“Perhaps instead of death, I could give you things you cannot imagine. All these years living as a commoner. I didn’t think you’d survived, Soren Hrafn. Or should I say Hjaggson Hrafn? Coming from that hovel—the Roost? Is that where you call home these days?”
“Even if it’s true that you’re my uncle, I want nothing from you.” My throat is dry, and I stumble over the word uncle.
“Is that so? Not even your freedom?” He circles me and says, “You can be sure you have resources yet untapped given your lineage. You’re strapping and strong, an obvious leader. There are places beyond Raven’s Landing that could be conquered and we could rule, building an empire together. The Shadow Army will lead the way.”
“Never.”
He turns sharply to Kiki. “I know the way you feel about her. What if I use her as leverage to get you to do what I want?” He chortles.
“I’m not yours to use,” she grinds out.
“You were lucky the only punishment for someone as insolent as yourself was the stain of ink on your body.”
“There is no ink on my skin.” I pull up my sleeve and then say, “You’ve left no mark.”
The ink-black tips of his nails grip my flesh. “But I’ve seen it.”
I yank my arm free. “You may have dreamed it, but your dreams didn’t reveal Kiki removing it.”
He jerks in her direction. “In that case, she will prove very useful before I take her shadow.”
No. The word seems to freeze on my tongue. The story he told earlier tumbles back to me like a snowball rolling downhill. No, like an avalanche. I’m suddenly cold all over. “Torsuld was my father and you tricked my mother?” A weight drops in my stomach. “You gave me Frosted Oblivion—?”
Kiki’s attention snaps to me her brow wrinkled with concern.
Frosted Oblivion freezes magic and abilities and sentences the person to death. And if the king and queen were my parents am I raven or fae or...? When do I come of age?
There is no time to think or wallow or wonder. The people need me. “We brought you the birds. We want to see you let the people be free. No more ink and punishments. No more stealing shadows—” I hesitate, not yet ready to play my winning tile, sacrifice.
“Then you’ll serve me, Soren.”
“I’d rather die.” I’d rather try to negotiate. I’d rather try to overthrow him.
“And you will.”
“Not before I destroy you.”
“I’m the king and nothing, not you or a little rebellion, will change that.”
His repeated threats chip away at the brick tower of no I created. The words dig into the soft and uncertain places in my mind like his inky nails. The force of it could hammer me into complacency and the finality of it draws me into fear unlike any I’ve ever known.
“Take me into your service,” Kiki says, standing strong.
The reminder in her voice is all I need to solidify my resolve. Kiki didn’t betray the people of Raven’s Landing or me as I’d momentarily feared. She is our strength.
“Oh, I will. You will be part of my undefeatable army. Unlike demons, shadows cannot die. But they can destroy. If you’re considering rising up against me, you had better hope your army is bigger and stronger than mine will be. I’ll command you all, living and dead.”
I glance over my shoulder. The people gather in the lower courtyard, dressed in raven black, and form the word united. It’s a bold reminder against the snow blanketing the ground. Even though Leith took ink and paper, he didn’t rob us of the power of words.
“Soren will soon succumb to the Frosted Oblivion .”
“Not until I come of age,” I counter. Whenever that is.
“You come of age the moment you try to take the throne. Then we’ll dispense with the rest of you.” Leith gestures toward those gathered.
All of us strain against his threats.
Leith turns to Soren. “I’ll make this simple. Soren, I’ll break the Frosted Oblivion cure and you can rule with me. After you watch a demon tear away her shadow.” He wears a grim smile. “Or, fae girl, you can put Soren out of his misery.” He juts his chin to the sword. “Prove your loyalty.”
Kiki’s eyes ice over. “Spare them and I’ll indebt myself to you.”
“So willing.” He titters. “You’re both so willing to sacrifice yourselves.” Leith takes a sword from a guard. “Well, both of you will fall beneath me. Ah, where were we? Oh, yes, you were going to prove your allegiance, fae girl.”
The guards shove the husky guy forward.
“No. Not him.” Leith’s gaze lands on me. “If she really wants to save the people, she’ll do anything.”
Kiki’s eyes flicker.
“Soren is going to die soon anyway thanks to the spell so it’s no loss really.”
Leith hands her the sword.
Her body seems to hum.
Everyone holds their breath, waiting, witnessing. Everything is still except for the falling snow and the corners, the blind spots in the pleats of the castle’s exterior, where the Rising wait for the right moment.
My eyes slide to hers and lock. The little scar on her chin twitches. The edge of her lip quirks ever so faintly.
Kiki shifts a measure and stares at Leith. “I’ll do it.” Her words are meant for me.
His expression darkens.
She doesn’t shrink. She doesn’t wither or fade.
“Now, don’t get any funny ideas,” Leith says, watching us carefully. “This blade has Soren’s name on it, faetcher.”
“Don’t call her that,” I growl. I struggle against the guards.
Leith extends one arm in front of Kiki and then as though twisting an invisible ribbon of energy, he rotates his wrist to protect himself if she were to turn the blade against him.
“You’ve gone
