“Not an option. Perhaps it would help you choose if you heard their opinions?” He waved his hand at Channon.
Channon fell forward, breathing heavily. “R—Rayna. It’s all right. Don’t play his game. Don’t let him put the blame on you. This isn’t your fault. Don’t choose, just look away. Look away, and it will be over soon. I love—”
“Enough of that.” Terayan silenced him again. He turned to Kellan.
“Red. Rayna.” Kellan smiled weakly as he said her name. “Listen to me for once in your life. Save Channon. We both know that’s what you want. My death isn’t your fault. Truth is, I’ve been dead for a long time. Meeting you—it gave me a chance to feel alive again, to be a part of something that mattered. So let me die for something that matters, too. You and Channon belong together, and there are worse things to die for than love.”
“How poetic,” Terayan said. “Well, Rayna, have you made your decision?”
Rayna struggled for breath. How could she say the words?
Kellan drove her mad more often than not, but he was her friend. He had saved her when they'd barely known each other. He had helped her save Channon and her country. She had rescued him from Krymammer, but not before his uncle had died—died because he'd helped her. She owed Kellan everything.
But he was right. Rayna knew what she wanted to do.
Rayna had almost lost Channon once. She swore she would never lose him again—that she would do anything to keep him safe.
Now she knew what that oath meant.
Rayna had risked everything to save Channon from the Hex. She thought they had both escaped with their souls intact.
She was wrong.
“Rayna.” Terayan’s hands tensed on her shoulders. “Choose now, or they both die to spare your conscience.”
Her soul may have escaped the Mouth of Hell, but she was about to trade it away, along with her friend’s life, to save the man she loved.
“I choose—”
A howl interrupted Rayna, sending the ballroom into a frenzy.
Rayna turned toward the sound.
A white wolf—Kado—stood at the entryway, flanked by Mina and Katrine in her wolf form.
Mina wielded a Kyrean short sword, her yew bow slung over back.
The assembled nobles screamed. Some scattered. Others reached for weapons hidden within their finery.
The guards rushed the newcomers as most of the guests and servers piled through the servants’ entrance to escape.
Terayan dropped his hold on her in shock. “Garrison!” he ordered. “Stay with the prisoners.”
As he spoke, Rayna yanked the dagger from Terayan’s belt.
He turned to her.
She rammed the blade toward his neck.
Terayan fell backward to avoid the blow. His face twisted from an open look of shock to a gnarled mask of rage. As he hit the ground he spat, “Bruherae!”
Rayna’s legs buckled. She toppled over, tearing the white silk dress. Her hands spasmed open and the dagger fell beside her.
Chapter Forty
Silver stole over the palace wall.
Her boots crunched on a rose bush as she crouched in Anhorde's garden beside Roxen. The landscape's cultivated beauty stood in stark contrast to the burning chaos on the palace's other side. Smoke, soot, and sweat carried on the winds despite their peaceful surroundings.
A few moments later Cassian, Arlo, and Haerian had all joined them.
“Where now?” whispered Silver.
“Follow me,” said the Maenoren. “And be prepared, they may not have spotted us come in, but there could be sentries around every corner.”
“Don't worry. We'll smell them coming,” said Haerian.
They crept along the path through the roses, staying low.
Silver scented at least a dozen guards, perhaps more, closer to the castle. As soon as they left the garden, they would be visible to the waiting Maenorens. Silver prepared herself. Her teeth and claws extended, her body was ready to transform.
A twig snapped beneath Haerian's boot.
A sound of alarm came from the waiting Maenorens.
Haerian cursed under her breath.
Silver shifted, leaping into the open with a roar.
The others followed, racing across the field toward the surprised Maenoren defectors.
Silver crashed into her first opponent. Her teeth closed around his neck. She stole his life in a bloody instant. She toppled, dodging a sword as she rolled to the side.
It was the first real battle she'd been in without Bayne. The fear his presence had soothed sizzled in her veins. But this was no time for emotion.
She crouched, avoiding a thrust.
As the attacker's momentum knocked him off-balance, Silver sprang. She knocked the broadsword from his hand.
Cassian finished the man with a quick sword strike to the throat.
Silver lost herself to fury. She shifted between wolf and human, confusing her opponents, taking any opportunity to dispatch them.
“Help!” A Maenoren soldier shouted. “We need reinforcements!”
As they'd hoped, the door to the palace opened as more guards poured out to aid in the skirmish.
Cassian was nearest the door. He skewered one of his countrymen in the belly, beneath his armor. He slammed the dying man against the door, pushing it all the way open.
Haerian ran beneath Cassian's outstretched arm in her black wolf form. She toppled over the first few guards who'd been forced to walk single-file through the small door.
Arlo tore out his attacker's throat and charged after her.
The man who had called for help looked to Roxen and Silver. He was the last of the original guards left standing. He threw up his arms, dropping his sword.
Silver and Roxen ran past him in wolf form, bursting into the door to aid the others.
Cassian slammed the door shut behind them.
Arlo and Haerian had already engaged the remaining men. There was not time to count exactly how many there were.
Silver rolled to avoid a dagger thrown at her head. It glanced off her shoulder with a burning sting.
The basement was dark and cramped. There wouldn't be much room for defensive maneuvers. She'd have to go on the offensive.
Silver shifted, drawing her Alvornian steel blade to parry an attacker's blade. She punched the Maenoren in the jaw. Silver re-took her wolf form. She pounced onto the downed man and finished him.
Something hard slammed into her belly. The sudden pain reverted her to human form as she rolled onto her back, panting for breath.
A Maenoren loomed over. He must have kicked her with his heavy, metal boots. He raised his sword as Silver struggled to reach her knife.
A black wolf knocked the sword from the Maenoren's hands. It flew over Silver's head. Haerian tore out the Maenoren's throat.
By the time Silver came to her feet, all the Maenorens lay dead or dying around them.
“Some of these men were my friends,” said Cassian as he wiped blood from his cheek. “Or, I thought they were.”
Roxen clasped his shoulder. “I'm sorry.”
Cassian shook his head. “We should go. They'll send more men. This way.” He turned away from his slaughtered compatriots and led them deeper into the fortress.
Silver winced as Roxen tightened the makeshift bandage around her shoulder.
They had followed Cassian through meandering corridors and secret passages, all the while avoiding the traitorous Maenoren soldiers searching for the intruders.
He had led them to a small storage room to catch their breath before seeking the captured Regent.
Roxen leaned against a dusty couch after he'd finished helping Silver. “What now? Even if we rescue Seperun, how will we escape?”
Cassian wiped sweat from his brow. “We must hope that Marielana managed to send a message to Davin, or the closest stationed troops. Revine's men can't hope to hold out forever against a more sizable force.”
“If that's
true,” said Arlo, “why would he make such a move at all?”
Cassian considered his answer. “Two reasons. He believes if he kills Seperun, then this new government will die with him. Cut off the head of the snake and all that. But he's also counting on other nobles joining him in supporting Rhalen's claim in the power vacuum he'll create.”
“And you don't think that will happen?” Arlo crossed his arms.
“I'm sure some would—some likely already have—but no. I believe most Maenorens, including the noble classes, want to be free of Demetrian tyranny for good. If we can save the Regent and the castle can be taken back, then this coup will fizzle.”
“Then let's stop talking and get it done,” Haerian growled. “Silver, you know the Regent's scent?”
“Yes, but it will be nearly impossible to track him from afar in this sprawling castle.”
“If Revine has any brains, he'll have Seperun in one of the towers. They have only one way in or out, and the stairs make for easy defense. My guess is Revine surprised Seperun in his own quarters, at the top of the southeast tower. That's where he appeared to the common folk, from Seperun's balcony.”
A quarter hour later, Silver's nose proved Cassian's guess correct. They had made their way through another secret passage. This one ran parallel to the corridor leading to Seperun's tower and, as they approached the tapestry shielding the exit onto the main hallway, Seperun's strong, earthy scent carried over the currents, tainted with fear.
“They have him,” Silver whispered to the others. “I smell blood, but he's alive. I'm certain of it.”
“He's not alone, either,” Arlo grunted back.
He was right. Countless guards filled the hallway in front of them, no doubt extending up the staircase leading to Seperun's quarters. It was suicide.
Silver closed her eyes, thinking. “We need a better plan than barging out and attacking.”
“A diversion would help,” offered Cassian. “Some guards would stay behind of course, but enough might be lured away to give us a chance. We could split up?”
“I don't think that will be necessary.” Arlo sniffed the air.
Silver scented the currents and listened to a faint sound growing stronger. “Someone's coming.”
“Traitors!” A voice bellowed down the hall.
“Daveed?” Cassian gulped. “What is he doing?”
“Listen.” Silver pressed closer to the tapestry, peeking through its edge. “He might give us an opening.”
Daveed stood several tail-lengths down the corridor. His shaven head was bruised and bloodied. “Face me!” He shouted to the men guarding Seperun's tower.
They answered with laughter.
“Lieutenant Junian,” began one, “face it. This little experiment has gone on long enough. It's time we return to the way things have always been.”
“You truly want another Demetrian on the throne? Are you mad or simply that hateful?”
“Just realistic. Democracy is a fool's errand. Trusting common folk—women—to choose our leader? That's madness, and it's time for it to die.”
Daveed raised his sword. “Democracy cannot die until her last defender does.”
“Well then, let's put her out of her misery.”
All but two of the guards standing by the door stampeded down the hall toward Daveed.
“Now!” Silver cried as she jumped out from their hiding place. She formed and attacked the nearest Maenoren from behind.
Chaos and panic filled the narrow space as her allies poured out, surprising the treacherous guards.
Daveed groaned.
Silver couldn't see him. The other men blocked her view.
Cassian pushed past her. “I have to help Daveed! Get to the Regent, please!”
We'll cover you, Alphena, Haerian snarled as she dispatched an opponent.
Silver turned tail and raced toward the tower door.
Roxen joined her and together, they pounced on the pair of guards by the door.
For one moment, it was as if she were fighting beside Bayne again. But any relief fled the moment she shifted and tried to wrench open the door.
“It's locked!” Silver cursed. Revine had to have heard the commotion below, but the coward had not risked opening the door to send reinforcements. She pulled on the handle with all her might, but it was no use.
“Silver!” Roxen rifled through the pockets of the fallen guards. He tossed her a keyring.
She jammed in key after key, searching for the match.
Some of the guards broke through Arlo and Haerian.
Roxen leaped to meet them.
Silver blocked it all out. There had to be at least fifty keys. Her hands shook as he flipped through them. What if this key were not there?
Finally, one fit.
She slammed the door open and charged up the stairs. She formed wolf, barreling through the few guards posted along the curving staircase.
Roxen caught up with her once they reached the top landing. Silver took her human form, leaning against the wall to catch her breath.
With a nod from Roxen, she reached forward to open the door to Seperun's chambers.
It fell open from within before she touched it.
“Welcome.” A well-dressed Maenoren man called to them from where he stood several tail-lengths into the chamber. He held Markus Seperun beside him, a dagger pointed at the Regent's throat. “Do come in.”
Silver and Roxen entered, casting their gazes around the room.
The man holding Seperun stood near the back, in front of a glass door leading to a balcony.
Crossbow-armed guards lined the walls, three on each side.
The Fenearens raised their arms.
Two women sat on a chaise, surveying the scene. One was decades older than Silver, though her severe, dark eyes were clear with understanding and malice. The younger Maenoren beside her smiled with painted red lips.
“Alphena Silverine and Beta Roxen,” the man holding the semi-conscious, gagged Seperun said. “This is a surprise.”
“Lord Revine, I presume?” Silver kept her voice low and measured. She would show no fear.
Revine inclined his head. “May I also present Lady Sherelle and Lady Emoril?”
Seperun gave a muffled groan as his eyes briefly fluttered open.
“Why have you done this?” Roxen asked the nobles. “Why betray your country?”
“I have betrayed nothing boy,” spat the older woman. “The Sherelle family have been loyal Demetrian supporters for hundreds of years. That upstart half-breed,” she pointed a withered finger at Seperun, “is the traitor.”
“Now, now my lady.” Revine backed toward the balcony. “There's no need for name-calling.”
A clock gong struck.
“It's time, Revine.” Emoril stood, adjusting her black silk gown.
Revine nodded to the guard closest to him.
The guard opened the door to the balcony.
“What are you doing?” Silver stepped forward, but paused as the arbalists aimed their weapons at her. She was fast, but was she fast enough to avoid six crossbow bolts at once?
“I promised Councilor Terayan a public execution of our common enemy. The fires have stopped—enough people have gathered for the show.”
“You still have time to stop this!” Silver said.
A commotion came from the stairs below. Someone else was approaching, but whether it would be friend or foe, Silver could not say.
Revine addressed his men. “Make sure they see this filth die, then kill them.” He dragged Seperun out onto the balcony.
“No!” Silver cried.
But Revine wasted no time. “Good people of Anhorde!” He shouted. “See what becomes of traitors!” He raised the dagger.
Screams of horror exploded from the courtyard below.
It was now or never.
Get down, Silver growled to Roxen. Silver shifted. She leaped across the room in a single bound.
In her peripheral vision, R
oxen dove behind the couch.
Crossbow bolts whizzed over her ears, impaling the floor as she ran.
Silver was on Revine before the arbalists could re-load.
Revine dropped Seperun and slashed at her with the dagger.
Silver formed human. She grabbed the blade with her bare hand. Blood sprayed as she tossed it aside.
“No!” Revine wailed.
Silver roared. She sunk her fangs into his neck and tore.
Revine's corpse folded to the ground as she stood. Silver was sure a bolt would pierce her heart at any moment, but instead she heard Cassian's voice.
“He's dead. It's over! Drop your weapons.”
Silver turned to see Cassian, Arlo, Haerian, and Daveed standing at the entrance.
Roxen stood behind Emoril and Sherelle, his claws extended.
Revine's men cast their crossbows aside.
Seperun rose to his knees, clutching his head.
Silver removed his gag and helped him stand. “Regent, are you all right?”
“Thanks to you, Alphena.”
Silver's heartbeat slowed to a near-normal rhythm.
“Cassian, Daveed.” Seperun addressed his men. “Please bind these men and escort them to the dungeon to await trial.”
“Gladly.” Cassian and Daveed set about removing the traitorous men.
“Lady Sherelle, Lady Emoril.” Seperun addressed the women still sitting on the chaise. “Your men here in the palace have been either killed or disarmed. Now, I'm going to need the names of all your conspirators.”
“Never!” Emoril spat.
“It's over,” Roxen spoke lowly.
“It isn't over,” Sherelle hissed. “Long live Rhalen Demetrian, son of Rhael II!” Faster than seemed possible for someone so frail, Sherelle pulled a dagger from her gown and threw it at Seperun's chest.
In the space of a heartbeat, Roxen lunged after the knife, but to no avail.
It spun end over end toward its target with deadly accuracy.
There was no time for thought, only instinct.
Silver shoved Seperun out of the way. She stumbled backward as the blade embedded in her chest.
“No!” Roxen's warped cries sounded in Silver's ears.
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