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“My organs are sh-shutting down,” Delora whispered. “There’s n-nothing you can do while her power is working in my body, so you n-need to listen.”

“This is my fault,” Kiva moaned. “She came for the dagger because I —”

“Listen,”Delora urged, as more blood trickled down her chin. “The dagger —”

“I know it’s the Eye of the Gods,” Kiva said, wanting her grandmother to stop speaking, to rest. “I know Zuleeka can use it to take the throne.”

“No, you d-don’t understand,” Delora said, before launching into another coughing fit, pressing her free hand to her abdomen, her other still holding Kiva’s in a death grip. “The dagger — Sarana used it on Torvin. It’s how she s-saved the kingdom.”

Jaren had mentioned that before she’d fled the palace — how some of the legends claimed the queen had used it against the king, nearly killing him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kiva said soothingly, dabbing the blood off Delora’s rapidly paling face. “We need to get you some —”

“Kiva,”Delora snapped, a burst of frustration strengthening her voice. “That dagger can take away magic. It was a gift from the gods — a gift for Sarana to use against Torvin. A gift tostophim.”

Kiva rocked backwards, her ears ringing in the wake of Delora’s damning words.

That dagger can take away magic.

“I don’t —” Kiva breathed, unable to finish her horrified sentence.

Delora released Kiva and lifted her hem to reveal a jagged scar across her stomach, the death magic still swirling around her pale skin.

“You wanted to know how I repressed my magic?” Delora asked, her voice growing weak again. “I s-stabbed myself with that blade. The Eye drew every scrap of power out of me, eliminating any chance that I’d ever use it to hurt someone. I d-didn’t want to live with that fear.”

Kiva stared at the scar, even as realization hit her. “The potion — I tried to recreate it, but it didn’t work because — because —”

“It was n-never about the ingredients,” Delora confirmed. “I used the dagger to make it.That’swhat stopped your magic.” She took Kiva’s hands again, both of them this time, her aged flesh cold and clammy. “You’re different from them, Kiva, the light to their darkness. Your magic is pure, your heart is true. I c-can sense it.”

A tear leaked down Kiva’s cheek, not just at the words, but because she could feel Delora fading. It wouldn’t be long now.

“But you m-must be careful,” Delora went on weakly — so very weakly. “One mistake is all it will take, one p-poor choice. You have to fight it. Don’t become like them.” With a final pained gasp, Delora summoned the last of her strength to whisper, “Be the light in the dark, Kiva.”

And then her eyes closed, the black mist vanishing into nothing as she breathed her last.

Kiva bowed her head, tears dripping off her chin. She’d barely known her grandmother, and yet, she knew Delora didn’t deserve to meet this end.

This was Zuleeka’s doing.

She’d killed their grandmother.

Murderedher.

And she had the dagger — a weapon that could steal not only Jaren’s kingdom ... but also his magic.

Kiva lurched to her feet, scrubbing a hand over her face. Delora needed to be buried, but Kiva would have to return for that later. Right now, she had to get to the palace and warn Jaren, even if it meant revealing the truth about who she was. Too much was at stake to risk keeping the danger to herself. They needed to guard the queen’s Signet and prepare for Zuleeka’s death magic however they could. Because while Kiva had seen the strength of the Vallentis’s elemental powers, they had no idea what Zuleeka was capable of. And if she were to attack without warning ...especiallywith that dagger ...

Kiva cast one final glance at her grandmother, and then ran from the room, determined to keep her sister from harming anyone else that night — or ever again.

The ride back to Vallenia was just as harrowing as the journey to Blackwater Bog, but Kiva pushed her mount faster, terror and desperation brewing within her, along with a rising dread that she was already too late. There was no telling how long ago Zuleeka had left Murkwood Cottage, but Kiva hadn’t passed her on the journey. She could already be at the palace and —

Enough!Kiva mentally screamed, unwilling to travel further down that road.

When finally the palace gates rose before her, Kiva nearly wept, sweat coating both her and her mount as they sailed right past the guards and along the manicured garden path. She barely came to a halt before leaping off her horse, thrusting the reins at a manservant, and bounding through the pillared entryway. Her lungs burned, her sides ached, but on she ran, taking the stairs two at a time as she sprinted directly for the ballroom, bursting through the ornate doors to find —

Dancing couples. Laughing faces. Boisterous conversations.

Nothing had changed.