“It is the power that allows me to call storms.” The king raised his other hand and a rumble of thunder sounded overhead.
“It gives me the ability to bring forth anything I want.” He opened his palms and a gray dove fluttered into the throne room, desperately seeking some way out.
“It gives me control over life and death itself.” With a gesture from the king, the dove fell to the floor and then a sprout burst out of the dead bird’s open mouth, leaves unfurling in search of sunlight.
With each of his acts my fear heightened. Even with Nismae’s help, how could Ina ever expect to take on someone with powers granted by all of the gods?
“If an imposter took the crown and broke the bond between the monarch and our deities, the gods would abandon our kingdom. They would take the gifts they’ve granted Zumorda with them. Manifests. Magic that imbues all living things with power. Demigods like you would no longer be able to live here. Zumorda would end up like Sonnenborne—a godless wasteland.” The king gestured at a servant to clean up the body of the bird lying in the middle of the throne room.
Horror flooded into me until I thought I might be sick. If the king won, Ina and Nismae would both surely die for their transgressions. If by some chance Ina defeated the king, the entire kingdom would be destroyed.
This was so much worse than I’d ever imagined.
Nothing I could do seemed like enough to help—except stopping the battle before it could start. I needed the Fatestone to change the past.
“As you see, there is no way your friend will be a threat to me, dragon or not,” he said, clearly misinterpreting the dismay on my face as fear of his abilities.
“Your powers are formidable, Your Majesty, but I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” I said.
I explained Ina’s recent alliance with Nismae, and what had happened in Orzai, tugging back my sleeve to show the scar where Nismae had stabbed me. Both sides of the wound had healed into an angry red line that had only just begun to fade.
“Ina has a gift of fire somehow bestowed by the dragon she took as her manifest,” I continued. “With the notes in my journal and the blood stolen from me, Nismae will be able to give some of my powers to Ina. There’s no telling how powerful those enchantments will make her, and they can only be removed by the person who performed the enchantment.”
The king leaned forward. “And do you know how to perform these same enchantments?”
“It would be easier with my notes, but yes. I can probably anticipate some of what she might come up with. But I don’t know what else she’s capable of,” I said. Nismae had devoted her life to research of magic and magical objects. All I had was Miriel’s training, and I didn’t know how comprehensive it had been.
“Raisa, tell me what you see in this girl,” the king said.
The High Councillor stared through me as I trembled beneath her otherworldly gaze. The energies surrounding me shifted, as though disrupted by an eerie caress.
I shuddered.
“It is as she says,” Raisa finally said in a voice creaky as old wood. “She speaks the truth, and the power of fate runs in her blood.”
“If a challenger is coming, we must prepare,” the king said. “And if they have your blood, there is only one way to avoid any unpleasant surprises your dragon friend might have in store.” He paused.
My stomach turned inside out.
“You want my blood, too,” I whispered. This wasn’t why I’d come here. How could he ask this of me?
“Yes.” He nodded gravely. “It would be wise to match them enchantment for enchantment. Use your knowledge and blood with Eywin’s research to ensure that nothing they come up with is more powerful than the protections placed on me. Together we can ensure that the dragon will be defeated, and Nismae will be punished for her betrayal.”
A sliver of doubt worked its way beneath my skin. If his magic was as powerful as he claimed, why would he need my blood, too? I thought of the dove he’d conjured, alive for only a moment before the sprout burst out of it.
Perhaps I was meant to be the dove. My sacrifice for his gain.
Hal edged forward as though he intended to stand between me and the king. I grabbed his hand to stop him.
“It’s not only for me, Asra. Your kingdom is at stake,” the king said, almost as though he had read my mind.
I didn’t want to do it.
Thinking about giving away my blood dredged up memories of being locked in Nismae’s tower room. If I never had to use my blood or my gift again, it would be too soon.
“Let me be clear, Asra,” the king said. “I don’t want to see you hurt. You would be helping of your own free will. You and Eywin could work together on the enchantments. You’d have food and lodgings provided—everything an esteemed guest of the crown could expect. Perhaps you might find that you like it here. Eywin could use a new apprentice.” He steepled his hands and waited for my response.
I waited to feel reassurance, but it didn’t come. I looked at Hal, whose stormy expression made his feelings very clear. He didn’t want me to do this, either. But with a battle looming that I’d have a part in whether I wanted to or not, the only thing I still had control over was my search for the Fatestone. If I pledged myself to the king, perhaps I could get him to speak to the shadow god on my behalf to find out where Atheon was. He wouldn’t have to know why. The only hope of preventing the battle was to get the Fatestone and fix all this before it came to pass.
“Your Majesty honors and humbles me with this offer. I pledge my service to you for the battle to come,” I said. If finding the Fatestone later meant an unwelcome sacrifice now, so be it.
Hal looked at me as though I’d lost my mind.
“The royal scribe will make a record of your acceptance,” the king said.
His words settled on my shoulders with weight almost too heavy to bear. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Hal and I bowed and were escorted out. I left the throne room with sweaty palms, my heart racing. Hal walked ahead of me so quickly that I could barely keep up.
“Wait! We need to talk,” I said. I needed him to weigh in on my plan. I wanted to discuss what had happened between us the night before.
He sighed, and walked faster. “I’m tired.”
“Like the Sixth Hell you are,” I said. It was only midafternoon. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing!” he said, but he didn’t look at me. I followed, trying to figure out how to confront him. It would have helped if I’d had any idea what was wrong. All I knew was that by the time we entered the hallway that housed our chambers, I couldn’t bear everything that lay unspoken between us any longer.
“Come into my room,” I said, still searching for the right words.
“Why?” He folded his arms.
“Please,” I said. After what we’d just been through and the risk I’d just taken, I was too exhausted to argue with him.
“Fine.” He marched into my room and I followed, closing the door behind us. He took a seat at the vanity beside the bed, looking comically gangly atop the ornate stool where I’d sat to have my hair done that morning.
“I need your advice. I don’t want this to just be about me. I want this to be about what’s right for the kingdom,” I said.
“It looks like it’s going to dragon dung either way,” Hal said. “Maybe we should get out of here while we can. Head for Havemont or Mynaria. Some of my demigod siblings seem to think that’s a good idea—a few of them have left for Havemont already.”
I quashed the anger threatening to rise.
“Could you try to be helpful even for a minute? Is that too much to ask?” Running away wouldn’t solve anything, not when the fate of people we cared about hung in the balance. Not when the entire kingdom could be at stake.
“I didn’t bring you here so you could sacrifice yourself to the king. So he could bleed you out worse than my sister did,” Hal said.