“What?” Petras stumbled. “He—he’s a cat now?”
Silas steadied him. “He’s a Chameleon—”
“He tricked me!” Petras trembled as horrified rage swept over his face. “The bastard tricked me!” He ran toward the fighting cats, shooting fire at them.
“No!” Silas pulled him back, but it was too late.
The cats howled in pain as their fur caught fire. They rolled on the ground, forgetting their battle as they desperately tried to snuff out the flames. One stopped, breathing heavily as it lay on its side, while the other rose slowly to its feet.
Which one was Brody?
The one limping toward them shifted into Brody in his human form.
Silas hesitated. Was it Brody or was the Chameleon tricking them? He pointed his sword at him. “Identify yourself.”
“That one has to be the Chameleon!” Petras pointed at the second wildcat and ran toward it. “I’ll kill him myself.”
As he passed by Brody, he was seized in a fierce grip. “I should have never relied on a fool like you.” The false Brody shifted into a likeness of Petras. “I should have killed you and taken your place months ago.”
Petras grew pale.
Silas aimed his sword at the Chameleon. “Release him.”
The Chameleon moved the real Petras in front of him, an arm crooked around his neck. “You can’t breathe fire on me without roasting your brother first.”
Silas watched, helpless, as the Chameleon backed away, dragging his brother. If he mentally called for help from Dimitri or Aleksi, would the Chameleon kill his brother? He played for time while he tried to figure out what to do. “Why didn’t you replace the king months ago?”
“I was already controlling him, along with Romak.” The Chameleon sneered. “And I was waiting for his damned wife to die. I thought she would know if I took his place.”
“You—you wanted Freya to die?” Petras whispered.
“Of course.” The Chameleon snorted. “I kept giving you poisoned rings for her, but the bitch was taking forever to keel over.”
“No!” Petras struggled, but the Chameleon shifted one of his hands into a giant bear paw with sharp claws that dug into the king’s neck.
“Stop!” Silas stepped forward,
The Chameleon gave him an annoyed look. “Why couldn’t you do as the king ordered you? You were supposed to invade Tourin for me and get Brigitta. You were supposed to die in battle, dammit, but you kept surviving. I’ll just have to kill you now. Along with this worthless king.” He shoved Petras into the boiling stream.
Petras’s scream echoed throughout the cavern as Silas ran toward him.
“No!” Silas grabbed a flailing hand and hauled his brother out of the stream. Most of Petras’s body was a hideous red, all the skin burned away. “Shift! If you shift, maybe you can—”
Dammit to hell! His brother would never survive this. Silas grabbed his sword and leaped toward the Chameleon, but the false Petras shifted into an eagle and flew toward the opening.
“Dimitri!” Silas shouted, and a stream of fire shot down, engulfing the eagle in flames.
With a shriek, the bird fell to the ground.
Good riddance. Silas turned his attention back to his brother. “Petras.” He knelt beside him. “Can you shift?”
A rattling sound came from Petras’s chest as he struggled to breathe.
Aleksi and Gwen ran into the cavern.
“We heard screaming,” Gwen cried as they rounded the Sacred Well to join him.
“Your Majesty!” Aleksi fell onto his knees by Petras.
“Can you help him?” Silas asked Gwen.
She turned pale with a horrified look as her gaze ran over the king’s burned body. “I—I don’t think … I’m sorry, but…” Her eyes glimmered with tears. “Silas, he doesn’t have any skin left except for that one hand.”
Silas clung to Petras’s hand as his heart clenched in his chest. There was nothing he could do to help his brother.
Gwen touched his shoulder. “Silas, I’m sorry.”
I should have protected him better. I should have … “Petras,” Silas whispered, wishing he could at least take away some of the pain.
A moan sounded across the cavern as Brody shifted back into human form. He lay on his side, one of his legs red with welts.
“Brody!” Gwen ran toward him.
He winced. “I’ll be all right.”
Dimitri, dressed only in half-buttoned breeches, ran into the cavern with Annika. “Did I hit him? Did I—” He halted with a jerk when he saw the king. “Your Majesty.”
Annika gasped and covered her mouth.
Dimitri approached slowly. “How…?”
“The Chameleon pushed him into the stream.” Silas motioned toward the burned eagle lying in a smoldering heap on the ground. “You hit him good.”
Suddenly a burst of flames erupted from the eagle, and a huge bird with glimmering green and purple feathers rose from a pile of ashes.
“No!” Brody struggled to stand.
Silas ran at the bird, swinging his sword and shooting fire. With a screech, the bird shot through the opening above them.
Dammit. Silas debated shifting into a dragon to follow the Chameleon, but he hated to leave his dying brother. “Aleksi, Dimitri, go after him. Roast him!”
Brody lifted a hand to stop them. “It’s no use. You can’t kill him with fire. He figured out how to shift into a phoenix. He’ll keep rising from the ashes.”
“You mean we can’t kill him?” Dimitri demanded.
Brody winced, obviously still in pain. “Not with fire, but we should be able to stab him to death. If we can ever catch the damned bastard.”
“Silas,” Petras moaned.
Silas knelt beside him, taking hold of his uninjured hand. “I’m here. We’ll take you back to the castle.”
“I—I want to be with Freya.”
“Don’t say that!” Silas squeezed his brother’s hand. “You have to fight this, Petras. You’re still the king.”
“You’ll be a better king than I ever was,” Petras whispered. “I failed—”
“Stop it,” Silas growled. “I’m going to shift and carry you back. I’ll take care of you.” His brother’s eyes flickered shut and his hand went limp. “Petras? Petras!”
Annika covered her face as a sob escaped.
“Petras!” Silas yelled, grabbing his brother’s face. “Don’t do this! Don’t leave me!”
Dimitri and Aleksi knelt, bowing their heads. “Your Majesty.”
Were they referring to him? Silas shook his head. “No! I
