When I looked up, all I could see was smoke. The globe separated me from the fumes, but I couldn’t see anything beyond it. All I heard were screams.
And that’s when the first person slammed the side of my shield.
And then another.
I watched, horrified, as another slid down the side of my sphere, their hands and mouth trailing blood as they collapsed to the dirt.
I had no idea what was happening. All I knew was it was everywhere else—everywhere but me.
There were so many screams.
I should have reacted. I should have cast something to help, but I was numb. I didn’t know who or what the person was casting, and all I could think was that he had finally caught up to me. Was it him? I wasn’t sure I could fight.
I wasn’t sure I should.
Then the screams stopped. A woman’s hysterical laugh rose above the din. Smoke was still clearing, but from what I could see…
My casting faltered from the horror in my chest.
A ring of dead villagers surrounded my feet. The cobblestones ran red with their blood.
A hovering dagger appeared at my throat.
“There she is. Wanted alive.” A familiar voice spat the last word with venom. Mira. Blayne’s right hand. “The king sends fifty sniveling men and demotes me to a guard.” She snorted. “And look which one of us finally caught up to his elusive little rebel after all.”
I couldn’t speak. Horror still flooded my chest—not for my sake, but the thirty others in the street.
“This,” Mira added, “should change his mind.”
“Did Blayne promote your brother instead?” My rebuttal was weak. I was stalling, trying to buy myself time to think. Darren wasn’t here; it was just her. “Marius always was the better mage.” The blade twitched, and I swallowed as it scraped against skin. “Blayne must have finally figured that out.”
Everyone knew Marius had been King Lucius’s favorite. It was a sore spot for the jealous sister. She’d had to team up with the king’s heir to finally gain recognition.
The mage didn’t react as I’d hoped. “You haven’t heard.” Her lips curved up in a merciless slant. “Well, this is a treat.”
My pulse thundered in my ears.
“Blayne,” she declared, watching my face, “is dead. The palace healers were incompetent. He was gone before sunrise the night you escaped.”
But that means… My stomach dropped. I could be a king killer and there could still be a king.
Blayne had a successor.
The one person who was never supposed to wear the crown.
“The new king is the one who ordered the bounty on your head.” Mira continued on with a hint of glee. “You are to be his example to the rest.”
I couldn’t breathe. My heart thumped heavily and my lungs rose and fell, but nothing was coming. I was numb.
Darren was king.
I had never even considered a future in which his brother was gone. I’d been so convinced Blayne would survive.
And now.
I remembered his words that night: “You took… everything.”
“After the war, he’ll hunt the rest of the rebels down. Make no mistake.”
I could barely process her words. “After the war? But—”
“What? You thought he wouldn’t continue where his brother left off?” Mira sneered as she drew close. “Your beloved never believed a word you said. He sent the Crown’s Army to march on Caltoth not two days after he was crowned.”
But this couldn’t be. Darren wasn’t the enemy. The enemy was dead.
But he still believes in Blayne’s cause.
“I’m sure they’re almost to the border by now. They should reach Caltoth any day.”
“But I…” I’d been hiding out in the forest for days, slowly making my way north, remaining miles off the main road except for today. It was possible.
No.
Darren wouldn’t do this. “You are lying.” She had to be; I couldn’t believe the alternative.
“Am I?” Mira chortled. “Well, you will see soon enough.”
The pressure of the blade was enough to draw blood. Little rivulets slid down my neck, slick and warm. The cut was a building sting, but it was nothing thanks to the panic in my lungs.
If Darren was almost to the border, had he passed the keep? Had he found Alex and Ella? Had he figured out who the rebels were?
There were a thousand questions, and the worst one was burning a hole in my chest. I couldn’t even process its implications.
What have I done?
Mira’s eyes narrowed to slits as she took a step forward, manacles in hand. “You try anything,” she warned, “and I’ll break both your legs. The king might want you alive, but he never said you had to be pristine.”
One more step. Then another. I waited until the woman was six yards away.
She must have forgotten how long it took to bring me to my knees, to drain all of the stamina I had spent so many years building. She had grown too accustomed to winning with ten regiment mages at her side in the dungeon.
Only now it was just the two of us. And right now, I might have been beaten and bruised, but this was far from my worst, even with her blade at my neck.