“Nev…Nev doesn’t know about any of this?” I knew the answer even as I asked. Of course he didn’t. There was no way. He was a Dracorte, and at times he might be na?ve, arrogant, and blind…but he wasn’t this.
“Prince Nevarian has no idea what is happening at the moment, and it’s for the best. He had to believe he was accomplishing something noble, rather than something great…a fault in him that Thelarus regrets, since it requires the heir to be kept in the dark for some tasks that require harsher methods. But my nephew is young; he’s still learning. Someday, he’ll understand these efforts were necessary.”
A bitter taste rose in my mouth. The king had let me take his hand, thanked me for coming to help his family and for saving his son’s life…and then he’d commanded the guards to stop me if I tried to leave and told Rubion to use me as he saw fit, wiping away any illusion of choice I might have had.
The thought of Marsius doing these types of things for Nev someday made my stomach turn. Or maybe it was the way Nev’s uncle was still looking at me.
But Nev and Marsius were still good, I knew it—not that it made me feel better. That made it worse. Because somewhere along the line, when kids like Marsius became men like Rubion—or when Nev became king like Thelarus—the Dracortes learned how to be monsters. They didn’t even need powers like mine to do it.
Those Dracortes were the strange, disturbing, inhuman creatures. Not me.
“But you needn’t fear this,” Rubion continued. “You will be part of something important. I don’t mean the conference, or even my family’s forthcoming successes. Something greater.” He brushed the scattered strands of hair back from my face, peering into my eyes as though seeing the Shadow deep inside me. “Something you couldn’t possibly imagine.”
“If I can’t understand, why bother explaining then?” I demanded, my back straightening as I tried to summon some anger—maybe even actual Shadow. But my voice came out high, and only tears were in my eyes. “Why not just cut me open now and get it over with?”
He waved his hand. “There will be none of that. I want us to be friends. You and I are going to do something together that no one else has dreamed. Of course, being a very special young woman at a critical time that means that, while I’m sure everyone would prefer to take more care with you, there are things we must learn quickly. But luckily”—his smile was almost regretful again—“we now have others more suitable for our…baser…experiments. Experiments you will never have to witness or undergo, so you never have to worry.”
I missed most of what he said after we now have others.
Others. My breath, my blood, all thought in my brain screamed to a halt. My entire life teetered in that moment, on that one word.
“I hoped if I explained, told you the truth—because unlike Nevarian, you appreciate the truth, don’t you, delivered without garnish?—I hoped you would understand. You’ll be kept safe, even comfortable after this unfortunate mishap, and become part of something more important than even my family’s well-being, or anyone’s.”
I wasn’t really listening to him. “Where’s Arjan?”
Arjan. He was supposed to be at the ball, but I hadn’t seen him—only Basra, who had probably been looking for him too, along with whatever else she might have been doing. She’d had very good reason to disobey my command to stay on the ship, if that was the case.
Rubion paused, lips pursed as if disappointed in my response, and began to say something reassuring in that smooth tone. But his hesitation was enough.
“Where is my brother?” I lunged forward on the table, half sliding off, and seized the lapels of his lab coat. The darkness shivered on the edges of my vision, as if trying to creep farther into my eyes.
I just needed more…
Rubion recoiled as if I were an unfortunate mess that was coming too close to getting on his shoes, while other hands seized my shoulders and pulled me back.
“If you’ll excuse me.” He slid the lab coat from his shoulders and straightened the cuffs of his suit. “I hate royal functions, but I hate unnecessary emotional outbursts more. I must say my formal farewells this evening anyway, for appearance’s sake. I’ll return once you’re calmer and more willing to listen to reason.” He pivoted away as I was forced back down onto the table, my restraints snapped into place once again. I tried to fight, but I was so dizzy and weak I mostly just cursed and yelled. “Keep the light on her, and try to keep her awake. Monitor her eyes along with how much suppressant you’re giving her. If they turn more than twenty percent, increase the dosage. Put her out, if necessary.”
In the blinding glare, I didn’t see him leave. But I heard the heavy hiss of a door opening and closing.
So, Nev’s uncle had just come from the ball, and now he was going back like nothing was happening here. Like he didn’t have me strapped to a table, like he didn’t have Arjan…somewhere.
Where was Arjan? The light…It wasn’t only for them to see me better. It was to keep me from seeing the room. Not whatever, but maybe whoever might be in it.
I needed the darkness inside me now, in more ways than one. I gritted my teeth against the sobs trying to escape and took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Please,” I whispered. Please, please, please. I mouthed the word silently as I strained as hard as I’d ever reached for anything in my life. None of the guards who were no doubt in the room would actually see me reaching, since my struggle was entirely on the inside. Maybe they would think I was praying.
The blackness at the corners of my vision pulsed, once. I closed my eyes before anyone could notice. But even behind my lids, the light grew darker. Dark enough to see, I hoped, when I opened them again.
A hand fell on my shoulder. “Miss, please try to stay awake.”
I almost didn’t want to, but I turned my head in the direction Rubion had been looking earlier in our conversation, dropped my cheek against the cold metal table, and opened my eyes. My vision focused through the dark veil…and my lungs became a void. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. My chest was collapsing.
A guard let out a shout, but I barely heard him.
Arjan was laid out on a table on the far side of the room. He had only a towel draped across his hips, the rest of his body exposed, aside from where the straps held him down. Wires, tubes, and needles plunged into every part of him or clamped onto the ends of his fingers. Along one arm and hand, patches of skin had been burned or cut away, like earth being tested for minerals to mine. A clear film coated any open wounds to keep out infection, but it didn’t hide what they’d done, leaving the tissue exposed as if under glass. And even from this distance, I could see that one of his eye sockets was rimmed in synthetic lining—empty, where an eye had been.
For a moment, only one thought pulsed with every beat of my heart: Arjan, Arjan, Arjan.