Stupid. So stupid.
As my back slams into the stone floor, I kick my heels up, driving it over the top of me. Lines of heat sear my thigh as its claws glance off me, but if I hadn’t reacted so quickly, they’d be buried in my gut.
Rolling ungracefully to my knees, I scramble for my sword. I have no idea where the knife went. Probably still in its flank.
The bane lashes out, claws swiping my boots from under me. I hit the floor, my hand closing over the hilt as I flip over. Like a turtle on its back, I shove the sword between us, scrambling back across the floor until my back hits the wall.
The beast stretches its spine, eyes glowing an amber gold in the dying afternoon light that pours through the open arch window.
It laughs, a faint, wheezing sound, as it prowls back and forth. “In trouvle now, little fae.”
It’s between the door and me, and even though it’s bleeding heavily, it’s still twice my size. And I’m down a weapon.
Curse it.
I clamber to my feet, forcing my voice full of a false bravado I don’t feel. If in doubt… bluff. “I don’t know. It seems I swapped the knife for a star-forged sword. I’d say I just traded up.”
It snarls and swipes the air threateningly in a mine-is-bigger-than-yours kind of way.
Okay, fine. “Yes, I know. My, what big claws you have….”
“Come closer and see dem,” it hisses.
I lunge forward, sword whining as it cuts through the air. Right into the sunlight that streams through the arched window, which blinds me for half a second. The bane avoids the blow, but instead of lashing out and taking advantage of my blunder, it hesitates.
“Prinshess….”
What? My sword hovers in the air. “Do you know who I am?”
Its lip curls as it backs away. “Ish-vien.”
Close enough. I stare at it in horror. There’s only one way it could recognize me by sight. “Who are you?”
“I am loyal, my princhess. I am Evernight,” it whispers, holding up one paw, claws curled inward. “Pleashe. Pleashe don’t hurt me.”
Evernight?
The Kingdom of Evernight is the enemy. Evernight and Asturia have been at war for centuries. How would it know me?
When I was a little girl, I played games of Strategy across from my mother. Each game was a lesson, and if I played well, I would not be punished. It made me wary, thoughtful, hesitant…. And Mother noticed. Trust your instincts, Mother would say, eyes alight upon me. Instinct is the cold kiss of warning that something is wrong, but hesitation is a death knell.
And right now, mine are blaring.
It knows my face. My name. And I swear I’ve never come across an envoy from the Kingdom of Evernight. Mother will barely let us speak its name, let alone encourage mingling.
I lower the sword. “How do you know who I am?”
Movement shifts behind it.
“Don’t move,” says Andraste, stepping inside the room with her bow drawn.
The bane hisses, rising onto two feet, its hackles lifting. Amber fury rolls across its eyes, driving away any last vestiges of its humanity. All that’s left is rage.
“Don’t kill it!”
“Did you hit your head? That’s what we’re here to do.”
“Something’s wrong.” I don’t take my eyes off the beast. “How does it know who I am?”
Andraste steps to the side, her bow nocked, the string tight with tension. “Step back, Iskvien.”
Before I can even move, the bane roars and rams me. My sword lands with a clatter as I slam onto the stone floor, the beast leaping over me.
An arrow flashes, and it screams.
Then it’s upon my sister, driving her into the wall. Andraste whirls beneath its lashing claws, swirling her cloak in a flourish that traps them. She ducks free of the fabric, draws the knife from her right boot, and lunges forward.
It should have been an easy kill, but the beast shoves away from the wall and throws her off-balance.
She staggers back, boots clipping against my side and sending her sprawling. We’re both down, scrambling to get out of the way as the enraged monster launches itself toward us.
A hand shoves me in the back as I stagger to my feet, knocking me clear. Claws rake down my arm, spilling blood, but it’s my sister who grunts as she barely deflects a killing blow. My sister who pushed me aside.
Curse her. She wants to steal the glory of this kill, but I need to know how the beast knows who I am.
If it doesn’t kill us first.
There’s no hint of those fae eyes in its monstrous face. Not anymore. Only rage and fury and pain.
I grab Andraste’s fallen cloak and throw it over the bane’s head. Andraste drives her knife between its ribs just as I kick the back of its knee. For one shining, precious moment, we’re moving in unison. A deadly, unstoppable force to be reckoned with.
“Don’t kill it!”
Andraste’s eyes flicker to mine as she slashes through its hamstring. The bane screams. Her knife flashes, catching the last dying rays of sunlight that glint through the arch, and then it’s burying itself in the bane’s throat.
“No!”
Blood gurgles from the stab wound. The bane’s roar chokes off.
She stabs it again, right in the kidneys.
Those amber eyes lock upon me, breath wheezing from its lungs as it slumps forward. “Prinshess….”
And then the light in those eyes fades, and the beast hits the floor.
My sister turns to me, alight with fury as she wipes the blade on her thigh. “What in Maia’s name were you thinking? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
“I was trying to discover how he knew me.”
Light shimmers around the bane, as though the curse isn’t quite done with him. Its fur shrinks, claws sinking back into flesh and becoming fingers right before my eyes.
When the light fades, there’s a fae male on the floor, naked and bloody. Scratches mar his back and buttocks, and his blond hair is long and ragged. I can’t stop myself from squatting beside him, trying to
