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“Ophelia, you need to drop the veil,” Dax said, hand tightening on his ax.

“It’s the only thing protecting us!” But he was right. I couldn’t keep trying to shield them.

“Those weapons won’t work on her!”

From the background, Rina’s voice said, “Do it, Ophelia.” And there was a firm conviction in her tone.

She had had enough time. She and Barrett were ready.

“Say the word, Mystique,” Lancaster ground out as Kakias tightened her hold on his throat. Both of the fae watched me, waiting for me to give a signal of what to do. Deferring to me in a warrior matter so their kind could not be blamed.

But they did not realize she was near-immortal. Those weapons alone would not end her.

Over the fae’s shoulder, a movement as subtle as the wind rippled through the darkness.

Lancaster tilted his head, hearing it, too. His nostrils flared, scenting who it was, and when I dipped my chin minutely, he nodded.

And I let the light fall.

It happened over staggered seconds, Damien’s emblem light retreating under my summons first. My head spun as it slammed back into me. Gaveny’s and Ptholenix’s came next, Thorn’s wild clouds evaporating into the night until the courtyard was once again bathed only by mystlight and the moon streaking through the glass overhead.

But the moment the last of the light came back to me, Kakias sent a desperate spear of darkness shooting across the courtyard.

And it sank deep into Dax’s gut.

“NO!” Barrett’s voice echoed from where he hid in the shadows behind Kakias and the fae. And with a ragged cry, he pounced on his mother.

Tolek caught Dax as he fell.

Lancaster and Mora held Kakias’s arms, ignoring the lashes of her power as it struck them. Barrett wrenched her head back, widening her jaw. I ran to them, gripping her hair and taking the tonic from the prince’s shaking hands.

The one Santorina had been brewing in the shadows since we arrived. The one meant to reverse the queen’s immortality ritual if it was made correctly.

The blood of the Chosen, transformed under the light of midnight, stirred with elements of sacred land…

We’d been shooting arrows blindly into the dark, but we tipped it down her throat now and slammed her mouth shut, forcing her to swallow.

Her dark magic whipped at my back and hands. It stung, sliced, and bled.

And it grew.

A mighty shadow roared from the queen, sweeping over the courtyard, mystlight barely fighting through it. It breathed like a wind and dripped like the tarred substance that created her power. Like the essence of Bant’s Blackfyre.

The ethereal being tunneled through the doors and windows. Glass shattered, rock crumbled, and Kakias screamed in a voice not entirely her own, “The army must stand! Feuds long-fought prevail!”

The army.

“No,” I gasped under the whips against my skin. My gut churned, but I forced myself to stand as my flesh tore and wind pummeled us. “She’s sending it to the mountains!”

Kakias was using what little control she retained over her magic to cast it away from her body—to attack our army and fortify her own.

I was vaguely aware of Barrett charging across the stones to his consort, sobbing as he sank to his side. But I couldn’t focus over the bubbling sensation in my stomach. It boiled through my chest and extended along my limbs.

I screamed, staggering back, and falling to my knees. Sapphire echoed the noise.

My blood. My blood had been in that tonic. It had been the key to her wicked schemes. It was the answer to her undoing.

And now it was boiling beneath my skin as it worked to reverse unnatural abuses and ancient secrets. It pulled at the frayed edges of my being, at my scorned and healing heart, and the Angel-tainted life source beating through my veins.