“He fooled us both,” Dyraien said. “With his pretty face and clever designs.”
Rye didn’t move. “No.”
Dyraien sniffed and wiped his eyes. “I saw him, Rye. Saw him leave her room with a bloody knife. He sliced her neck. I didn’t know what he’d done until I saw her, dead on the floor.”
Rye shook his head rapidly. “You’re wrong. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Tahki.”
“It wasn’t me,” Tahki whispered.
Dyraien grabbed Rye’s neck and drew their foreheads together. “I know how you felt about him. I know you wanted to trust him. But you still have me, Rye. You and I, we’re never alone, so long as we have each other.”
Rye pulled away. “Tahki didn’t do this.”
“He did,” Dyraien said. “He’s already confessed his crimes.”
Then as though queued like an actor in a theatrical performance, Zinc stepped out of the basement, dragging a tied and gagged Sornjia behind him. Zinc shoved Sornjia to the floor in front of them.
“He’s from Dhaulen’aii,” Dyraien said, loud enough for Zinc’s men on the third floor to hear. “He’s a spy, sent here to kill the queen and sabotage our plans.”
The men and women above murmured among themselves. Witnesses, Tahki realized. People who would support Dyraien’s claim. And if he could get Rye to believe him, Rye would convince Gale, and everyone would blame Tahki.
“That makes no sense,” Rye said. “Why would he help us with the castle if he was a spy?”
“Authenticity,” Dyraien said in an exasperated tone. “He used it to get us to trust him. To confide our secrets to him.”
“Untie him,” Rye demanded. “I want to hear his story.”
“So he can lie and manipulate you?”
“So he can explain himself.”
“He really has you wrapped around his sad little finger, doesn’t he?” Dyraien said. “My mother’s corpse rots in her room. He is a traitor. And you know what happens to traitors.”
Zinc pulled a knife from a sheath and crouched down beside Sornjia.
“No!” Rye yelled. Two of Zinc’s men descended from above and restrained him. Rye brought his elbow into the chest of one and slammed his fist into the face of the other. Three more men and two women fell on him, shoving his arms behind his back, grabbing any part of him they could hold.
Tahki couldn’t move. Everything knotted up.
Zinc brought the knife to Sornjia’s throat. The silver blade glinted in the light. Zinc smirked and licked his lips. He was going to cut Sornjia’s throat. Sornjia was going to die. No one would save him, and it was all Tahki’s fault.
Every part of him screamed: Go. Run. Act. Black obsidian pressed around him, reflecting his body at every angle. His breath caught in his throat. The scent of sweat and blood and death moved across him like a shadow, and he saw his brother’s blood spill in his mind, a lake of red.
Tahki gripped a cool obsidian shard from the floor. He grasped it so tightly the sharp sides bled his palm, a warm sensation running down his fingers. Zinc pressed the blade into Sornjia’s neck, and Tahki leaped from his hiding spot. He cleared the room in five wide strides and swung the obsidian across Zinc’s head before anyone could react. The glasslike stone shattered as it cut into his head. Zinc cried out, stumbled back, and writhed on the floor.
Tahki stood over Sornjia and untied him. “Are you all right?”
Sornjia nodded.
Once Sornjia was free, Tahki spun around. Every face in the room turned his way. Rye and Dyraien looked shocked and confused. Zinc cursed. Zinc’s people looked to their leader for direction.
“How are there two of you?” Dyraien said.
“There’s only one of me,” Tahki said. “This is Sornjia, my twin brother.”
Dyraien looked from Tahki to Sornjia. “Proof. This is proof! Proof he lied to us! Proof he killed the queen!” He faced Rye, obviously trying to turn the situation to his advantage. “Don’t you see now? Don’t you see he lied?”
Rye didn’t move, his expression unreadable.
“You’re wrong,” Sornjia said. “My brother didn’t kill anyone. You killed your mother, Dyraien, and tried to frame him.”
“Liar,” Dyraien said. “Rye, we’ve been fooled. Tahki is a spy from Dhaulen’aii. Him and his doppelgänger.”
“Why don’t you tell him, Dyraien,” Tahki said. “Tell Rye the true purpose of this castle. Tell him how you planned to kill a man in order to open the Dim. Tell him about the Királye conquest.”
Dyraien faced Rye. “Do you hear him? He’s mad, Rye. He’s a liar and a traitor and he’s mad!”
Rye looked from Sornjia to Tahki, and Tahki wished he’d been honest with him from the start. But before any explanations could be given, a cry erupted from behind.
“You little shit!” Zinc said. He stood now, a pistol in his hand, blood clumping on the side of his head. “I’ll blow both your fucking brains to the seventh hell!” Zinc aimed the pistol at Tahki’s chest and pulled the trigger.
Tahki blinked. Gunpowder filled his nose. Bells chimed in his head. He wasn’t sure if he heard someone scream or if he had screamed. He didn’t know if his eyes were open or shut. The ends of his fingertips tingled, and he felt a heavy weight tremble against his body. He looked down, chin pressed against his chest, teeth grinding against one another.
Sornjia’s body leaned into him. Blood dripped from his brother’s shoulder onto his arm. The white marble beneath them turned crimson. He could feel every heave his brother took, and as he felt the rise and fall of his chest, as he watched his brother’s eyes blink rapidly, he understood.
Sornjia had put himself in the bullet’s path.
“Sornjia!” Tahki cried. “Sornjia…. Sornjia, look at me!”
“I’m all right,” Sornjia said, dazed. He looked at the blood trailing down his arm. “So much red.”
Tahki heard Zinc’s people rush forward.
