Graymere only smiled. Chills grated down my skin as the shadows in the hall slithered toward him, pooling at his feet. They billowed up, swirling like black fog until they took human shape. Their swords formed next, and glinted off the candlelight when they solidified.
“The girl is mine,” he whispered to his shades. “Kill the young kings.”
I glanced back in time to see the shades running toward Ren and Enzo as they tried to get to me.
“Your brother should have been dead long ago,” Graymere said. “I thank you for bringing him here.”
The darkness inside me grew, and I clenched my teeth against a response. I raised my sword and tried to find the single-minded focus I needed, pushing away the distraction of the surrounding battle.
Graymere’s form wavered in the dim hall. He would have to divide his power to fight me and control the shades. If I could keep his attention on me, Enzo and Ren could defeat the shades faster.
“Nice sword, Graymere,” I taunted. “I bet you’re missing yours about now.”
Disdain twisted his features, and a blast of something black and writhing tried to strangle me from the inside. From the tethers. I stumbled back, breathless from the hatred Graymere had pushed into me. He glided forward, his sword striking like a snake. The clanging of our blades reverberated off the stone walls and into my bones. Darkness from his tether bled into me as he attacked, fighting against my magic. I countered with a swing at his side, but I was too slow.
His blade nicked my shoulder and broke the connection at last. We circled each other. I was panting; he was smiling.
“It’s easier when you focus on the tethers, you know,” he said, holding a conversation as if he weren’t trying to kill me. I was still out of breath, so I humored him.
“What’s easier?”
He smiled. “How do you think I tore the connection between you and your rat brother? How do you think I found you in the dungeon? Hundreds of years in the Ice Deserts gave me plenty of time to figure out how to access our family’s bond.”
We paced around each other until I could see my brother and Enzo still fighting the two shades. Guards fought alongside them, keeping the mage’s men at bay.
“I could teach you how to use your magic, Jennesara. You could be great.”
My eyes snapped back to his. “Great like you?” I scoffed. “No, thank you.”
His evil brimmed on the edge of my consciousness. I conjured every good and light thing I could think of—Enzo, Chiara, Mari, my brother, my father—and I pushed against that evil.
Graymere’s chin tilted down. “So be it.”
He attacked again. The metal and musk of battle faded. Magic swirled within, the power growing and pushing at its confines, the light inside me battling his darkness.
The mage swung at my legs and flung his magic at me with his other hand, but I twisted away. The moves that Master Hafa had taught me came back effortlessly. I wasn’t thinking; I only acted, my body taking over with its own memory. The magic Graymere pulsed out was sometimes hot, sometimes cold, and sometimes weighted like lead. And sometimes it made my ring vibrate unnaturally. I had to stretch and change directions to catch it all, but the more magic I caught, the hotter my ring became, adding to the magic burning inside.
My sword stayed in sync with his, meeting his blade each time he attacked. I channeled strands of magic into my arms, my legs, willing the tingling burn of focused power to strengthen my muscles and quicken my reflexes.
We twisted around each other, spiraling in our own personal dance. But I could never get close enough. So I shielded myself and became invisible, changed directions, released the shield, and swung again.
Graymere’s face shone with sweat now, but it took everything I had just to meet his blows. His evil pushed harder against the light inside me, hollowing me from the inside out. My leg ached, but I swung and dodged again and again.
He stepped back from the fight and prowled around me. I watched, balanced to spring away.
“My cousin’s artifacts will not give you the strength to defeat me, young one,” he snarled. The hand at his side spread wide and reached toward me. I felt something start to tear, as if I were being pulled out of my body. I gasped and lifted my hand—the ring snapped the connection—then shielded myself from view to get a few steps farther away.
The battle between the mage’s men and guards edged closer.
Graymere gnashed his teeth and pulled a shadow from the wall. It morphed into a black blade. Now with a sword in each hand, he swung his head from side to side, searching.
“You can’t hide from me.” He waved his black blade in a wide arc, blasting the stone walls and sconces.
He lunged at me with both swords flying. I spun, the ice in my leg pulsing with every heartbeat. I dropped the shield to conserve what magic I had left.
Sweat ran down my back. The mage kept advancing, faster than I could summon my magic. I saw his black blade undercutting my guard and pulled my sword down to block it. But that left my side exposed, and his silver blade sliced into me. I braced for the pain I knew was coming, but he groaned and stumbled back before he could push the blade deeper. His black sword disintegrated into nothing and he snarled a curse I’d never heard.
The clang of a sword hitting the ground reverberated in the hall behind me. Ren shouted, “Where did he go?”
One shade down. Now Ren and Enzo could fight the last remaining shade together.
But could I last until then? Blood trailed hot and slick down my side and shoulder. My leg throbbed. Graymere grinned and wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow. His brown-clad men edged closer as the palace guard attempted to keep them from gaining ground.
Graymere had been honing his craft for hundreds of years, waiting to unleash his power again. And I was all that stood in his way. Even if my sword and ring had once belonged to Kais, they wouldn’t be enough. I wouldn’t be enough. He’d find the Black Library. And the world would fall.
Graymere’s edges blurred, and hopelessness surged into me as he advanced. He let out a primal scream and raised his sword.
In that moment, I saw a vision of what he would do, what the world would become after he killed me. I saw Ren’s death and Enzo’s, my kingdom of warriors enslaved. I saw—
Survive. Master Hafa’s voice echoed in my mind.
I saw Mari’s face as she took my face in her sooty hands. I believe in you.
The look in Enzo’s eyes right after he’d kissed me.
The last hug I gave my father.
I shoved Graymere’s evil out of my body, following the path of our connection, pushing the love and the light closer and closer to him.
Our blades met with a crack that should have broken the walls. I pulled down the barriers around the magic inside, letting it fill every part of me as I swung my sword. I fought for my father, for Aleinn, for all the people I couldn’t save. My ring was like fire, its magic flooding me with speed and strength and agility.
The Gray Mage pushed my blade away and stumbled back out of my reach.
I caught a flash of Luc and Enzo fighting off a circle of men—the shade must have disintegrated—but I kept my focus on Graymere.
The connection between us was weakening, but his well of evil seemed endless. And I was nearing the edges of my magic.
One of Graymere’s men swung his club at my head from the side, and I barely deflected it. Another advanced in his place, forcing me away from Graymere. I kept swinging, but there was always another club, another sword, in my way.
Then I felt something pressed into the back of my trousers.
“Mari said to give you this.” I recognized Ren’s voice. He engaged the men in front of me, drawing their attack away, defending my back against a wave of others pushing down the corridor.
I shielded myself and ran, falling onto my kne
es to avoid the swinging clubs, sliding toward Graymere. I cut off the magic to my shield and slashed my blade through the fabric of his gray cloak and into his thigh, giving him a wound to match mine. The darkness inside me whispered to keep hurting him, to give him a wound for each of my own. He parried my next swing, and I rolled away so I could stand and face him again.
He snarled and limped toward me, swinging his blade. My magic burned and stretched, pushing me faster.
The darkness whispered again, to make him pay for what he had done to me, to my kingdom. To my father.
He lowered his silver blade and blasted magic toward me. I had to reach to catch it, and he swung at the gap. I twisted, putting all my weight on my injured leg. He slid his cross guard down, tangling it with mine and pulling me close.
“You and I aren’t so different, cousin,” he growled with a sneer. “But you cannot win.”
“I already have,” I whispered. I yanked the dagger from my belt and plunged it between his ribs, into what was left of his shriveled gray heart.
I remembered how I’d felt in Irena’s home. How Yesilia had vouched for me. My father’s embrace, Ren’s support, Enzo’s love, Chiara’s friendship, Mari’s trust, Aleinn’s sacrifice. I took every good memory and shoved it into him through the tether, banishing his darkness once and for all.
We may have shared the same blood, the same power, but I was not like him and never would be.
His eyes glossed over, and the tether connecting us snapped. A wave of energy blew me off my feet and into the wall. The impact sucked the air out of my lungs and left my ears ringing. I sat there dazed, staring at the men in the hall who had also been flattened by the wave. My hand still clutched the dagger I’d plunged into Graymere’s heart. I dropped it next to me and wiped his black blood off my hand. I would never allow myself to become what he had become.
Two hands came down on my shoulders. I flinched and brought my sword up.
“Easy—it’s me,” Ren said in a soothing voice.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?” My eyes closed in exhaustion.
Ren moved his hand to my side, where blood was flowing out, and a gentle warmth blossomed on the surface. When he took his hand away, the bleeding had stopped.
I sighed in relief. “You are a lot faster than me at that.”
Ren chuckled and kissed my forehead. The palace guards—and Luc—were corralling the mage’s soldiers who were trying to flee. Graymere’s body sprawled across the floor, his lifeless eyes staring right through me, his gray robes splayed out around him.
“Jenna!” Enzo fought his way through the crowded corridor. He knelt and took my face in his hands.
He didn’t say anything, only grinned his perfectly imperfect grin and pulled me into a hug. I closed my eyes and welcomed the safety I felt in his arms.
“Easy, Enzo.” Ren pulled him away. “She used a lot of magic in that fight.”
Enzo held my shoulders, looking for more wounds. Ren glared at his hands.
“I’m okay,” I replied with a chuckle. “Just tired.”
He and Ren helped me stand, then the world tilted as Enzo swept me into his arms. “Let’s find a place for you to rest.”
I refused to wait any longer, so they let me rest inside a carriage. A jolt in the road woke me sometime near dawn. I was tucked up against Enzo, with Ren on the bench across from us.
We were racing as fast as we could along Turia’s roads heading north, a storm brewing behind us. Luc and a handful of others rode alongside our caravan.
I stretched and took inventory of my limbs—they hurt, but they were all there. The mage’s blast had collapsed part of the palace, and while the carriage was being prepared, Ren had helped Yesilia heal those caught in the rubble. He had fallen asleep the moment we left the palace.
Enzo’s arm tightened around my shoulder. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been smashed between a waterfall and a rock.” My voice was rough like sand. “But I’ll live.”
He smiled and brushed his lips across my cheek. He shot a wary gaze at Ren, and I laughed.
I leaned my head against his chest. “Mari and Chiara?”
“I was buckling on my sword after the explosion when they burst into my room saying that Koranth was chasing them and that Graymere was here. I sent them to Ren’s room, the next door down, and waited. I surprised Koranth and wounded his shoulder, but he escaped down the side stairs before I could catch him.” He paused, and foreboding filled me. “He had a shade blade, I think.”
“Cavolo,” I muttered. “That must be how he used magic against me when we first met in the hall, before Graymere got there. I assumed anyone who picked up a black blade would turn to shadow like the shades, but…” I shrugged.
“If he was Graymere’s shade, he must have died when you killed Graymere, but no one has found a body yet.” Enzo was trying to reassure me, but I don’t think either of us was convinced. “My father said they’d burn Graymere’s remains and seal away the ashes.”
We rode in silence for another hour, watching the dawn rise and letting Ren sleep. There was no time to waste if we wanted to get there before the day’s battle started.
The sun had almost crested the hills in the east when we alighted from the carriage into what had once been a wheat field. Clouds billowed to the south, blowing ever closer. We hurried through the camp to sounds of breakfast preparation and groans from the injured. A trail of wide eyes followed us—two fair-haired Hálendians and the Turian prince heir with an entourage of soldiers created quite a stir.
A man directed us to Lord Carver’s tent. He and five high captains were studying a map of the land and the positioning of Hálendi’s troops.
“Gentlemen,” I said, interrupting their conversation. “I’d like to introduce you to my brother, Prince Atháren, future king of Hálendi.”
The men stopped muttering as Ren put his fist to his shoulder out of respect and nodded in greeting. “We have come to negotiate peace.”
Grins broke through the mud and blood caked on the captains’ faces, but Lord Carver remained stoic. “And how do you plan on doing that when your generals are on the other side of the line?”
It was Enzo’s turn to convince. “We will meet them for parley. Will you come with us to advise, Lord Carver?”
He ground his teeth but nodded. “You can bring five to a parley—”
“I’m the fifth,” Luc said, and no one argued with his glare.
Carver buckled on his sword and summoned a flagman to raise a white flag. The boy rode into the trampled field separating the two kingdoms’ troops while Lord Carver, Enzo, Luc, Ren, and I waited at the edge of Turia’s line. Gray clouds hung low over the field.
“This will work, Enzo,” I whispered to him as the rider reached the middle of the field.
But the twang of an arrow sounded from the orchard that housed Hálendian tents. The flagman fell from his horse with a cry, the white flag fluttering into the mud and the horse bolting down the line.
Murmurs rippled through the Turian camp, a sound of hopelessness that died away and sank into the mud. My jaw went slack. “I don’t…How could they…?”
A sharp wind started. Ren had his hand on his sword like he would take on Hálendi’s entire army. Luc and Carver were straining to hold him back.
“What do we do now?” one of Carver’s soldiers whispered behind us.
Enzo put his hands on top of his head, eyes traveling the length of the Hálendian line, searching for another solution.
It was a white flag. How could those cowardly little—
I yanked the leather strip from my braid and let the wind untangle the strands. “Let him go, Luc.” Ren shook them off and stood next to me, but I put my hand on his when he tried to draw his sword. “You heal the flagman. I’ll take care of any more ar
rows.” I drew my sword and adjusted the leather strips to uncover the gem, the blue tint shining as the sun crested the hills beneath the clouds.
“You can’t—” Enzo started, but I shook my head.
“This is our fight. We end this today.”
Luc put a hand on Enzo’s back. “Let them go, diri. She’ll come back.”
Enzo’s jaw clenched, but he nodded.
I took Ren’s hand, and a shield of magic surrounded us. Shouts broke out from Turia’s men behind us. My magic was still replenishing, but I had enough for this.
“I’ll get us there. You heal him.”
Ren nodded, the veins in his neck bulging as he stared at our line.
We crossed into the swath of muddy field that served as a battlefield. The dead had been carried off in the night. Their blood still stained the ground.
My brother knelt in the cool mud next to the moaning flagman. The arrow had sliced deeply into the flesh of the boy’s shoulder. Ren knit it together, then whispered, “Run back to the line.”
The boy didn’t hesitate, just got up and bolted for safety.
I let the shield around us flicker and go out. We stood, brother and sister, facing our countrymen, Ren’s hands braced on his hips, my sword at the ready. A breeze lifted my hair, snapping like another white flag in the wind.
“Your king requests parley!” Ren bellowed toward the Hálendian camp.
No arrows flew from beyond the trees. No sound broke the silence.
Then, a single man emerged. Running to us. When he got close enough to see who we were, he fell to his knees. “Your Majesties!” A shout raised behind him, and cheers echoed through the field. Birds startled into flight at the edge of the orchard, black wings flapping against the wind.
The Turians remained silent.
The Hálendian man approached, but before he could say anything, Ren said, “The accords say you may bring five to parley. We will bring three more.”
The man—I recognized him, now, as Leland’s top captain—bowed and stuttered that of course we could bring three more.
I waved, and the rest of our group—Enzo, Carver, and Luc—stepped into the battlefield. My heart pounded harder, my instincts screaming at me to not let Enzo anywhere nearby.
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