Caedmon whistled once, a short, quiet trilling sound that expertly echoed the call of a sparrow. The signal for King Bain to move forward with his priests and take his position. Just as they’d assumed, the queen and her priestesses were at the end of the procession. An entire battalion of warriors brought up the rear to protect her from attack from behind. It was more than they’d expected, but still not nearly enough to stop them. Not with King Bain and both of his sons to contend with.
Or so his father thought.
Lorcan felt his father’s presence before he heard the soft footfalls of his approach. The power Bain exuded called to the stone in Lorcan’s own forehead. Someday, he would be the one to wield that power. Someday, he would be the one to rule their kingdoms.
But first, they had to finish what they’d started.
Caedmon had just lifted his hand to make the final signal, when he paused, his head cocked. Lorcan froze as well, his hands halfway lifted, prepared to attack. He’d heard it, too. He spun around just in time to see a handful of Draíolon dressed in dark, close-fitting clothing rushing at blinding speed through the forest, straight toward them.
Evelayn didn’t pause when she realized they’d been spotted. Everything had been exactly as Caedmon had promised—the formation of the king and his sons, their location, everything. She only had a split second before the king turned and realized what had happened. She lifted her hand and shot a blast of light at his back. But one of his priests shouted a warning and simultaneously threw a pulsing ball of shadowflame at her. She had to throw her body to the side, scraping her arm and face on the branches of a tree to avoid being hit. The black flames erupted against the trunk she’d been standing by with a reverberating boom that shook the ground.
Kel and Teca rushed forward, throwing blasts of white-flame and light at the princes, while the other priestesses who had come with her fought the other Dark Draíolon. They’d changed the plan slightly, having other Draíolon attack with her, so if Bain did catch anyone else’s scent when he was chasing her it wouldn’t strike him as suspicious.
She’d failed at the first attempt—to get him from behind before being spotted. But she knew it couldn’t have been that easy. It was time to move on to the real plan.
Evelayn hurried around the trees, trying to ignore the sounds of the fighting going on behind her, searching for King Bain. She’d expected him to come for her, but instead she found him standing in front of someone else.
“No!” She rushed forward, but it was too late. He had Caedmon trapped.
“Make it worth it!” Caedmon shouted, his eyes meeting hers just before King Bain shot a jet of darkness that blasted through his chest and he crumpled to the ground, dead.
The king whirled to face her, and Evelayn pulled up sharply upon confronting the King of Dorjhalon.
Bain would have been handsome, with his metallic black hair, silver eyes, and the rare coppery sheen to his skin, if it weren’t for the rage contorting his face and the gleam of madness in his gaze. Though he was nearing three hundred, he still looked as if he were in the prime of his life. Evelayn knew ruling monarchs could live longer than average Draíolon because of their direct access to the power—some reaching five or even six hundred years old. But he barely looked older than his sons.
“Do you honestly think this will work?” He sneered at her. “Do you truly think you can beat me?” He shot a blast at her, but it was only halfhearted; she easily dodged it. He was toying with her. So sure of his victory, even with his plans going awry.
Evelayn didn’t bother responding. Instead, she looked into his eyes—into the eyes of the Dark Draíolon who had killed both her parents, who had spent ten years trying to tear apart the fabric that held their world together, all because of his insurmountable greed and selfishness. Evelayn looked into his face and saw nothing but endless hunger.
And she did as Tanvir had counseled her. She let all her rage and pain and frustration surge up, calling to the magic until it burned in her conduit stone, begging for release.
“Yes, actually, I do,” she finally responded with a smile.
And then she turned and ran.
THERE WERE CRASHES BEHIND HER AND SHE COULD only pray to all the gods above that it was Bain following her.
There was nothing she could do to help Kel or Teca or anyone else battling the princes and those behind them, except to defeat the king. Evelayn sped through the forest, the trees whipping past in a blur as she hurried toward the place where Tanvir and the others waited. They would only have one chance for this to work.
Even running as hard as she could, she sensed King Bain keeping pace with her. And she was certain he was a much better shot at full speed than she was. They were almost there—she just had to go a little bit faster. Evelayn pushed her legs forward until her muscles screamed at her, begging for her to slow or stop. The hot afternoon air ripped through her lungs, but she didn’t let up. The tree right next to her head exploded, and Evelayn stumbled and nearly fell to avoid the blast of it. He was closer than she’d thought.
Go, go, go, she screamed at herself, launching her body forward again. There was the clearing—almost there—
And then she was hit from behind. She crashed to the ground, pain exploding through her legs.
Evelayn looked down to see black bands encircling her calves and thighs. Bain burst out of the trees into the clearing behind her. Frantic, she blasted away the shadow chains with a jet of light as he rushed toward her. He was going to kill her and it would all be—
But suddenly he stumbled and nearly fell as something exploded against his back. He roared in pain—and rage. Evelayn blinked, almost certain it had been shadow that had hit him, not light.
There was no time to wonder. Evelayn jumped back to her feet and sprinted away, ignoring the lingering pain from his attack. She glanced over her shoulder to see him barreling after her, Lorcan, Lothar, Kel, and Teca right behind him.
She only had to get him to the other side of the clearing without being killed. Evelayn shot to the right, drawing him toward the forest, and then cut back left just as he sent another blast at her, barely evading the hit. He whirled to follow her, just as Lorcan sent a ball of shadowflame at her. She threw herself to the ground, but his aim was a little bit off—the fireball exploded just behind her.
She heard Bain curse as she rolled across the earth and onto her feet in one fluid movement. Her entire body hurt, pain pulsing in too many places to count. This was her last chance.
Evelayn sprinted as fast as she had in her entire life toward the edge of the clearing where the trail narrowed once more; the clearing and the forest beyond blurred into a hazy watercolor of greens, browns, and blues. There was the path where Tanvir, Lord Teslar, and the other priestesses waited, not revealing themselves yet in hopes she could still succeed. Bain and Lorcan were both right on her heels. Her conduit stone burned hot in her chest, the power she had access to begging for release, as she somehow found the strength for one more burst of blinding speed.
The moment she hurtled past the appointed spot, Evelayn whirled and lifted her hands. King Bain was right there, his face lit with exultation.
He thought he had her.
And then suddenly, he was ensnared. The webs came from everywhere—the left, the right, even from above where two priestesses clung to branches. It was too many at once. His entire body was trapped for the space of a breath.
Evelayn looked into his eyes once more as she finally released the power and called down the sun. There was a roar, and the sky exploded. Pure sunlight blasted to the earth at the exact moment Bain burst through the webbing with a slash of the shadow-blade he’d summoned, and leapt toward her. There was a split second when the image of his face, contorted with rage, was seared into her mind. And then the light consumed his body.
There was nothing but that blinding beam, the thundering sound of the sun devouring the king of Dorjhalon, and the power flowing through Evelayn’s body like a tidal wave she coul
d no longer hold back. She began to vibrate with it; her hands trembled and her stone burned like fire in her breastbone. But she didn’t dare let go yet. She didn’t know how long it would take to make sure he was truly gone.
And then, suddenly, someone’s arms came around her from behind. A gentle, insistent pressure.
“Ev, you did it. He’s gone. Let go.” A familiar voice murmured in her ear. “Let go.”
With a gasp, she did as the voice told her, nearly collapsing when, in the blink of an eye, the beam of sun dissipated, leaving behind nothing but a blood-red stone smoking in the charred soil.
“You did it, Ev,” the voice said in hushed awe, and this time she knew him. It was Tanvir who held her, who had called her back when she’d almost lost herself in the power.
Lorcan stood on the edge of the clearing, staring at the ground in shock, his brother just behind him.
And that’s when it truly hit her. She had done it. All the sacrifice and work, all the worry and fear and hours and hours of training had been worth it.
Bain was dead.
LORCAN’S EYES FINALLY LIFTED AND MET HERS. EVELAYN suppressed a shiver. They were the exact same silver as his father’s. She knew it was him because she’d heard descriptions of him her whole life. But seeing him in person was an entirely different thing. No one could accurately describe the coldness that etched his handsome face like stone or the arrogant way he held himself, even now, even faced with the loss of his father—his magic. He exuded power … even though he was now bereft of it.
She lifted her hands and bound him with shimmering cords of light, despite his having no ability to hurt her. Rather than struggling or protesting, he merely smirked at her, as if he found her diverting.
The others came out from hiding, all celebrating, shouting her praise, but Evelayn only had eyes for the new king of Dorjhalon, and she watched him—calculating. Though she wanted nothing more than to celebrate with her people, to allow her relief to swallow up the fear and tension that had held her captive for the majority of her life, she knew that what happened next was just as important as having killed Bain. Kel and Teca soon appeared, prodding Lothar, who was similarly bound with cords of light, forward to stand beside his older brother.
Though Lorcan had his father’s silver eyes, he had his mother’s snow-white hair and obsidian-black skin—he was stunning. Lothar, on the other hand, was the spitting image of his father. The metallic glint of coppery skin, with raven-colored hair and slightly darker gray eyes. They were both extremely handsome—and extremely dangerous.
“What do you know of the need for balance in our world?” Evelayn finally spoke, still watching Lorcan.
His gaze was unreadable as he looked down at her. She was tall, but he was taller. Much taller. “That depends on what you mean by ‘balance.’”
Evelayn tightened the cords around him, letting him feel the force of the power she wielded—reminding him that she had the ability to cut his life short if he wasn’t careful.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Lorcan’s jaw tightened, and after a pause he nodded, a sharp jerk of his head. She loosened the cords enough to let him breathe again, and he inhaled and exhaled loudly. “If I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t know what I believe.”
Evelayn glanced over his shoulder at Kel and Tanvir, who stood together, watching their interaction. Kel’s expression was unreadable, but Tanvir’s eyes were narrowed, as if weighing Lorcan’s every word.
Her choices were so limited—and fraught with risk.
If she let Lorcan go, he could try to perform the ceremony to claim the power the Dark Draíolon were now without. He didn’t have his father’s body, but the stone was still there, lying on the ground. There was the possibility he could rule his people in peace in Dorjhalon … but there was also the possibility he could take up his father’s battle and carry on the war.
Or she could kill him, giving the chance to Lothar. Caedmon had claimed he wanted peace—but he hadn’t been sure. Was it worth killing again to find out? And if he’d been wrong, what then?
Or she could hold them both captive until the three days had passed. Lorcan would have to travel to the Immortal Tree to try to regain access to their power—if she let him go.
Or she could kill them both and leave the kingdom of Dorjhalon without a king. But where would that leave their world?
She believed what Caedmon had believed—what he’d died trying to regain. There was supposed to be balance. Light and Dark, summer and winter, working together to bring life through its full circle every year. Their world and the world beyond them needed both to survive. There had never been a time when there wasn’t a king of Dorjhalon and a queen of Éadrolan to rule together, keeping that balance. No one truly knew what would happen if one kingdom was left without a monarch.
So what did she do now?
Tanvir stepped forward and, with his eyes on Lorcan, quietly said, “You don’t have to make a decision now. Take them back to the castle and think on it for a day or two.”
Evelayn waved him back, not wanting to appear as though she needed his advice. But regardless, his words aligned with what she’d been leaning toward.
“Take the captives to the castle and keep them bound until I decide their fates,” Evelayn finally said, turning away from Lorcan’s disconcerting silver eyes. “Send word that their mother, Queen Abarrane, be brought to the castle as well. The rest of the Dark Draíolon are free to resume their lives, as long as they are willing to make an oath of peace with us. Any unwilling to make that oath shall be sentenced to captivity until such time as their power is returned. If at that time they are still unwilling to make a vow to uphold the peace we have regained, they will be sentenced to death.”
She paused and looked around at all those gathered, they moved quickly to follow her commands. As Kel and Teca organized the others and roughly guided Lorcan and Lothar back the way they’d come, toward the castle, it finally, truly hit her.
Evelayn looked up at the expanse of azure sky above them and tears filled her eyes. I did it, Mama, she thought, hoping that somewhere, somehow, her mother was still watching and was proud of her. She swallowed the emotion down, and when she looked back at Tanvir and Kel and Teca and the rest of those who had helped her defeat King Bain, she was smiling.
“Let the word be spread through both kingdoms—peace has been restored at long last!”
THE DUNGEONS IN ÉADROLAN WERE QUITE DIFFERENT from those in Dorjhalon. They’d been there long enough for Lothar to be quite certain of it. Just as he was certain that even though the three of them were sharing one cell, his mother and brother were still keeping something from him.
Three weeks they’d been locked there together without one glimpse of Queen Evelayn. Perhaps she had decided to let them rot. So much for her claims of wishing for balance.
In Dorjhalon, the cells were made of obsidian and quartz. The walls were slick and dark and cold. But in Éadrolan the cell was one continuous circular enclosure, carved out of a pure white stone Lothar had never seen before. It never seemed fully dark there; even in the middle of the night their prison almost seemed to glow, the white stone reflecting the tiniest particles of light back at them.
It was nearly impossible to sleep. Or even rest.
So instead, Lothar paced. And listened.
There were three cots set up for them. The bedding was actually quite nice, soft and clean. And their guards allowed them to leave and use the privy, rather than forcing them to use a chamber pot in front of one another. As far as being imprisoned went, the queen had seen to it that they were not treated like common criminals. But they definitely weren’t being treated as royalty, either.
“Cots,” his mother had sneered when they’d dragged her in, four days after Lorcan and Lothar had been locked up, lifting her hands as if to burn the offensive sleeping situation, only to realize she had no power to draw upon. “She claims to want peace and this is how I am to be treated?”<
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No one answered her, because Lorcan hadn’t spoken in days, and because Lothar had nothing to say. Lorcan didn’t like it any more than his mother, but Queen Evelayn wasn’t the one who had started the war or instigated so much death and suffering. She was orphaned because of his father. How could she not let some of the hatred and anger she was sure to feel bleed into her dealings with them? She had no way of knowing how involved or uninvolved any of them had been in the war or the murders of her parents. Yes, she’d had her revenge when she’d killed his father, and by every right, he should have hated her now, too. But instead, he felt … pity. He felt bad for her.
Lothar decided to keep his peace, too, because he knew if there was something his mother and Lorcan didn’t feel for the new queen of Éadrolan, it was pity.
And so it had continued for days and then weeks, with none of them speaking. Eating in silence when the guards brought them food, and lying on their cots in silence at night, pretending to sleep. But Lothar couldn’t shake the suspicion that somehow his mother and Lorcan were still planning … something. They’d always assumed he didn’t pay attention, that he was too distracted by his books to be of any use to them.
They were wrong.
He scented an unfamiliar Draíolon moments before there was a knock at the door, and then it opened to reveal a tall male with pale blond hair and bright green eyes. He was dressed like a distinguished member of the royal court, not a guard. Lorcan and Abarrane both rose from their cots, where they’d been lounging while Lothar paced.
“I come with an offer from Queen Evelayn. She sends her apologies that it has taken longer than she had hoped to come to a decision, but she finally reached an agreement with her council. They have consented to allow Lorcan to leave and travel to the Immortal Tree to regain his power if he will make a Blood Vow of peace before both courts, and if his brother, Lothar, and mother, Abarrane, remain here as a show of good faith between our two kingdoms and as guarantee of continued peace in Lachalonia.”