And then she sent a blast of light at Lorcan. He barely dodged it in time, so it continued on, tearing a hole through the shadow wall that no darkness was able to refill. The Light Sentries and priestesses quickly converged on the hole, joining their efforts to try and tear it wider so they could get through and aid their queen, alone now on the dais with her two greatest enemies.
“You will consent to Binding yourself to me, or suffer a fate worse than death,” Lorcan threatened as he sent a blast of shadow back at Evelayn. She deflected it with a burst of light.
“You can’t kill me, or you’ll die, too!”
“Ah, but I’m not going to kill you. That’s the beauty of it.” Lorcan attacked again and Evelayn deflected again, but a sudden look of terror crossed her face.
“Something wrong, my lady queen?” Lorcan grinned at Evelayn as they circled each other. Abarrane watched with a calculating gleam from her seat behind them; only the original light-chains on her arms remained to restrain her.
“No,” Evelayn said, and shot another stream of light at him, but Ceren could hear the fear in her friend’s voice now … just as the light in the queen’s sun-sword seemed to dim slightly.
“Perhaps your subjects are not quite as loyal as you had supposed,” Lorcan said, and sent another black tendril of darkness at Evelayn. She cut it apart with her sword, but didn’t return his attack this time.
Something was terribly, horribly wrong.
“I believe you are beginning to feel somewhat, shall we say, weak?”
Evelayn lifted her sword up again, but then she stumbled forward a step and the sword winked out and disappeared. The High Queen of éadrolan stared at her hand as if she couldn’t believe it had betrayed her.
“Poison,” she said, so quietly Ceren barely heard her, but the word turned everything in her to ice.
“Ah yes, and a very special kind, too.” Lorcan sent another tendril of shadow at Evelayn, and though she tried to deflect it, her light flickered and died, and the shadow wound itself around her, trapping her arms at her sides. “Specifically made to block your Light Power completely.”
A shocked, terrified murmur rippled through the crowd as their queen—their triumphant, powerful queen—dropped to her knees beside the body of her betrothed. She kept her chin lifted, but she was defeated, and they all knew it.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you my mother was an adept poison-master?”
Abarrane grinned from her seat as she watched her son and the High Queen of éadrolan.
“She was imprisoned—she was guarded day and night,” Evelayn protested.
“But I was allowed to speak with her, and she was still very capable of giving me instructions.”
“No one in my kingdom would have done this to me … no one.” Evelayn was emphatic, but Lorcan just laughed.
“Apparently you are quite mistaken about that, my dear.”
Quinlen continued to send blasts of light at the wall beside Ceren, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her friend, terrified she was about to watch Evelayn die.
“I will ask once more. Now that Tanvir is gone, you won’t even be breaking your oath.” Lorcan walked toward Evelayn, the ruby in his forehead glowing with the power he wielded, while the light in Evelayn’s diamond flickered and dulled in her chest. “Will you Bind yourself to me and seal the peace between our kingdoms by joining our power—and our lives—together? We’re already bound by the vow I made. This is what is supposed to happen, Evelayn. And you know it.”
Evelayn stared up at him, broken and defeated, but still defiant, and Ceren loved her intensely for it. “I will not.”
A flash of fury crossed Lorcan’s face, and he lunged forward to grab Evelayn’s jaw, twisting her face toward his. She tried to jerk away, but his fingers dug into her skin, sending more tendrils of shadow to lock her head into place, forcing her to stare up at him.
“Then you have committed yourself to this fate. I am sorry for it. But there is no other way.”
At first Ceren couldn’t tell what was happening—it looked as though the shadows were moving across Evelayn’s body faster and faster. Abarrane suddenly stood up, breaking free from her bonds, and stepped forward beside her son, hands extended.
The Light Sentries and priestesses were crying out for their queen, so close to widening the hole enough to break through, but they were too slow, and all Ceren could do was watch, frozen in growing horror, as Evelayn began to writhe, her body twisting and contorting.
Lorcan’s mouth moved, but Ceren couldn’t hear what he said when suddenly the black bindings became a swirling cloud, hiding the queen from view.
“NO! Evelayn!” Ceren rushed forward, slamming against the wall to no avail. The shadows pressed her back, a cold, swirling force keeping her from reaching her friend before she died, as Tanvir had died.
But when the swirling darkness fell back, Evelayn was no longer there. Instead, a beautiful white swan with violet eyes stood in her place, the diamond conduit stone embedded in the feathers on her snowy breast. Somehow, Lorcan had forced her to shape-shift. The one thing Evelayn had been unable to master. Ceren had never seen a royal force another royal into her animal form against her will.
“Behold your queen,” King Lorcan sneered, gesturing toward the bird. The swan stretched her wings, preparing to take off, but his mother sent a tendril of darkness around the swan’s neck, holding the end of it, almost like a leash, keeping her from flying away.
“Do you see how merciful I am? Allowing her to live, when she showed no such mercy to my father.”
Ceren didn’t even realize she was still throwing herself against the wall, trying to break through somehow, until Quinlen grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“There’s nothing we can do anymore. Not right now,” he murmured to her, holding her in place despite her struggles to break free of his grip. She knew he was right. Even the Light Sentries and priestesses had stopped, standing motionless, waiting.
“And now, watch as I take what she should have given me freely, had she truly cared about peace, as she claimed.” Lorcan gestured to his mother, who sent more tendrils of darkness to hold the swan in place.
And then Lorcan took his night-sword, made of shadows and darkness, and cut the conduit stone out of the swan’s breast, staining her white feathers crimson with blood as the diamond fell to the ground. The swan screeched in agony, trying to escape her terrible fate, yet unable to do anything but continue her haunting trumpet of pain and despair. Queen Abarrane’s dark tendrils tightened even further, refusing to allow the swan to move.
Lorcan bent over and picked up the bloody diamond and held it aloft, his face lit with triumph. “I kept my vow—your queen still lives, and I will maintain the peace. As ruler of both kingdoms.”
“Kneel before my son—the High King of Dorjhalon and éadrolan!” Queen Abarrane called out.
When only a few Dark Draíolon followed her command, she sent a blast of darkness out at the crowd, causing the younglings to scream again.