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“No,” I shouted. “Don’t let him in. I’ll do it. I’m asking for your silence, Mercurial,” I said. “Now! Please. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Lyr, no!” Rhyan cried, his voice full of anguish. “It was my fault!”

A slow smile spread across Mercurial’s face, and his eyes gleamed with joy like those of a cat who’d just found his prey and knew he had all the time in the world to play with it.

The door stilled, the lock clicking back into place. Footsteps echoed, moving away from the room.

“What did you do to him?” I asked.

Mercurial tossed his hair over his shoulder. “He just remembered he already looked in this room.” His eyes narrowed. “You weren’t here. You can get dressed now.”

The straps of my dress moved up my arms, and my necklace floated off the ground, draping itself across my shoulders and chest. The clasp sealed itself with a loud snap as my hair was swept aside. Rhyan seethed as his own clothes were put back in place and neatened, his jacket buttoning up, his belt sliding around his hips and buckling. Mercurial even added a little muss to his hair.

“Now to sign the contract.” He held out his palm, and his sparkling, golden Valalumir appeared, spinning. It was beautiful, mesmerizing. Mercurial twisted his arm, his hand undulating as the star rolled up and down his palm. It started to spin faster and faster. “Rise, Lady Lyriana Batavia, Heir to the Arkasva, High Lord of Bamaria. And stand before me.”

I did, walking slowly to him, my hands pressed to my sides to keep from shaking. Mercurial’s arm shot out, and Rhyan groaned, slamming into a wall. Valya scrolls crashed to the ground and rolled in every direction. “This contract is between me and her. Not you. Stop interfering.” His fingers snapped. Rhyan’s head smacked the wall. “Stop hurting yourself.”

Rhyan groaned.

“Leave him alone, Mercurial, and deal with me,” I said. “Where do I sign?”

Mercurial chuckled. “You child. We are not so uncivil as that in the Afeyan courts.” He held the Valalumir out before me. “There’s no ink in our contracts. No names. You mortals barely hold onto them. You won’t even have to bleed this time, your grace.” He laughed. “For one contract to end, as another begins, it’s simply… this.” He jerked his chin to the flowing Valalumir. “A little bit of my soul wrapped up in a speck of light from the original Valalumir. It goes into your heart.”

My heart pounded in response, the beat so fast and hard my knees weakened.

“Lyr, no!” Rhyan yelled. “Don’t do this. I’ll take the blame. I’ll say I forced you. You’re innocent.”

“They’ll kill you,” I said. “I’m doing this.”

“Smart girl,” Mercurial said. “It will be fast. It doesn’t hurt…much. You will always feel its presence. Feel its weight in there. You’ll be reminded of what is owed to the First Messenger day and night until the debt is paid, and then, and only then, will I extract it.”

“And if I fail to pay the debt?” I asked.

“Fail to pay my debt, and the star inside your heart will catch fire, burning you to cinders from within.”

“No!” Rhyan yelled.

“Fine,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. “Do it.” I braced myself, grabbing hold of my belt, desperate for something to hold onto. My chest rose and fell, unable to remain calm. I braced for the pain.

But the sensation never came.

Bells began to ring—not the hourly bells. The warning bells. Once. Twice. Three times. I’d only ever heard those bells ring once before. At the end of summer, a week before my birthday. These bells rang for one reason, and one reason only.

Akadim.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“Thatwouldbemycue to leave,” Mercurial said, slinking toward the door. He kicked a scroll on the ground out of his way, letting it roll to my feet. “You would not want to fight an akadim who was once Afeya if I should fall. And I am not in the mood to brawl tonight with lesser soulless beings.” The Valalumir spinning in his hand vanished. His dark eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “The next time I see you, your grace, you will sign the contract.”

“What about our deal?” Rhyan yelled. He tried to push himself off the wall against Mercurial’s spell that was trapping him there.

“Notourdeal, my not-lord,” Mercurial seethed. He snapped his fingers, and Rhyan—still struggling to move from the wall—was freed. He stumbled forward. “Hers. And mine. Not yours.” His eyes narrowed, fixing on Rhyan. “Not this time.” Mercurial swiveled his head, looking back to me. “Fear not, your grace. No one will see or suspect you two. If you’re seen together, if you go missing, all of your behavior will be excused for the next three hours, though I wouldn’t push things too far. Consider it an act of good faith on my part. I do want to collect payment, after all. Do me one favor—try not to die out there. Too soon for that.”

“I’ll get you to Cresthaven,” Rhyan said, facing me. “You have a whole team ready to protect you. You’ll be safe.”

“It’s too late for that,” Mercurial said, tapping his chin. “They’re not at the border. No, no, no. They’re here—surrounding the building. Three of them, if my senses are still intact.”

The room shook as if something had crashed into the temple walls. Screams sounded beyond the door, yells of panic and fear erupting as another round of bells sounded off, echoing into the night. I’d never heard those bells used before. They were a specific three-part combination—a code I’d memorized as a girl in case the day came that they were ever to be called. And today was that day. The akadim hadn’t just breached the border, they were deep into the heart of Bamaria.