Kindren tried to move Aully behind him protectively, but she was having none of it. She gathered herself and twirled around. Her fingers flexed, words of magic forming on her tongue. With Kindren here she felt powerful, and she knew she had nothing to fear. If she could kill Carskel and Ethir quickly, they could sneak down to where her people were being held, gather the rest of her family, and flee back to Ang before anyone was the wiser.
But no electricity sparked at her fingertips, no warmth filled her belly. She couldn’t feel the weave anywhere around her.
Carskel shook his head, pointing to the floor and ceiling. Aully followed his finger, saw the markings scattered all over, a series of symbols she had never noticed before.
“Your own home,” he said, “and you don’t even know the rules. This is the study, child, a library filled with ancient books and ancient knowledge. No magic is allowed in here. The runes demand it. It’d be a terrible tragedy if, for example, a headstrong elven girl summoned a bit of careless fire.”
Aully’s spirits sank. Even Kindren reaching down and grasping her hand didn’t seem to help.
Carskel moved toward the desk and sat down, propping his feet up on it. He motioned to the empty space before him. “Come. Now is when we work out our problems.” When neither Aully nor Kindren moved, his frown deepened. “You will come here now,” he said harshly, “or I will have Ethir force you.”
Ethir, from his place against the wall, snickered.
Aully would have refused still, but Kindren released her hand and stepped toward the desk. After a moment’s hesitation she joined him. When she looked up at the face of her betrothed, she saw his lower jaw shaking. He was frightened, as he had every right to be. In a way Aully envied him, for she wasn’t scared at all; what filled the emptiness inside her was anger.
“There, that’s better,” Carskel said when they stood side by side before him. He pointed his gaze at Aully, shaking his head disappointedly. “Your stunt at the reception was unacceptable. You know I require your help to bring our people to my cause. It is unfair of you to deny me that. So much time I’ve wasted mending the discord you sowed.”
“I hope you’re tortured for eternity in a special underworld all your own,” she shot back. Beside her, she sensed Kindren cringe.
“If any underworld exists, sweet sister, I’m sure I will.” He let out a short burst of laughter. “Then again, I might enjoy it. I have always rather liked the dark.” He brought his attention to Kindren. “And what of you, Prince of Dezerea? Do you wish to see me burn as well?”
Kindren didn’t reply, though it seemed as if he were struggling with some great inner turmoil. Sweat beaded on his brow, turning the dirty hair slathered to his forehead shiny.
“Ah, I see,” Carskel said. “Well, I suppose saying nothing is better than saying the wrong thing.”
Her brother swung his feet off the desk and shot Ethir a sideways glance. Aully never took her eyes off Carskel and noticed the way his expression changed from one moment to the next. She knew what was to come, and when she looked up at Kindren, she saw that he did too.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, and she nodded.
“What was that?” asked Carskel from his place behind the desk.
Aully and her betrothed stayed silent.
Carskel let out a disgusted groan.
“You both are being difficult, but I suppose that is understandable. However, we must deal with the very real problem that you have made for me, Aullienna. Our people are restless. They don’t trust me. They would have been swayed had you not turned your back on me, which makes me quite upset. War is coming as the eastern god marches through his brother’s Paradise, and if we are to survive this, it must be as a united front with our Quellan brothers. That will not happen if I cannot get the people to trust me. So I ask you again, Aullienna Meln, my sweet sister. . will you vouch for me, will you sing my praises to our people? If you do, I will forget all about your betrayal, and we can be like family again.”
Aullienna gave him her sweetest smile as he leaned closer for her answer.
“I know how you treat family,” she said. “Or should I say, Brienna did?”
Before he could react, she spit in his face. He slowly reached for one of the washcloths on the desk and dabbed at the spit dripping down his chin. He then sat back gravely.
“That was unwarranted,” he said. “And most unfortunate. Ethir, your sword, please. Kill the young prince.”
Aully heard the enforcer step away from the wall, heard the hiss of steel drawn from a scabbard, but she didn’t panic. Instead, she grasped Kindren’s hand, felt him shaking, and glared at her brother.
“You won’t kill him,” she said. “You need him.”
“Is that so?”
“You need the Quellan elves. Do you think Lord and Lady Thyne would ever agree to an eventual alliance if their only son is butchered?”
Carskel smiled. “You’re wiser than you let on, Aullienna. Though you are right. The prince here is too valuable to kill.”
“Then let me go,” Kindren said. It was the first time he’d truly spoken since Ethir brought him in, and his voice was shaky. Aully wanted to scream at him to keep his mouth shut.
“It has a voice!” shouted Carskel. “But it will do you no good. While my sweet sister is right that it would be disastrous if you died, she still lacks. . imagination. After all, the Lord and Lady will accept you back, whether you’re whole or not.”
Carskel shot up from his chair, his hand flashing through the open space between them, and snatched Kindren by the collar. Aully bit down on her lip so hard that she pierced the flesh as her betrothed was yanked forward. She went to reach for him, but Ethir slapped her hard across the face and sent her reeling. She thudded on the ground, rubbing her swelling cheek, and screaming filled her ears. She looked up to see Ethir holding Kindren’s head against the marble desktop while Carskel clamped down on her betrothed’s right arm. In his free hand, Carskel held a dagger whose blade gleamed in the low candlelight.
Shaking, Aully got to her feet.
“You leave him be!” she screamed, her fingers balling into fists. “Don’t hurt him!”
Carskel looked at her, still smiling. “Do you promise to do as I asked? Will you sing my praises? Will you not betray me this time?”
The part of her that was still young, that still believed in miracles and happy endings, pleaded with her to say yes. But when she glanced at Kindren’s face, saw the mixture of pain, fear, and defiance in his eyes, she hesitated. She then looked on as he mouthed, “I love you,” and the choice was all but made for her.
“No,” she said.
Her brother appeared genuinely surprised.
“Very well then,” he said. The dagger came down in a flash of silver, striking the desktop with a clang. Kindren’s eyes bulged in his head and his blood-curdling shriek filled the study. Carskel then lifted the dagger and brought it down again, and Kindren’s cries elevated tenfold.
When they were done, Kindren slid off the desk and fell to the floor, right hand clutched to his chest, three fingers missing. Blood spurted from the stumps, spraying his face, painting his youthful features with red streaks.
Aully began to feel faint. She fell to her knees. But she didn’t scream.
Ethir grabbed the bowl of water that had been sitting on the desk and knelt before Kindren. He forced the young elf’s hand into the bowl, washing it, and then proceeded to wrap the washcloths around it. Aully sat on her knees, paralyzed. Her love would never hold a sword, would never pull back a bowstring. And for what?
“For honor. For dignity. For the love of what is right,” a strange voice in her head answered.
“Do you see now?” asked Carskel, and Aully turned her gaze to him. He was sitting again behind the desk, cleaning blood off his dagger. “I seem to have a thing for fingers. First your uncle, now your betrothed.” He looked at her, his eyes deadly serious. “Now tell me, sweet sister, have you changed your mind?”