But she could only hope the vow Lorcan had made was truly binding. Because he had finally succeeded. The Dark Draíolon had their power back.
ALL AROUND CEREN AND QUINLEN, THE OTHER Draíolon had begun to murmur—the Light in unease and confusion, and the Dark in excited undertones. Ceren watched as Tanvir reached out toward Evelayn in concern when she stopped midsentence, but she gave a minute shake of her head and he let his arm drop again.
An alarmed buzzing began to build in the Great Hall when the queen didn’t immediately continue her speech. But as Ceren watched, Evelayn pulled her shoulders back and lifted her hands to try and regain their attention. When that didn’t work, she sent a flash of light out above the crowd. Some of the younglings cried out in surprise, but everyone else rapidly quieted again.
“My Draíolon, balance has once again been restored in our world. King Lorcan has succeeded in regaining Dorjhalon’s power!” Evelayn made it sound like a triumph, but Ceren couldn’t help glancing around to see if any Dark Draíolon were near her and Quinlen. Could they truly be trusted? “As he has made a vow of peace, I ask you to join in celebrating yet another triumph this night.”
Everyone cheered again, but the Light Draíolon’s cheers weren’t quite as enthusiastic as the Dark. There was a nervous sort of energy in the hall now, where moments before it had been full of joy and happiness at the conclusion of the lovely ceremony.
As Evelayn continued with her speech, Ceren’s attention strayed to Queen Abarrane sitting behind Tanvir.
She was smiling.
Anything that caused Abarrane to smile made a hard pit of fear lodge in Ceren’s belly.
The rest of the night proceeded without incident, the dancing and feasting continuing for hours, all while Queen Evelayn watched from her throne, Tanvir at her side. Though the initial tension in the room quickly dissipated and the original joviality returned, Ceren couldn’t quite shake a strange foreboding every time she glanced up and saw the way Queen Abarrane was watching the celebration with that same little smile curling her lips.
Finally, hours later, when it was closer to dawn than sunfall, Queen Evelayn stood up and lifted her hands, signaling for the music to stop.
“I hope that this feast celebrating the peace between our two kingdoms will be the first of many,” Evelayn had just said, when suddenly the three-story-high window on the west side of the Great Hall shattered, blasting shards of glass toward the crowd. The Light Sentries burst into action, rushing with blinding speed toward the broken window as younglings screamed in fear and adults quickly shot waves of light over those closest to the destroyed window to deflect the glass.
Tanvir jumped in front of Evelayn, pushing her back, taking a defensive stance, twin daggers suddenly appearing in his hands. But Evelayn wasn’t one to let him stand in front of her while she cowered. Ceren conjured her sword as the High Queen summoned her own weapons—a long sun-sword that crackled with light and a shorter dagger that sparked with lightning in her left hand.
Ceren had just begun to move toward the dais when a hawk as black as night and as fast as shadow dove through the broken window straight toward the queen and her betrothed. In the blink of an eye, a swirl of black smoke twisted through the air, and in place of the hawk stood Lorcan, King of Dorjhalon, dressed completely in black leather.
The crowd gasped and the Light Sentries rushed forward. But Lorcan lifted his hand, and a wall of darkness, writhing with shadows, sprang up around the base of the dais, barricading the four of them—Queen Evelayn, Tanvir, King Lorcan, and Queen Abarrane—from the rest of the Draíolon.
Ceren knew that King Lorcan was older than Evelayn, but not by much, so he, too, was a fairly young monarch. She’d noticed how handsome he was when he’d made his vow; but now his conduit stone was glowing crimson with the power he had regained, which only made his silver eyes even more startling.
He strode to where Evelayn stood stiffly, watching him, took her right hand, and lifted it to his mouth, avoiding the dagger she clutched to press a kiss on her fingers as he had done before leaving months earlier. She yanked it back.
“What is the meaning of this, Lorcan?”
“I see you made it official,” he responded, his gaze dropping to the ring on her hand and then flickering to Tanvir.
The sentries were sending blasts of light at the swirling darkness, unsuccessfully trying to break through the shadow wall, but Ceren stood frozen, unable to tear her eyes away from the two monarchs.
“I’m sorry about the window,” he continued, “but I never could resist a grand entrance when presented with the opportunity.”
Evelayn took a step away from him, closer to Tanvir. “You just regained your power—how did you make it back so quickly?”
“There is so much you have yet to learn, my dear. And I eagerly look forward to teaching you. After you break your Oath of Binding to Lord Tanvir, and Bind yourself to me instead, of course.” Lorcan smiled as though he’d merely commented on her dress or her hairstyle, rather than making such an outrageous demand.
Tanvir lifted the sword he gripped, his expression darkening.
“Now, now, let’s not get hasty. Someone could get hurt.” Lorcan practically growled the last few words and flung a black dart of shadow at Tanvir, which the High Lord deftly deflected.
Evelayn finally moved, so quickly it appeared that one moment she was standing on the dais next to Tanvir, and in the blink of an eye she was behind Queen Abarrane’s chair, her dagger lifted beneath the older monarch’s chin, threatening to drag it across her throat. Ropes made of light snaked out from Evelayn’s fingertips, encircling the older queen, entrapping her so completely there was no possible chance she could use her power to fight back.
“What is it you want, Lorcan?” Gone was the smiling, genteel queen who had been hosting a feast, and in her place was the warrior who had stopped the war. Ceren could easily believe that this Evelayn was capable of killing King Bain. She seemed capable of doing anything.
But so did Lorcan as he stalked toward Tanvir, summoning his own twin blades made of swirling shadow and black lightning. “I believe I already made that clear.”
Evelayn pressed the dagger against Abarrane’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. “Not another step, or she dies.”
The entire crowd watched in silence as Lorcan paused, considering. Tanvir was tensed, ready for a fight. The Light Sentries and priestesses were making barely any progress with the shadow wall. Other Light Draíolon rushed forward to help, hacking at it with sun-swords and sending blasts of light and fire at it. The Dark Draíolon throughout the room were edgy, shifting uneasily but not summoning their own weapons—yet.
Ceren hurried forward to join in attacking the wall, desperate to get to her friend—to help somehow. Quinlen followed, conjuring his own weapons.
“I have to say, Evelayn, this is quite the party. I just knew it would be the perfect place to make my grand entrance as the newly invigorated King of Dorjhalon.” Lorcan took another step toward Tanvir, and Evelayn pressed the dagger deeper into Abarrane’s throat. The other queen made a noise of alarm as her blood began to run a slow trickle down to her collarbone, and Lorcan paused again.
“You made a vow, Lorcan.” Tanvir spoke now.
“I made a vow to keep the peace and not to kill Evelayn, true. And as you can see, both Light and Dark Draíolon have gathered here tonight for the festivities, and your queen still stands before you, well and whole.” Lorcan shrugged his shoulders.
“Do you know what happens to oath breakers in the afterlife?” Tanvir pressed.
“As I just illustrated, I have broken no oath. Though you’re one to speak,” Lorcan responded, flippant and unconcerned. Tanvir’s gaze hardened and suddenly he leapt forward, a blinding flash of light and fury. Lorcan barely lifted his sword in time to deflect Tanvir’s blow.
Evelayn cried out, but there was no stopping the two males as they began to fight in earnest, both moving so quickly that Ceren could barely se
e what was happening. Blasts of light and darkness and the reverberating boom of their weapons clashing filled the Great Hall. Just when Tanvir appeared to have the upper hand and was poised to deliver a killing blow, Lorcan disappeared into a whirling cloud of darkness, only to emerge in his hawk form, flying around Tanvir so quickly he couldn’t react fast enough, allowing Lorcan to shift back into his Draíolon form behind Tanvir, simultaneously sending coils of darkness from his fingertips to encircle the queen’s betrothed before he could deflect them.
“No! Tanvir!” Evelayn’s cry was a desperate plea, but Lorcan just laughed.
“Oh dear, we appear to be at quite a standoff now, don’t we? If you kill my mother, I kill your betrothed.” Lorcan shrugged nonchalantly. “Although I believe we can all applaud his gallant attempt to defend his lady. Come along, join me in applauding him.” Lorcan’s weapons disappeared momentarily so he could clap, turning to face the crowd and gesturing for them to do the same. A few scattered Dark Draíolon clapped, but everyone else stood in stunned silence, except for those still tearing at the shadow wall, desperately trying to get to their queen.
Ceren continued to hack at the writhing shadows with her sun-sword as she watched Tanvir struggle against his bonds; but the chains of darkness made by a royal were unbreakable, except by another royal. And she could tell Evelayn didn’t dare move, her knuckles white on the dagger she still gripped against Abarrane’s throat.
By the Light, Ceren thought, will the fighting and terror never end?
“If you kill him, that is not keeping the peace—you will die, too. What do you hope to gain by all of this, Lorcan?” When Evelayn spoke, Ceren was proud of her friend for keeping her voice haughty—cold even. “Whatever it is, you won’t succeed.”
“Ah, but I already have.” Lorcan’s sword reappeared in his right hand, and he stepped forward to press it between Tanvir’s shoulder blades. Evelayn remained completely motionless, watching him.
Ceren redoubled her efforts, but it seemed like whenever she started to make a hole in the shadows, more would slither over, filling it back in again. The High Priestess and the other priestesses present were summoning as much daylight as they could, pummeling the shadow wall with all their impressive power—but it was Athrúfar, which meant the Light Power was waning as the Dark Power was coming into its strongest season.
It wasn’t enough.
“However,” Lorcan continued, “I’m not without reason. In case you didn’t hear correctly the first time, I have an offer for you, my dear queen of Éadrolan.”
“I don’t make deals with oath breakers,” Evelayn responded immediately.
“We’ve already been over this—I have broken no oath yet,” Lorcan shot back. “I haven’t killed you or broken the peace. And I only ask you to do but one thing.”
Evelayn stared at him steadily, seemingly calm and in control, but Ceren knew her well enough that she could tell her friend was frightened.
“Cancel your oath to this unworthy Draíolon and Bind yourself to me instead. Join your power with mine as my queen, so that we might rule our two kingdoms as one, and you shall have your beloved peace.”
“Never,” Evelayn immediately spat.
Tanvir struggled even harder against his bindings, trying to speak, but the shadows filled his mouth, muffling his words.
“Perhaps you should reconsider,” Lorcan said, pressing the sword into Tanvir’s back, sending the chains of darkness writhing around his body, like snakes with bodies of black smoke, coiling tighter and tighter, until Tanvir couldn’t even move, except to stare at Evelayn, his eyes wide and filled with sorrow.
“Stop it,” Evelayn commanded, but her voice was losing authority as she watched Tanvir suffer.
“Say you’ll Bind yourself to me and I shall release him. Nice and peaceful, just how you prefer it.”
“Never,” Evelayn said again, but this time it was a whisper.
“Then you have made your choice.” Lorcan’s expression became thunderous, and with a flick of his wrist, Tanvir was enveloped in blackness. Ceren’s arm fell to her side, the wall forgotten as she stared up at the dais in horror.
“Tanvir!” Evelayn finally rushed forward, leaving the queen, to blast a blinding stream of light at the writhing darkness where her betrothed once stood, but it was too late. The darkness broke apart at the onslaught of her power, and Tanvir collapsed to the ground, completely silent and still.
“NO!” Evelayn’s scream tore through the Great Hall, a sound that was so full of anguish and fury that even Lorcan—who was still alive somehow despite his vow—took a step back.
And then she sent a blast of light at Lorcan. He barely dodged it in time, so it continued on, tearing a hole through the shadow wall that no darkness was able to refill. The Light Sentries and priestesses quickly converged on the hole, joining their efforts to try and tear it wider so they could get through and aid their queen, alone now on the dais with her two greatest enemies.
“You will consent to Binding yourself to me, or suffer a fate worse than death,” Lorcan threatened as he sent a blast of shadow back at Evelayn. She deflected it with a burst of light.
“You can’t kill me, or you’ll die, too!”
“Ah, but I’m not going to kill you. That’s the beauty of it.” Lorcan attacked again and Evelayn deflected again, but a sudden look of terror crossed her face.
“Something wrong, my lady queen?” Lorcan grinned at Evelayn as they circled each other. Abarrane watched with a calculating gleam from her seat behind them; only the original light-chains on her arms remained to restrain her.
“No,” Evelayn said, and shot another stream of light at him, but Ceren could hear the fear in her friend’s voice now … just as the light in the queen’s sun-sword seemed to dim slightly.
“Perhaps your subjects are not quite as loyal as you had supposed,” Lorcan said, and sent another black tendril of darkness at Evelayn. She cut it apart with her sword, but didn’t return his attack this time.
Something was terribly, horribly wrong.
“I believe you are beginning to feel somewhat, shall we say, weak?”
Evelayn lifted her sword up again, but then she stumbled forward a step and the sword winked out and disappeared. The High Queen of Éadrolan stared at her hand as if she couldn’t believe it had betrayed her.
“Poison,” she said, so quietly Ceren barely heard her, but the word turned everything in her to ice.
“Ah yes, and a very special kind, too.” Lorcan sent another tendril of shadow at Evelayn, and though she tried to deflect it, her light flickered and died, and the shadow wound itself around her, trapping her arms at her sides. “Specifically made to block your Light Power completely.”
A shocked, terrified murmur rippled through the crowd as their queen—their triumphant, powerful queen—dropped to her knees beside the body of her betrothed. She kept her chin lifted, but she was defeated, and they all knew it.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you my mother was an adept poison-master?”
Abarrane grinned from her seat as she watched her son and the High Queen of Éadrolan.
“She was imprisoned—she was guarded day and night,” Evelayn protested.
“But I was allowed to speak with her, and she was still very capable of giving me instructions.”
“No one in my kingdom would have done this to me … no one.” Evelayn was emphatic, but Lorcan just laughed.
“Apparently you are quite mistaken about that, my dear.”
Quinlen continued to send blasts of light at the wall beside Ceren, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her friend, terrified she was about to watch Evelayn die.
“I will ask once more. Now that Tanvir is gone, you won’t even be breaking your oath.” Lorcan walked toward Evelayn, the ruby in his forehead glowing with the power he wielded, while the light in Evelayn’s diamond flickered and dulled in her chest. “Will you Bind yourself to me and seal the peace between our kingdoms by joining our power?
??and our lives—together? We’re already bound by the vow I made. This is what is supposed to happen, Evelayn. And you know it.”
Evelayn stared up at him, broken and defeated, but still defiant, and Ceren loved her intensely for it. “I will not.”
A flash of fury crossed Lorcan’s face, and he lunged forward to grab Evelayn’s jaw, twisting her face toward his. She tried to jerk away, but his fingers dug into her skin, sending more tendrils of shadow to lock her head into place, forcing her to stare up at him.
“Then you have committed yourself to this fate. I am sorry for it. But there is no other way.”
At first Ceren couldn’t tell what was happening—it looked as though the shadows were moving across Evelayn’s body faster and faster. Abarrane suddenly stood up, breaking free from her bonds, and stepped forward beside her son, hands extended.
The Light Sentries and priestesses were crying out for their queen, so close to widening the hole enough to break through, but they were too slow, and all Ceren could do was watch, frozen in growing horror, as Evelayn began to writhe, her body twisting and contorting.
Lorcan’s mouth moved, but Ceren couldn’t hear what he said when suddenly the black bindings became a swirling cloud, hiding the queen from view.
“NO! Evelayn!” Ceren rushed forward, slamming against the wall to no avail. The shadows pressed her back, a cold, swirling force keeping her from reaching her friend before she died, as Tanvir had died.
But when the swirling darkness fell back, Evelayn was no longer there. Instead, a beautiful white swan with violet eyes stood in her place, the diamond conduit stone embedded in the feathers on her snowy breast. Somehow, Lorcan had forced her to shape-shift. The one thing Evelayn had been unable to master. Ceren had never seen a royal force another royal into her animal form against her will.