My whisper was hoarse. “I d-didn’t mean to—”
“You think I enjoy this war, Ryiah?” Darren’s voice rose as he cut me off, echoing along the walls; I felt it right down to my bones. “That I take pleasure in wearing my dead brother’s crown?” He sent off another blast of magic that shook the cavern behind us as he shouted: “You think this was supposed to be me?”
“Then call your army off.” I pulled myself up slowly, wincing, taking an inch at a time. I could see something in his eyes; it was there, that panic, that desperate boy on the cliffs. I just needed to reach him. “You can stop this, Darren.” Please, listen to me. I know you are still there. “Even if you don’t believe in the rebels, we can still end the war.” My next words came out in a tumbling rush. “You don’t have to be king. You never wanted this. You can walk away and let someone else take up the throne.”
Rage contorted his face, and whatever I’d glimpsed was gone. “I will die before a pack of traitors take up the crown.”
“They aren’t traitors.” A plea was seeping into my throat. “Darren, please, they aren’t who you think they are. They sent me to—”
“To distract the king while they play ‘take out the leader?’” His snarl cut the air like a whip. “I know there are others outside, Ryiah. Who do you think taught you that tactic in the first place?”
“That’s not why I—”
“Let me guess.” His lips twisted in a smirk. “You are here for me.” He closed the distance between us; I let him. Darren’s eyes gleamed as he placed himself in front of me, his fingers reaching out to capture a strand of my hair, twirling it in his hand. “They voted to kill the king, but you wanted to reason with him. Surely he would understand if you could just explain.”
“This isn’t a trick!” Why was this so hard? I could see the disbelief in his garnet irises, and it had my pulse thundering in my ears. “Maybe they don’t believe you can be trusted, Darren, but I know they’re wrong. I won’t let anything happen—”
“And you won’t let anything happen after I recall my army.”
My eyes searched his, pleading. “Yes!”
Darren’s grip tightened on my hair until it hurt. “Such a beautiful liar.”
“Darren, p-please…” I knew it was wrong, but I lifted my hand to touch his face. His other hand caught it, slamming my wrist high against the wall.
“Don’t ever touch me again.” His chest rose and fell heavily as he hissed, “I am done playing games, Ryiah. You aren’t some cowering victim; you never were.”
“This isn’t a game!”
“I know your friends are out there.” The scorn was etched into every line of his face. “And I know exactly why you are here.”
“I’m not—”
My protest turned to a cry as Darren released my neck and used his free hand to produce a dagger.
“Fool me once,” he said, “shame on you. There won’t be a second time.”
Then he plunged the blade into the center of my raised palm.
For a moment, I just stared with disbelieving eyes. There was a faltering in my chest, a hitched intake of breath, and something as precious as hope shattered with the piercing sensation of iron.
And then.
Everything.
Was.
On.
Fire.
There was nothing to describe the way the steel cut through muscle and scraped against bone. The incalculable sting of a puncture and the betrayal in my chest.
“I wonder how much more it will take for you to break.” Darren pressed close as I fought back a sob. The pressure was doing terrible things to my insides, and it was all I could do to keep my magic at bay. “You can choose to drop the charade now, and fight…”
I took a shuddering breath. “It’s n-not a—”
His grip shifted on the knife, and I couldn’t breathe. All I could taste was hot metallic blood as I bit down my cheek to keep from crying out loud.
“Or I can continue until your screams bring the others out of hiding.” Darren’s lips curled in a sneer. “One way or another, I’m going to get my fight, Ryiah.”
A part of my hand was numb, plastered against the ice, and the rest was writhing in a gulf of fire and agony. It was hard just to think.
Fight him.
No.
Fight, or die.
I blinked against a wave of ever-mounting pain. I wouldn’t fight back, any defense would trigger something I couldn’t take back. My control was slipping, and I was afraid just how hard he would push.
He believes you are here to betray him. Fight, and you lose any chance of bringing him back.
“No.” The word tumbled from my lips, and it was nothing next to the scream that followed.
Darren twisted the knife.
Pain tore a molten trail up every part of my arm, and my screams singed the air as I fought the magic threatening to break.
“Fight me!” Darren slammed me against the wall. The back of my head hit rock, and I choked, struggling to breathe. “Stop pretending and fight me, Ryiah!”
His shout echoed my cry, but I could feel the shaking in his limbs.
Whatever he felt, he wasn’t immune. There was still a part of the boy I knew.