Page 56 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)

“I can’t!” My objection comes out as a bellow that shakes the room—or maybe that’s the thunder.

Pretha isn’t fazed. “I think you’re getting in your own way. Let’s circle back to those deep-breathing exercises and then

try again.”

This has been going on for hours , and every minute that passes without me summoning flame is another minute I’m closer to losing my life to Mordeus. Another

minute closer to my sister losing her court.

“We need to take a break,” Kendrick says. “She’s exhausted.”

“Of course,” Pretha says, but I don’t miss her glance at the clock. We are all much too aware of the clock.

Kendrick offers me his hand, then guides me from my chair. His arm snakes around my shoulders as he leads me past two guards

and to the door.

One of them grumbles something behind us, and everything seems to happen at once.

Kendrick suddenly spins, lunges for the sentinel, and pins him against the wall. “What did you just say?”

Iron sings as the other sentinel pulls her blade, but she hesitates, clearly unsure if she’s supposed to protect her brother in arms or the queen’s guest.

“Everyone calm down,” Pretha says, standing as slowly as someone surrounded by angry wild animals. “Kendrick, what happened?”

“This piece of shit opened his mouth.”

“Not helpful,” Pretha mutters.

“I’m sorry,” the sentinel says, eyes never leaving Kendrick’s. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

The steady thud of boots on stone grows closer and my sister appears in the doorway. “What’s happening here?” Brie asks, looking

between Kendrick and her sentinel.

“Tell the queen what you said,” Kendrick says, eyes blazing with fury.

The room glows brighter for a beat as lightning flashes outside.

“I didn’t mean it,” he blubbers.

“Kendrick,” my sister says coolly. “Please put down my sentinel and back away.”

Kendrick sneers at the male one last time before doing as she asks. Brie smoothly slides between them, mouth in a thin line

as she looks over the now-trembling guard.

“Tell me what you said that upset my guest so much,” she commands her guard, cocking her head to the side.

The sentinel’s throat bobs. “I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean it.”

“Tell me.”

He glances to each person in the room, as if someone might save him.

“Look at me ,” Brie says, each word directed at him like a blow. “I am your queen and I asked you a question.”

“The princess has been unsuccessful in wielding her flame,” he says, his voice trembling as much as the hands at his sides.

“I foolishly asked at what point we consider the other way to make sure there’s no life for Mordeus to take.”

I flinch like I’ve been slapped. Not because I can’t handle the cruel words of some random shadow court sentinel but because

he’s only highlighting what everyone in this room has probably been thinking for hours—my inability to find the power that

supposedly lives inside me could mean the end for everyone here.

“I didn’t mean it, and I shouldn’t have said it,” the sentinel blubbers. “I was only thinking of my queen, worried for my

court, and I spoke recklessly. Please accept my apology, Your Majesty.”

“Prenley,” Brie says, coolly addressing the other guard. “Please escort Yarrow to my dungeons.”

“My queen,” Yarrow begs. “Please understand. I wouldn’t—”

She holds up a hand and though his mouth keeps moving, his words make no sound. “You do not want me to make a final decision about what to do with you right now.” Her voice is cool but the shadows weaving around her ankles

and wrists give her away. “Trust me when I say you are safer in the dungeons with the rats than you are in my presence. Be

grateful.” She drops her hand and he gasps.

“Yes, my queen.” His lips tremble. “Thank you, my queen.”

Prenley returns her sword to its sheath and guides Yarrow away without risking a single questioning glance in her queen’s direction.

“I’m sorry about that,” Brie says to me when they’re gone, jaw ticking.

Mortification sits like lead on my chest. I want to scream that he wasn’t wrong. That maybe we should stop looking for magic

that isn’t there and start looking at other options. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She arches a brow, still the haughty queen. “But I did. I expect better behavior from my sentinels. I can’t and won’t allow

them to disrespect their princess.” She takes a deep breath and as she releases it, some of her vengeful ruler demeanor falls

away. She glances between me, Kendrick, and Pretha and her expression grows somber. “No progress?”

Pretha shakes her head. “None of the strategies we’ve used thus far have worked.”

“She needs a break,” Kendrick says.

Fast, thudding steps sound in the hall and another sentinel rushes into the room. “Your Majesty,” the male says, “General

Hargova sends word from the palace gates. There are soldiers approaching the capital now.”

Brie frowns. “The general is at the palace gates? When did he...” Her face goes pale, but she wastes no time before turning

away and sprinting down the hall.

I grab Kendrick’s hand and we follow her down one corridor and into another sitting room, where Misha and Felicity—in my form—are

standing and seem to be having a silent conversation.

“Where’s the general?” Brie demands, scanning the room.

Felicity pales. “He needed to use the facilities. The handmaid took him.”

“How long ago was that?” Brie asks.

Felicity looks to Misha, panic all over her face. “I’m not...”

Brie turns to one of the sentinels standing by the door. “How long ago did Hargova leave this room?”

“It’s been maybe a quarter of an hour, Your Majesty. The maid took him toward the lavatory around the corner.”

“What is it, Brie?” I ask.

“General Hargova just sent word from the palace gates. Which means the General Hargova I met with this afternoon was someone

else.” She looks to each of us before turning her full attention on the sentinel. “There’s an impostor in this palace disguised

as the general, and we need to find him.”

“A shifter?” the sentinel asks. “I apologize for not noticing, Your Majesty. Next time, I’ll—”

“Not quite a shifter,” Felicity says, voice weak. “He’s an Echo. You couldn’t have known.”

“I’ll sound the alarm,” the sentinel says, and within seconds the halls are filled with guards searching for our intruder.

“Erith?” Misha asks Felicity.

“I think so, yes.”

“Aren’t you the only one who can kill him?” I ask Felicity. “Surely he knew you were staying here, even if he thought I was

the one in the meeting. Why get so close to the only person who can kill him?”

“Because we took back the Grimoricon,” Brie says. She rushes from the room and toward her office, and I follow after her,

Kendrick following after me.

“Jasalyn,” he says. “We need to get you somewhere safe. Erith is incredibly dangerous.”

“Brie!” I shout, but she turns the corner to her office before skidding to a stop, frozen.

I see why a moment after she does. In the hall in front of Brie’s closed office doors, four sentinels and a handmaid lie pale

and lifeless—looking every bit like victims of the faceless plague.

I check my hand to make sure the ring didn’t come back somehow.

“This was Erith,” Kendrick says.

Brie reaches for the door handle and is thrown back against the wall. “Wards,” she seethes. “Wards around my own damned office

in my own damned palace.”

Screams tear through the air and echo through the palace halls, so loud and piercing they mask the ceaseless thunder rolling

overhead.

Confused, I look back and forth between Kendrick and Brie. “What is—”

Three males come around the corner, blades drawn. Their eyes go wide when they spot us—or rather, when they spot the shadow

queen, who is still scrambling to her feet after being thrown by the wards.

Blades sing all around me as the males lunge for us. Kendrick shoves me behind him and plunges his sword through the chest

of the first in line. The other two roar, and charge.

Brie throws out her hands and shadows wrap around them, holding them in place while Kendrick slices his sword across their

throats.

They fall to the floor with a wet thud that turns my stomach, but I make myself look. At their drab olive uniforms, at the upturned crescent moons tattooed on their necks.

This is the consequence of me not finding my powers. Mordeus’s forces will attack my sister and her people until the palace is theirs.

Kendrick takes me by the shoulders and turns me to him. “Are you okay?”

“Kendrick!” I try to shove him aside as the next attacker turns the corner and throws her dagger, but Kendrick is faster and

puts himself between me and the flying steel.

It hits him in the side of his arm, making him drop his sword.

As Kendrick crouches to retrieve it, his opponent lunges with her own sword, only to freeze mid-swing, then fall to the ground.

Remme’s chest heaves as he scans each of us—looking his king over twice. “You’re hit.”

“I’m fine.” Kendrick rises, sword in hand. “What is happening , Remme? Where did they come from?”

“Portals are opening all through the palace, and dozens of these assholes are pouring out of each one.” He looks to Brie,

who’s leaning against the wall as if wielding enough shadow to paralyze those two fighters used up all her magic.

“Brie, are you okay?”

“The wards,” she says, nodding to her office door. “They zinged my power a bit, but it’s trickling back.”

Remme curses. “How is this happening?” He glances to the door. “Who’s in there?”

“Erith,” Kendrick says. “He got into the palace by taking the form of General Hargova and has locked himself in the queen’s office.”

“Why?” Remme asks, scanning the area again and again, as if waiting for more of Mordeus’s forces to attack.

“The Grimoricon is in there,” I tell him.

Brie nods. “He’s the one opening the portals.”