“Maybe not,” I say.
“Just like the other attack wasn’t an ambush?” he says angrily. “If we ride onto the grounds we’ll be surrounded. We should return for reinforcements.”
“Rhen was preparing for war, just as we were.”
“We have ten soldiers. Will your magic stop two thousand?”
Well, he’s got me there. I look back at Iisak. “You’re certain?”
“Their camps dwarf the castle territory.” He pauses. “They do not seem to be on high alert.” He glances at Solt. “I do not suspect a trap.”
Solt spits at the ground. “You didn’t suspect one two days ago either, scraver.”
Iisak growls.
“Enough,” I say. “Iisak, was there any sign of the enchantress?”
“No.” He pauses. “There are dozens of burned corpses along the tree line beside the castle. Many of them wear gold and red.”
Silver hell.
“Let her go in and get him,” says Solt. “If it’s so safe.”
“I will,” Harper says from the darkness, her tone backed by steel. “I’m not afraid. Are you, Captain?”
He snaps back at her in Syssalah, and it’s probably good that I don’t know what he’s saying. I glare at him. “Enough, Captain.”
If the soldiers aren’t on alert, we could possibly slip in without being detected. Then again, if Lilith is there, she rarely does anything small. She could cause a huge ruckus and draw the entire army down upon us.
The true irony of this situation is that I wish Rhen were here to strategize this whole thing.
I take a slow breath. “Jake.”
“Ready.”
At least someone is. “We’ll divide into thirds. One to stand sentry on the grounds, one to guard the entrance to the castle, one to breach and find Rhen and the enchantress. I want you at the entrance.”
“Got it.”
“I want to breach,” says Harper.
I inhale to answer, and she rushes on. “I’m going, Grey. I’m not helpless. I’m not powerless. But she took him from me twice now, and if you’re not going to save him, then I’m going to—”
“Fine,” I say.
She clamps her mouth shut. Then, “Oh.”
I look at Solt. “Pick your soldiers to stand sentry and give the others to Jake. I only need one with me.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” His eyes are flinty. He turns his head. “Recruit,” he barks. “You’re breaching the castle.”
Tycho rides forward. His eyes are wide, some combination of hopeful and worried. “Yes, sir.”
I’m not sure what to say.
This feels like an insult, like a threat. But I did tell Solt to pick.
And Tycho stopped the assault the other day.
I think of my conversation with Noah, when he said, He’s only fifteen.
And my cavalier response. When I was fifteen, I was running my family’s farm.
And how did that turn out, Grey?
My family’s farm failed. I failed.
I don’t want Tycho to fail.
I imagine him facing Lilith. I remember when I was arrested at Worwick’s Tourney, how Tycho tried to save me, and Dustan caught him by the neck and choked him until I yielded. Tycho flailed like a fish on a hook.
But yesterday, he held a bow like it was an extension of his arm. He did not flinch in the face of violence. I’ll cover you, he said, and he did, giving me time to use magic.
I put out a hand. “Well chosen.”
Tycho blushes, but he reaches out and clasps my hand in his own.
I give him a nod, then look at the others. “I don’t want to lose the darkness. Let’s find a place to tether the horses.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
RHEN
I haven’t slept in days.
Maybe weeks.
The night sky is full of stars outside my window, the same stars I’ve watched forever. I didn’t realize how lucky I was that Grey remained with me for every day of the curse, because this loneliness, this isolation, is profound. The castle has never been so silent, so dark, so cold.
I can see a bare reflection of my face in the window, the ruination of my eye, my cheek, more clear than I’d like, but I no longer care. I wish she’d taken them both.
“You should adorn yourself in armor,” says Lilith. I don’t know how long she’s been here, but she’s grown frustrated with me. Instead of lightly cajoling or downright mocking, she now speaks to me through clenched teeth, with fire in her voice.
It likely has something to do with my steadfast refusal to cater to her whims any longer. I don’t move from the window. “Wear it yourself.”
“Soldiers from Syhl Shallow will invade in minutes.”
“In minutes?” I say without moving. “Has war found me at last?”
“I have brought your sword, Your Highness.” The reflection of the weapon glints in the window. “Do you not want to defend yourself?”
“No.”
“You have two regiments stationed alongside the castle, yet you will not rise up to lead them?”
I turn and face her. “If you want them led, lead them yourself.”
She glares at me for a long moment. Then she huffs. “You wish for me to face Grey myself? Very well.” She lifts the sword, laying the blade along her shoulder.
“Wait.” The word is wrenched from me, and it causes me pain to speak it.
Grey. Grey is here.
I’m terrified. I’m relieved. My chest is so tight, my heart pounding so fast. Every beat seems to pulse his name. Grey. Grey. Grey. He is my enemy. He is my brother. He is here. Here. I can’t breathe.
“He’s here to kill you,” she hisses.
Yes. Yes, of course he is.
This is war.
“He will come,” she whispers, “and he will draw his sword, and he will try to take everything that is yours with the edge of his blade.”
Fear spirals through my gut, until I worry I will never breathe again. “You have taken everything that is mine.”
“Not yet.” She runs a finger along the edge of the sword, and blood wells up. “Think of your people, Your Highness. I could bring you the head of every single soldier who has sworn to protect you.”
I stare at that line of blood. Not yet. She’s right. She hasn’t taken everything.
Grey is here.
To kill me.
“Think of all the bodies you can drag, Your Highness.”
My eyes close. I draw a shuddering breath.
“Grey is here to take your throne,” Lilith says. “If he is victorious, I will simply kill each of your subjects, one by one, while you watch. While their former prince looks on. Each child. Each parent. Each woman. Each man. Limb from limb. Sinew by sinew.”
I flinch.
Once again, she threatens the downfall of my entire kingdom, while soldiers from Syhl Shallow are banging on my door, threatening war.
Only this time, I’m alone. Harper is gone. Grey is my enemy.
I draw a long breath. My head is pounding, and my chest aches.
But I reach for the sword.
My boots strike the marble floor, echoing through the empty hallways.
My hands are trembling. My armor is heavy. Or maybe I’m weak.
I promised Harper I would try for peace.
This is not peace.
As always, there is no solution here. No way out. No way to win. No matter what path I try, fate always places Lilith at the end of it. I will have to fight, and one of us will fall.
I try to find the cold edges of my thoughts. She’s taken everything from me. This should not matter. Grey would not hesitate to kill me. It’s proof enough that he’s here.
This man is your brother.
The memory of Harper’s words steals my breath, and I stop short in the hallway, gasping. I have to put my hand on the wall.
Lilith hasn’t taken everything.
I hear a whisper of sound from somewhere distant in the castle. A s
crape, followed by a creak of wood. I freeze. My limbs straighten, almost of their own will. My hand finds the hilt of my sword.
I nearly cannot hear over the pounding of my heart.
I count to ten, to twenty, trying to slow my breathing. In all the years we were trapped by the curse, I never feared invasion, I never feared anyone. I always had Grey by my side.
Now I’m alone.
Another scrape, maybe a footstep. Closer.
I stop breathing altogether. Every heartbeat pulses with agony. With fear. As always, there is no way out. No way to win.
A whisper carries on the air. Maybe a word. A hushed order. The sound of movement.
They’re in the castle. A team of soldiers, perhaps. Dozens. Hundreds.
It doesn’t matter. My heart is in my throat. I stride forward to meet them, turning the corner for the grand staircase with my hand on the hilt of my sword.
I nearly walk straight into Grey.
My thoughts stumble and panic. He’s just there, his hand on the hilt of his own sword. His free hand is up behind him, telling soldiers to wait, possibly. He looks a bit travel-worn and road-weary, and his eyes are cool and dark, but he’s here. He’s here. Weapons at the ready, clad in the green and black of Syhl Shallow. A tiny gold crown is embedded in the armor, right over his heart.
He’s here to kill you.
Just as she said.
Grey sees me and stops short. The world seems to shrink down to this moment, all the seasons of the curse narrowing down to him and me in an empty castle. Time and again, I told him to kill me. To save my people. To spare them. To end this. Time and again, he refused. My breathing is a loud rush in my ears, barely drowning the pounding of my heart.
There is no path to victory here.
Well, maybe one. I draw my sword.
Grey’s gaze sharpens in alarm, but he’s always been quick and deadly, and today is no different. His blade is drawn and aiming for mine before I can blink.
I step back, out of reach, and he cuts a path through the air.
He comes after me, but I drop my sword. It clatters to the marble, the steel ringing through the empty hall.
I follow it, dropping to my knees on the cold floor. Raising my hands.
“I yield.” My voice breaks. “Grey, I yield. Forgive me. I beg of you. Please. Kill me. Please.” I’m babbling, but his eyes are so dark, burning with emotion. He hasn’t moved. “Please, Grey. You must. End it. She killed—” My voice breaks again. “Harper. She’s gone. Lilith can’t—she can’t— Please, kill me.”
He takes a step forward, and I gasp. Grey was never one to hesitate.
But his free hand reaches out and grasps mine. His grip is tight, and it’s startling that I remember it, that it’s familiar: from a thousand different sparring matches that ended with me in the dirt, from the times I would tumble from a horse, from the times Lilith would leave me in a tortured heap and Grey would drag me to my feet.
From the time, the last time, when I stood on the castle parapets, terrified to jump.
When Grey reached out and took my hand.
His breathing is as fast as mine.
“You’re a prince of Emberfall,” he says, and his voice is rough. “You kneel to no one.”
I stare up at him.
And then, without preamble or explanation, Harper appears around the corner, curls tumbling loose from her plaits. She’s speaking in a rushed whisper. “I told Tycho I am not—”
Her gaze falls on me, and her face begins to crumple. “Rhen. Oh, Rhen.”
I must be dead. Or dreaming. This is a new way for Lilith to torture me. Surely.
I look between her and Grey. His hand is still tight on mine.
“You’re alive,” I whisper.
“I’m alive.” She has to brush away a tear. “I got away. I went for help.”
I look back at Grey. My thoughts cannot process all of this emotion. “You have to get her out of here. Lilith is here. She will kill us all.”
“Maybe not.” He gives my hand a tug. “Get off your knees, Brother. There’s a battle to be won.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
LIA MARA
I’ve never led an army. The armor feels stiff and unfamiliar, but I don’t mind the weight if it means I am protected. I ride with the generals at the back, and we join with my regiment on the other side of the mountain pass. Rhen has stationed his own soldiers here, as promised, but rumors fly about the confrontation with the Magesmith Prince, how he defeated an ambush but left the soldiers from Emberfall alive.
I remember the first time Grey and I rode together through these valleys, when we offered Rhen his sixty days. The people of Emberfall were eager to greet him, even with me at his side. There are many stories of the lives Grey saved in Blind Hollow, how he stood against the Royal Guard to protect the people. My generals want to attack the waiting regiment, but I wonder if there is a better way.
If Nolla Verin were here, she’d order a full-scale assault, but that’s why I left her in the palace and I rode with the army.
I ask my generals to send a message to Rhen’s regiment, asking for a meeting with their officers.
Clanna Sun is at my side, her tone worried. “They could attack, Your Majesty. You are alerting them to our presence.”
She is the only advisor I have brought with me—and the only person in the castle who knows of Ellia Maya’s treachery. She served my mother since before I was born, and she is practically more loyal to Syhl Shallow than I am myself. I may not like Clanna Sun, but I do trust her. “If they attack,” I say, “we will retaliate. But we will try for peace first.”
Their response comes in less than an hour, and their officers arrive in less than two. They’re all men, which doesn’t surprise me, but they’re led by a lieutenant, which does. The man is missing an arm, and he eyes my soldiers warily.
Noah is in the officers’ tent with us, and he looks over in surprise. “Jamison.”
Jamison looks startled to see him. “Doctor Noah.”
“You know this man?” I say.
“A little,” says Noah. He hesitates. “He lost his arm when Syhl Shallow invaded the first time.” Another pause. “And he fought in the battle when the creature drove your mother’s forces out.”
“Ah.” I look at Jamison. “So you have brought your grievances, Lieutenant?”
“No.” He glances at Noah, then back at me. “I was among the soldiers who attempted to overthrow Grey’s small force a few days ago.”
At that, Noah rises to stand at my side. “You saw Jake.”
“I did.” Jamison glances at me. “As well as Grey.” He pauses. “We had them badly outnumbered, but he used magic to stop the attack.”
I can’t tell if he’s angry about the magic or angry that they weren’t successful—or if he’s here for another reason entirely. “We understand the enchantress has returned to Emberfall,” I say. “And she intends to take control of Prince Rhen.”
“We heard the same rumor from one of our spies,” says Jamison. He glances at my soldiers again, his expression uneasy. “She was in the castle when the enchantress attacked—but she died in the assault.”
A spy. I bristle. “Did this spy tell you that Grey was leading a force into Emberfall to stop the enchantress?”
“We didn’t know that’s why Grey was here.” His gaze returns to mine, and his voice is weighted. “She said he was here because the time has come for war.”
The word war seems to add a layer of tension to the air, one that doesn’t need to be there.
“It has,” I say, “but I was hoping we could find a path to peace.”
Jamison takes a breath. “I’ve heard rumors about that, how you tried to find peace with Rhen once before.”
“Those rumors are true.”
He hesitates. “I’ve fought at Grey’s side. More than once. He is a man of honor.”
“Yes,” I agree. “He is.”
“And he could have killed us with his magic, I�
��m sure of it.”
“Yes. He could have.”
“Our spy said your mother’s army is no less vicious under your rule.”
“Your spy was correct,” I say. “My army is no less vicious.” I pause. “That doesn’t mean they need to show their teeth.”
“Then you are truly here to discuss peace with Prince Rhen?”
“I am.”
If I can. If Grey is successful. If he survives. If he defeats the enchantress.
My stomach begins to churn, and I fight to keep my face neutral.
Jamison glances at the officers with him. “There are regiments surrounding Ironrose Castle, preparing for an attack from Syhl Shallow. If you are truly here for peace, we can offer an escort to Ironrose for you and an entourage of twenty men.” He clears his throat and looks around at my senior officers, the majority of whom are female. “Or … women. As you will. Our regiment will hold its position if yours will.”
“Absolutely not,” says Clanna Sun in Syssalah.
“Yes,” I say to Jamison. “We will be ready in an hour.”
“They have thousands of soldiers readied for war,” Clanna Sun hisses when I turn away. “And you are our queen.”
“I know.” I feel a bit breathless. “Choose twenty to accompany us.”
I stop by Noah before I step out of the tent. “Jake is alive,” I say quietly.
He nods—then grimaces. “At least … he was.”
I reach out and squeeze his hand. “He still is.”
He squeezes back. “You’re making peace happen.”
I blush before I can help it. “Grey would be thanking fate. Perhaps we stumbled on some luck that Grey encountered a soldier he once knew.”
“It’s not luck.” Noah’s voice is steady, somber. “You don’t luck into that kind of trust, Lia Mara. You earn it with every minute you do the right thing. So does Grey.” He gives my hand another squeeze. “Go. Bring my boyfriend back to me.”
“Bring him back? Noah, you must come with me.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
GREY
We’ve retreated to Rhen’s chambers. The hallways are still soaked with the blood of everyone the enchantress killed, and the castle smells like death and decay. It seems Rhen is missing an eye, but it’s hard to tell, because so much dirt and clotted blood cake to his face and hair. There are four long, filthy scabs that drag from his hairline across his right eye and down his cheek to curve into his jaw. The signs of Lilith’s handiwork are obvious.
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