Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Nova
The scene outside my room was worse than anything I could have imagined.
Three guards lay dead near my door. Two with a clean slash mark and a sticky waterfall of crimson across their throats, the third slumped against the wall, a gaping puncture wound in his stomach. The stench of blood was overwhelming.
The other five who had been marching up and down the hallway all night were frozen in various states of attack and defense, some with their swords still clutched tightly in their hands.
There were no culprits to be seen.
Somehow, the assailants had pulled this off in near silence. And then, for whatever reason, they had chosen not to attack me.
Yet.
It felt like they were only trying to lure me out, just as they’d lured Aleks into the garden earlier. Toying with us. Trying to get us right where they wanted us—wherever that was.
But what choice did we have but to follow the trail of carnage they’d left?
“These aren’t dead,” Aleks muttered, feeling the pulse of one of the guards frozen in the hall.
“They look like my mother and the others did at Rose Point.”
“A spell, then.”
“And we know exactly who’s capable of this sort of spell, don’t we?
” My stomach twisted at the thought, eyes glazing over as memories of that trial in the Above came crashing in.
I still didn’t understand how the Order could create such strange, powerful spells like the one they’d anchored in the Hollow Grove—but here was more evidence of what we were truly up against, glaring right at us.
I gave my head a little shake and hurried back into my room, throwing on clothing and grabbing my sword. Aleks grabbed his weapon as well, and we set off without a word for the main part of the palace, fearing the worst.
We passed no one and nothing, eventually descending into the entry hall that was eerily silent.
We searched the space carefully, but it was entirely deserted, which made no sense; the coronation revelry had likely ended hours ago, but there should have been servants still moving about, cleaning and otherwise putting the palace back together.
Drunk and exhausted guests stumbling through the hallways.
Guards making their rounds. Some sign of life. Any sign—
“Nova.”
I turned toward Aleks, who stood by one of the tall windows flanking the front door, his hand pulling back the heavy curtain to show me something.
My hand flew to my mouth as I noticed the figure at his feet—a young woman I quickly recognized as Aveline’s niece, Sylvia.
One of the servants who had frequently tended to me since my return to the palace, who had made this palace feel warm and inviting even when I’d felt like an imposter within its walls.
How many more familiar faces were dead and stashed in shadowed corners and behind elegant drapery?
And where was her aunt?
I walked over and knelt at her side, stroking her hair—which was matted with blood—out of her face.
There was a gruesome wound gouged into the side of her head.
A tremor went through me as I noticed how similar her dark blue eyes were to Aveline’s.
She’d died with them wide open in shock.
Looking out this very window, maybe, unaware of her assassin until it was too late.
Probably because she was too busy staring at the horror on the other side of the foggy glass.
There were several more dead bodies strewn across the lawn. Some wore the colors of my guard. Others were dressed in the fine clothes of nobles and dignitaries who hadn’t made it far enough to escape.
Hands shaking, I pulled the curtain back over Sylvia and took a step back. “We have to find the others. My brother, and…”
I heard a voice in my head, calling my name, and I spun around.
Phantom—who had spent the evening at Captain Voss’s side, helping him patrol—had appeared in the foyer.
He gave an anxious whimper and raced toward us, his movements clumsier than usual.
He collided with me in a tangle of limbs and fur, body wiggling and tail thrashing despite his obvious distress.
Clearly relieved to see me, even if he would never admit it.
Thankfully, he was in one piece with no obvious injuries. But there was someone else’s blood splattered across his fur, turning it darker and shinier in places. His paws were stained as well; he’d left a faint trail of prints across the pearlescent grey floor.
“What’s happened, Phantom?”
He fixed his bright eyes on mine, and he pressed only one word into my mind at first: (Marius.)
It took some work to calm him down—I’d never seen him rattled like this—but eventually I managed to sort through the rambling words he was pushing into my mind, to put together a fractured picture of how the attack had unfolded.
How the Drynland King had turned on us the moment the opportunity presented itself, his soldiers joining forces with Order figures who had seemingly materialized from nowhere.
Many of our guests had evacuated, at least; most of them had fled into Tarnath, following the lead of Lord Brennan.
Some of our soldiers had gone with them, establishing a more solid defensive perimeter around that city’s gates.
Others had scattered, fleeing into the night—with plans to return with reinforcements, I hoped.
Captain Voss had personally led a company of soldiers to come find me, but where that company had ended up was unclear; Phantom had lost track of them in the chaos, when he’d moved to help protect Eamon and his little sister as they fought their way toward safety.
He’d followed them to where they’d taken shelter, but then he’d caught my scent and made his way to me.
I went to the massive front doors, throwing them open with a violent motion made more powerful by the adrenaline rushing through me.
Stepping outside, the eerie quiet was replaced by the sounds of distant screaming and clashing weapons, along with odd cracks and wails that I suspected might have been more of the Order’s corrupted spells going off.
Aleks followed me, standing close at my shoulder, his hand on his sword.
“Our fears are confirmed, then,” he said, after I had quickly shared all that Phantom had told me. “I wonder who else the Order has tried to sway? And what did they promise them in exchange for their help infiltrating this palace?”
“No telling.”
“Fucking traitors.”
The word burned through me, filling me with rage.
But it wasn’t only toward those traitors.
Part of it was fury toward myself, too—for not navigating the emerging political situation more carefully, for not seeing the warning signs.
For not being able to convince my detractors of my ability to control our world’s magic into something strong enough to save them all.
A crown was merely a symbol.
I had so much left to prove.
“Marius, and others like him, are desperate for power,” I thought aloud. “It’s no wonder they bought into whatever lies the Void Order fed them. My brother and I didn’t lie to them. We spoke of sacrifice and hard-won victories to come, not false promises of easy conquest and unlimited power.”
“And one is infinitely more tempting than the other for weaklings like Marius,” Aleks muttered. His gaze narrowed, scanning the yard.
I swallowed hard, thinking of all the times I’d dismissed Marius as merely irritating rather than genuinely dangerous.
But it wouldn’t do me any good, standing here lamenting my mistakes and trying to determine all the places where I’d made wrong choices. I needed to focus on my next step. And, after me, I knew that my brother would be the next biggest target of our enemies.
I had to find him.
And make sure he’s still alive.
I shook this last, morbid thought from my mind and knelt before Phantom, running a soothing hand over his trembling body.
“Can you lead me to Bastian?”
He hesitated a moment, fur bristling as those sounds of distant fighting grew louder.
A cold wind blew, low and haunting, as if mourning the dead scattered around us.
Phantom lifted his pointed nose into the frigid breeze and started hunting for my brother’s scent.
After a few false starts, he seemed to find what he was looking for and shot off into the dark.
We sprinted after him, trying not to get distracted by the sounds and smells of the battle unfolding in the distance, pressing toward us like a rising tide.
Phantom took us to one of the side entrances, through the formal dining room it led into, and then into the hall beyond and up a narrow, twisting staircase to the second floor. On the landing, we were met by a small group of soldiers, most of whom looked ragged and battle-worn.
They wore the emblem of the Drynlands—a black lion standing on two legs with its claws extended, mouth open in a roar.
I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t care what they were doing this deep in my palace, in a wing that should have been secure.
Thoughts of their disgusting king flooded my mind, mixing with images of the night’s mounting collection of dead bodies.
The blood on these soldiers’ own swords looked fresh, too.
Abundant. They raised those swords, as if they intended to add my blood to them.
One of them stepped forward.
The next thing I knew, Grimnor had pierced him in the throat. Dark wisps of energy bled from the steel as I pressed it through, becoming solid, sharp barbs that helped me cut a path that was viciously wider and deeper.
As the man crumpled at my feet, it set off a predictable chain reaction.
The soldiers didn’t bother with questions or words of any kind, either; they moved as one to avenge their fallen comrade, charging toward me with a recklessness that might have frightened me if I hadn’t been so furious and numb.
More were flooding in from the hallway behind them.
I didn’t take the time to count them all. I only noted how outnumbered we were, and then I flicked the excess gore from Grimnor and readied it for my next swing.
I took a single deep breath. Exhaled it with power and purpose. Shadows rose around my body, writhing in a violent dance, blocking out the light from the flickering lamps along the walls.
Phantom drew closer to me, shadows of his own flickering around his form. His darkness blended with mine, until the only clear thing setting him apart was the terrifying gleam of his eyes and teeth.
Most of the soldiers stumbled back at the sight of us.
Aleks intercepted the first soldier who found the courage to attack me. He grabbed him by the front of his coat, spinning him around and shoving his sword between the man’s shoulder blades, then dislodged it by kicking him down the stairs.
As the body thumped and rolled down the steps, Phantom and my shadows surged forward. I moved in their wake, cutting through the line of enemies with brutal efficiency.
More and more blood coated Grimnor’s blade.
It began to hum, its ghostly white energy joined by twisting tendrils of pale blue—Lorien, making himself known.
My shadows seemed to respond to his presence, growing darker and more aggressive.
Power surged in a dizzying spiral around me.
I wasn’t entirely sure where it was coming from, but I grabbed hold of it all the same, letting it flow through my body and into every strike.
It was a quick massacre after that.
Aleks and Phantom still moved alongside me, relentlessly tearing our enemies down, but I lost track of them and everything else as I slashed, parried, and stabbed.
When I finally stopped, chest heaving and blood staining most of my clothing, a pile of bodies littered the landing and the stairs below it.
Eerie silence settled once more.
I was still too numb to think about what I’d done. About the lives I’d taken. I just kept hurrying onward—until I noticed Aleks wasn’t following me.
Skidding to a stop, I twisted around to find him still standing over the ones we’d slain.
He was perfectly still, his sword held loosely at his side, his head tilted as though listening to something only he could hear. The veins in his wrists and neck were glowing faintly through his skin, that same cold shade of violet I’d seen earlier.
Grimnor shook in my hand.
My breath caught in my throat as I realized where we were in the palace—how close we were to the vault where the two shards of Lorien’s soul had been placed for safekeeping. A chill raced through me; it felt like Lorien’s ghost was watching me from beside the balcony doors again.
But there was no one here except Aleks and me, the corridor so empty and silent that my footsteps echoed as I moved uncertainly back toward him.
“Aleks? Are you okay?”
He waved off my concern, rebalancing the sword in his hand and turning to follow me. He never met my eyes. Images of our last conversation in my bedroom flared in my mind. He’d been so close to leaving. So ready to sacrifice whatever he had to in order to keep me safe.
But he was still here. Still fighting at my side.
There was another war still clearly being waged within him—one that seemed to be growing louder.
More violent. It was a war I couldn’t focus on, though, because a breath later, Phantom came to an abrupt halt at the end of the hallway and let out a sharp bark.
He was urging my attention forward, toward whatever he’d seen around the corner.
I rounded that corner and immediately spotted Bastian. He was surrounded, as was Thalia. Both of them bound in chains, kneeling, with no less than a dozen Order members on either side of them.
And Severin Thane stood at the center of them all, holding a knife to my brother’s throat.