Rhen fell to the ground, hand pressed tightly against his stomach, trying to hold in the blood forcing its way out.
He looked up at his mother, desperate, pleading for mercy.
She stepped back, lifted the knife to her own throat. And suddenly, something clicked into place.
This was the shadow.
Jin had tried to tell him, to warn him, but Rhen had never really believed the boy until that instant—looking into his mother's empty, soulless eyes. Something had taken control of her body. Something had ripped away her will.
That same thing wanted Rhen dead.
And it might have succeeded, he thought, pushing harder against his weak muscles.
His mother looked up sharply, eyes widening at something over Rhen's shoulder. The knife dug into her throat, pushing deeper, trying to break through delicate but sturdy skin.
"No," he tried to say. It came out softer than a whisper.
In a flash, someone had jumped over his body, crying out. Rhen recognized the bronze armor of the royal guard, the red leather overcoat. Pride surged in his chest at the sight of the rearing stallion of Whylkin, still charging into battle, still strong.
The man reached out, stretched for the queen's hand, for the knife.
The instant they touched, time stopped.
The guard's skin rippled, trembled. It grew in size, inflating, swelling larger and larger. The colors on his jacket seemed to melt, to mix together. They dripped down into his flesh, spinning and turning, separating into individual strands.
Rhen watched with widening eyes. The man was a monster. An aura sprung to life around his person, dragging his image wider and wider, until the man's body was encased in a glowing shell, white with veins of color intermixing, weaving together, and pulling against each other. It brightened, whiter and whiter, growing, expanding, becoming more vaporous, until it burst.
The man fell.
The queen stumbled back, blinking. Her eyes, green and so like his, had returned to normal—mulled over with confusion but vibrant and full of life.
Rhen looked at the guard. But he was no longer a guard.
He was a boy, wearing dark leather boots and a fine white shirt that was splattered with dirt. Looking closer, Rhen spotted fingers, copper toned as though kissed by the sun, glowing despite being indoors. It was the only bit of exposed flesh Rhen could see, but it was enough. Even presented with his back, Rhen recognized his friend.
"Jin," he said, hoarse, pained.
Of course Jin had come to fight the shadow, to save Rhen yet again. It was no surprise, and yet his heart felt just a little bit lighter, a little more able to hold on.
Reaching out, Rhen extended one hand, keeping the other firmly planted against his wound.
"Jin," he repeated, softer. But the sound was deafened by the crack of splintering glass.
Rhen arched his head up, peering at the windows so far overhead just in time to see them burst apart, shatter, rain down with sparkling fury. He tried to look away, to shield his eyes, but they were glued to the spot. Blinding flashes followed, crackling through the empty windows, half a dozen bolts of light, maybe more.
Faster than his mind could process, they dropped to the floor, meeting at the same exact spot—Jin's lifeless body. Immediately, the boy was lifted off the ground, catapulted feet into the air as his body bent almost in half from the electric shock coursing through his veins.
Rhen's bones chilled.
It wasn't the lightning. It wasn't the gruesome curve of Jin's body. It was his silence.
Racked by pure elemental power brought down by the sky, yet Jin was quiet. Unmoving. Not a single sound escaped his body. It was eerie, and it made Rhen's skin crawl with unease.
The entire banquet hall stilled, enraptured by the scene. No one moved. No one stirred. The only sound was the sizzle of heat.
And then it was gone.
The lights relented, disappeared, and zipped back up into the sky. Jin fell to the ground. The entire room paused…then dove into action.
Rhen inched his way forward, using his one free hand to pull himself closer to Jin, wincing at the pain it caused in his gut.
When Jin's hand was in reach, Rhen grabbed it and latched on. Waiting, praying, he felt for a pulse.
There.
It was there. Ticking, thrumming rapidly, as though the boy were running instead of lying still.
Rhen tugged.
Jin flipped over, falling onto his back, head rolling to face Rhen…
He sucked in sharply.
It couldn’t be. It wasn't possible.
But his eyes met full lips, wide and defined cheeks, long closed lashes framing elegantly angular eyes.
A woman.
It was undoubtedly the face of a woman.
Yet as he looked closer, Jin was in there too, like one face altered just enough to become something, someone entirely new.
Reaching out his hand, Rhen ran his fingertips over her soft skin, thumb brushing the curve of her jaw until it reached the bottom edge of her lip. A memory came unbidden, one of a golden-veiled face looming over him, worriedly caressing his brow. He recognized her now. It was never the princess. It had been Jin all along.
Since the day they had met, Rhen had known Jin was hiding something. And now he knew. Jin could change his skin, could appear to be someone else. It was impossible—but some would say no more impossible than a prince who could walk through fire unscathed. Minutes ago, she had appeared as a royal guard, but somehow touching the shadow had caused her true self to be revealed.
A pain sharpened in his chest.
At first, Rhen thought it was his wound, but then he realized it was something entirely different. The white-hot sting of betrayal.
He had shared everything with the boy. Had opened up, revealed secrets he had never told anyone before. Rhen thought he had finally found a confidant, a true companion, a real brother.
But it had all been a lie.
All of it.
False.
Jin was a woman, and that changed everything.
Hands slipped into view, grasped Jin under the shoulders, pulling her roughly off the ground. She didn't stir. The only movement on her person was the constant flick of her eyes behind their lids.
"Take the girl to the dungeons with the others," Rhen heard Whyllem command, saw his brother step into view, and kneel down over him.
The guards pulled Jin away, her boots scraped along the floor as they dragged her by the arms. Rhen remained silent. Not one protest stirred on his lips as he watched them take her away.
"Rhen," Whyllem swallowed, voice catching as he lifted Rhen onto his lap.
For his part, Rhen tried to answer, tried to respond, to ease the worry in his brother's face. But it came out as a gurgle. His tongue felt heavy and fat. His lips would not obey.
Whyllem reached down, pressing his hands against Rhen's stomach. But Rhen found he couldn't feel them. Couldn’t feel anything, not even his own fingers. Panic made his heart race, but his muscles would not respond—they felt disconnected from his brain.
"I will not let you die, brother," Whyllem said, voice thick. "You cannot leave us." He looked up at the sky, back down at Rhen. His eyes were moist, darkening over and growing wilder by the second. "I," his voice cracked, "Rhen, I cannot do it alone. Without father. Without Tarin. I need you."
Whyllem's head bent down. He started shaking against Rhen's chest. Silent cries racked his body.
More than anything, Rhen wished he could lift his arm, wrap it around his brother's shoulder, and assure him it would be okay. But the harder he tried, the weaker he seemed to feel.
Vision spotting, his eyelids felt heavy. Drowsiness muddled his mind.
"Get him to the apothecary, immediately." A voice commanded, but Rhen could no longer recognize it. He seemed to be floating, drifting through darkness, dreaming of endless night.
He was gone.
Hovering.
Sinking closer and closer to a world not of the living.
21
Jinji
~ Rayfort ~