“Of course, in battle only one of you would be fighting at a time. That would make these enchantments easier to manage.” I drew a vial of my blood from the bag of supplies I’d brought and carefully painted the symbol of the spirit god on the king’s forehead. Because of his geas with them, the spirit god’s symbol seemed most likely to give him strength.
To Raisa, I gave the shield. With so much power of her own, she probably wouldn’t need much assistance from me during the battle, but better defense seemed like a useful thing to provide her if nothing else. When she brought the shield up before her, her manipulation of the energies tugged at my own life force, my own magic. And it was strange to watch the dark river of my magic be unwound and re-formed into the blinding glitter of hers as she crafted a wall of power. She made it look effortless, as easy as breathing. She needed no coaching at all from me once I’d shown her what to do, though her power was so great that my head swam after she was done.
Finally, I used a last dab of blood to trace the symbol of the earth god on Gorval’s hand and bestow the gift of healing.
I didn’t dare test it by drawing my own blood and creating an enchantment loop, so Eywin nicked his wrist. I coached Gorval through using the power, and magic knitted the flesh back together until it looked as if nothing had ever happened.
The king hurled fireballs at Raisa, delighted when they dissipated against her shield. He increased his attack, pelting her with bolts of energy and spikes of ice. Every blow that landed on her shield reverberated through the connection she had with me until my head felt like the inside of a clanging bell. Raisa figured out how to use her shield as a weapon, pushing it away from herself to knock Gorval off his feet. They all marveled at their new powers, but the longer I helped maintain their enchantments, the more my own energy faded. The sun made my skull pound. Or maybe it was lack of sleep and the constant thread of desperate anxiety about not having found the Fatestone. I felt pulled in too many directions as each of them played with the abilities I’d given them. Soon I was on my knees in the sand, the sky spinning above me.
“Asra, are you all right?” Eywin asked.
“I need them to stop now,” I said, my voice coming out weakly. “It’s too much chaos. . . . I can’t manage this many at once.”
Eywin crossed the sand to them, waving his arms to get their attention, but it was too late. Darkness was already closing in.
My sacrifice for his gain.
I woke up hours later back in my room at the castle with Eywin at my bedside. Twilight hovered outside the window in gloomy colors as clouds rolled in from the west.
“How are you feeling, dear?” he asked.
I propped myself up in bed, trying to ignore the pounding in my skull. “What happened?”
“The enchantments broke when you collapsed,” he said, handing me a steaming mug of tea.
The sharp, herbal scent of it sent a pang of longing for Hal through me, and I made it through only a few sips before having to set it aside.
“I suppose this means I can’t enchant all three of them for the battle,” I said.
Eywin shook his head. “It was decided that you’ll reserve your powers for the king. Gorval and Raisa are both very powerful on their own. If they can’t match Ina, at least the king will be prepared to soundly defeat her. He’s defeated his last challengers with very little trouble. This shouldn’t be any different.”
“Right,” I said, a creeping thread of unease winding through me. Could I watch Ina die if that was what it came to?
“As for me, I should be off to the workshop. I have a few more calculations I’d like to run to see if there’s any way to prevent what happened today. You missed the evening meal, but I can have something sent to you if you like,” Eywin offered.
“That’s all right,” I said. Night had almost fallen—it was time for me to go out in search of Atheon again. Now that I knew what the battle might do to me, I wanted more than ever to find the Fatestone. I didn’t want to fight at all. I didn’t want to be anyone’s sacrifice.
After Eywin left, I pulled on my cloak and sneaked out to the city. As I crossed the palace gardens, the night smelled of dry grass and stones still warm from the heat of the day. Insects chirped and night birds called to one another. I picked up their melodies and hummed a few bars of a tune for comfort. My head still ached. Could I even do this tonight?
I took a deep breath. I had to.
After passing through the wall surrounding the castle, I stopped to look up at the stars. All I could think of was where I’d been a year ago. Back then, Ina and I would have been lying side by side somewhere remote, a blanket of wool spread beneath us and a blanket of constellations across the sky. She would have buried her face in my neck and kissed me there until I turned away from the stars and into her arms. Last summer I had two equally functional hands with which to touch her, and innocence that had not yet been broken.
Longing overcame me. I missed the person I used to be and the person I had hoped to become. I missed the version of myself that knew how to love without fear. I missed a time when I hadn’t felt like love was cursed to go hand in hand with betrayal.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to have a heart in one piece.
I couldn’t.
“Psssst,” a voice whispered.
My eyes flew open, and I had my knife drawn in seconds. I was no longer the fearful child I’d been before I left home.
“Asra?” the person said, his voice tentative.
The sound of it almost stopped my heart.
Hal.
“Why are you here?” I asked, my voice clipped.
He sighed. “I told Nismae this was a bad idea. She sent me to get you.” He sounded like a kicked puppy.
“So you did run back to your sister after all,” I said bitterly.
He shook his head. “No. But she knew where to find me, and she knew I’d be able to get to you. It’s not as though she can walk up to the front doors of the castle.”
“What does she want now?” I hadn’t changed my mind since I’d spoken to her and Ina. The questions I truly wanted to ask danced through my mind. Where had he been? Was he all right? The dark circles under his eyes seemed to indicate he’d been sleeping about as well as me, unless they were just cast by the moonlight.
“It’s Ina. The baby is coming and she asked for you,” he said.
CHAPTER 32
I STARED AT HIM AND CROSSED MY ARMS AS THOUGH I might be able to hold back the feelings of hurt and confusion that swam in my breast. How could he be the one to fetch me, and how could Ina possibly be asking for me to help her?
“This feels like a trap,” I said. There was no upside for me in this situation. If Hal was back on their side, they were surely using him to lead me straight to Nismae. She’d drain the rest of my blood to keep me from helping the king. And if Ina’s baby was about to be born, that meant my time to find the Fatestone was dwindling.
“It’s not a trap.” He looked at me with troubled eyes, a mirror of everything I felt.
“I know what your word is worth,” I said. A stab of guilt followed.
He looked at me as though I’d struck him, then took a slow breath and tried to pull himself together.
“This isn’t about me and you,” Hal said. “There’s a baby about to be born, and nobody down there knows what to do.”
Unbelievable.
“Nismae couldn’t possibly find a competent midwife in the entire city of Corovja?” I gestured broadly. “She couldn’t just let nature run its course and leave me out of it?”
“Nismae wants what Ina wants, and Ina wants you.” He held out a pair of objects that glinted in the moonlight.
Nismae’s cuffs.
“She gave me these to lend you as a promise of her intent,” he said. “Without them, she’s as vulnerable as any other mortal. You’re more powerful than her and you know it.”
“And what about Ina? How do I know she’s not waiting for me in dragon form, ready to tear off my head because I refused to join her?” I challenged him.