Screaming, I raised Kinra’s swords. Their arc downward felt like a thousand years of breathless terror.
And in every second of those thousand years, I fought Kinra for control. I fought her for my mind. I fought her for Kygo’s life.
The blades smashed into the stones a fingertip from the emperor’s face. The force vibrated through my hands, howling Kinra’s disappointment. As the emperor recoiled, I saw fear pierce the madness in his eyes, slamming him back into his mind.
I gasped as relief twisted into my chest. “Kygo!”
He slumped, the fierce rage draining away.
“Your Majesty, are you all right?”
Slowly, he looked up, his breathing ragged and pained. “Lord Eon?”
I let go of Kinra’s swords. The sudden absence of her fury was like my backbone had been yanked from my body. I collapsed onto my knees.
“I am here, Your Majesty.”
He reached out and touched my shoulder, checking that I was truly in front of him. “They are dead, Lord Eon.” His voice broke as he fought back his sorrow. “My brother. My mother. Dead.”
“I know.”
He looked at the carnage surrounding us. “What is this?” He closed his eyes. “I remember Ryko coming to the camp, telling me about the coup. And the soldiers … He pressed his fists to his eyes. “By the gods,
Gagging, he bent double. The tension in his body gave way to shivering. He did not seek comfort; he was both man and king. Yet something within me knew I had to reach out and breach his lonely despair. It was a risk. His royal body was sacred, inviolate. And I had just fought a desperate battle to stop Kinra from killing him.
It was the guilt and pain in his bloodied face that made me take the chance. I understood guilt and pain. I touched his shoulder, the hard muscle flinching under my fingers. His head snapped up, a lifetime of learned distance swamped by sudden need — something else we had in common. Awkwardly, I drew him closer, as much to escape the horror in his eyes as to comfort him, and murmured sounds of solace against his sweat-slick skin. His ghosts would come soon — as mine had — but the least I could do was hold them back for a while with my touch and a voice that was not screaming for mercy.
Nearby, Ryko hauled himself to his feet, using a sword for leverage. At the corner of my eye, a flicker resolved into Haddo, still trading blows with Dela. He was very close to breaking the Contraire; her blocks were slipping, and there was no strength left in her thrusts. Ryko saw it, too. He gathered himself and ran at the combatants.
“Dela, fall back,” he yelled.
With a desperate burst of strength, she disengaged. Ryko caught one of Haddo’s swords in a sweeping cut that sent it spinning into the air. It crashed to the cobblestones, loud in the sudden, eerie calm.
I realized there was no clashing swords or cries of effort; the battle was over. The sounds now were of pain and prayer. Only two other men were standing: the captain and another guard. Both of them saw Ryko’s struggle and ran to help.
Haddo turned to face the islander, his sword weaving with exhaustion. Every movement was a beat too slow; he would not last long, especially now that the captain and the other guard were on their way. Although I knew Haddo was the enemy, I could not see him slaughtered this way. There had already been too much death.
“Your Majesty,” I said, grabbing the emperor’s shoulder.
He lifted his head.
“Order Ryko to stop! Please.”
Even as I said it, Ryko lunged. One blade flicked away Haddo’s remaining weapon; the other sliced across his shoulder, opening up a shallow gash. The lieutenant stumbled and fell, landing heavily on his back. Desperately, he rolled and clambered to his knees. But it was too late; Ryko swung his sword for the kill. Haddo’s fingers closed around the blood amulet at his throat; a final plea to Bross.
“No!” I screamed, flinging out my hand at the islander.
Energy leaped between us. Deep within me, our pulses thundered together, our heartbeats drumming into one.
Ryko froze, the sword suspended in its deadly arc above Haddo’s head. The islander’s massive shoulders strained to finish the blow, the fruitless effort drawing his lips into a snarl. He could not bring the sword down. Through our link, I felt his confusion explode into searing fury.
“What are you doing?” he bellowed at me.
Haddo saw his chance and threw himself to one side, twisting away from the hanging sword — straight into the path of the captain.
The emperor rose to his knees. “Take him alive!”
But the captain’s blade was already punching through Haddo’s chest, severing flesh from spirit in a gasping rush of death.
CHAPTER FIVE
AS HADDO’S HUA drained away, Ryko roared his freedom, his sword finally finishing its futile journey. I knew I should turn to the islander — swear that the control was not deliberate — but I could not take my eyes off Haddo as he slumped into death, impaled on the captain’s sword. His senseless slaughter pierced me like a barbed arrow.
“You were supposed to take him alive!” I shouted. “You should have taken him alive! You failed your emperor.”
I launched myself at the captain, but a brutal grip on my shoulder brought me up short.
“No! It was I who failed!” The emperor jerked me back against his body. “My command was too slow.”
I turned on him. “He could have stopped. He had time.”
The emperor shook his head. “It was too late.”
“The Lady Dragoneye is correct, Your Majesty,” the captain cut in, his voice cold. “I did not follow your order.”
The emperor abruptly released his hold on me, putting space between our bodies.
“Of course,” he murmured, flushing.
I pulled farther away from him, only to see the captain wrench his sword out of Haddo’s chest. The action dropped the lieutenant onto the stones like a discarded puppet. The man had been our enemy, but he had also been kind, and a caring husband to a wife now bereft. I closed my eyes, but found no respite; instead of Haddo, I saw the lifeless eyes of the soldier in the conquered palace. My first kill, but probably not my last. I had no business judging the captain.
“Your Majesty, the failure was mine,” the captain said. “I offer you my sword and my immediate death.”
He knelt before us. Touching his forehead to the ground, he held up his weapon to his emperor. Although he had wiped down the blade, the steel was still smeared with Haddo’s blood. I looked away.
The emperor drew himself up. The effort of pushing through his fatigue and horror showed in his clenched jaw. “Captain Yuso, I decline the offer. Your death is useful to me elsewhere.”
I could hear the ritual within the words: both men taking refuge in the ceremonies of honor.
Yuso bowed. “My life is yours, Heavenly Master.” He sat back on his heels. “Still, it would be pointless suicide to stay here much longer, Your Highness,” he added with a grim smile. “My men tried to contain the patrol, but if any of them got past us, it will not be long before they bring reinforcements. I suggest we clean up and move out.”
The emperor surveyed the courtyard. “Good advice.”
Yuso’s expression shifted into careful neutrality. “Your Highness, we cannot afford to take any prisoners”—he glanced at the fallen figure of one of his guards—”nor care for any injured who cannot ride.”
I saw Ryko straighten, as if in protest. The other imperial guard who had survived the skirmish glanced uncertainly at the islander, then back at the captain.
