíolon form behind Tanvir, simultaneously sending coils of darkness from his fingertips to encircle the queen’s betrothed before he could deflect them.
“No! Tanvir!” Evelayn’s cry was a desperate plea, but Lorcan just laughed.
“Oh dear, we appear to be at quite a standoff now, don’t we? If you kill my mother, I kill your betrothed.” Lorcan shrugged nonchalantly. “Although I believe we can all applaud his gallant attempt to defend his lady. Come along, join me in applauding him.” Lorcan’s weapons disappeared momentarily so he could clap, turning to face the crowd and gesturing for them to do the same. A few scattered Dark Draíolon clapped, but everyone else stood in stunned silence, except for those still tearing at the shadow wall, desperately trying to get to their queen.
Ceren continued to hack at the writhing shadows with her sun-sword as she watched Tanvir struggle against his bonds; but the chains of darkness made by a royal were unbreakable, except by another royal. And she could tell Evelayn didn’t dare move, her knuckles white on the dagger she still gripped against Abarrane’s throat.
By the Light, Ceren thought, will the fighting and terror never end?
“If you kill him, that is not keeping the peace—you will die, too. What do you hope to gain by all of this, Lorcan?” When Evelayn spoke, Ceren was proud of her friend for keeping her voice haughty—cold even. “Whatever it is, you won’t succeed.”
“Ah, but I already have.” Lorcan’s sword reappeared in his right hand, and he stepped forward to press it between Tanvir’s shoulder blades. Evelayn remained completely motionless, watching him.
Ceren redoubled her efforts, but it seemed like whenever she started to make a hole in the shadows, more would slither over, filling it back in again. The High Priestess and the other priestesses present were summoning as much daylight as they could, pummeling the shadow wall with all their impressive power—but it was Athrúfar, which meant the Light Power was waning as the Dark Power was coming into its strongest season.
It wasn’t enough.
“However,” Lorcan continued, “I’m not without reason. In case you didn’t hear correctly the first time, I have an offer for you, my dear queen of éadrolan.”
“I don’t make deals with oath breakers,” Evelayn responded immediately.
“We’ve already been over this—I have broken no oath yet,” Lorcan shot back. “I haven’t killed you or broken the peace. And I only ask you to do but one thing.”
Evelayn stared at him steadily, seemingly calm and in control, but Ceren knew her well enough that she could tell her friend was frightened.
“Cancel your oath to this unworthy Draíolon and Bind yourself to me instead. Join your power with mine as my queen, so that we might rule our two kingdoms as one, and you shall have your beloved peace.”
“Never,” Evelayn immediately spat.
Tanvir struggled even harder against his bindings, trying to speak, but the shadows filled his mouth, muffling his words.
“Perhaps you should reconsider,” Lorcan said, pressing the sword into Tanvir’s back, sending the chains of darkness writhing around his body, like snakes with bodies of black smoke, coiling tighter and tighter, until Tanvir couldn’t even move, except to stare at Evelayn, his eyes wide and filled with sorrow.
“Stop it,” Evelayn commanded, but her voice was losing authority as she watched Tanvir suffer.
“Say you’ll Bind yourself to me and I shall release him. Nice and peaceful, just how you prefer it.”
“Never,” Evelayn said again, but this time it was a whisper.
“Then you have made your choice.” Lorcan’s expression became thunderous, and with a flick of his wrist, Tanvir was enveloped in blackness. Ceren’s arm fell to her side, the wall forgotten as she stared up at the dais in horror.
“Tanvir!” Evelayn finally rushed forward, leaving the queen, to blast a blinding stream of light at the writhing darkness where her betrothed once stood, but it was too late. The darkness broke apart at the onslaught of her power, and Tanvir collapsed to the ground, completely silent and still.
“NO!” Evelayn’s scream tore through the Great Hall, a sound that was so full of anguish and fury that even Lorcan—who was still alive somehow despite his vow—took a step back.