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CALLYN

My breathing is so loud, rattling in and out of my chest. Everything is so cold . A high-pitched whine carries over everything, and I think it’s me, keening. My entire body seems to be moving in slow motion. I’ve grabbed Alek’s sword, but I’ll never be fast enough to stop the scraver. Alek’s blood has sprayed everywhere, and his arm flops crookedly away from his body as the creature slashes him with its claws again.

With every pulse of my heart, I feel stars sparking through my veins. It’s magic, and I know it, but it’s useless. I don’t know what to do with it.

But then I’m moving, the sword braced in my hand. Frost crawls up the length of the blade, but I don’t stop.

At the last moment, the scraver turns, and the screech that pours from its throat is enough to stop me in my tracks. Alek’s blood has sprayed across its chest, and I see viscera spilling from the slash marks in his abdomen.

In my moment of hesitation, the scraver leaps off him, and flies at me .

“ No! ” I scream—and with the sound, those sparks and stars in my blood seem to explode out of me. A rush of wind blasts from behind me, and the world goes vivid white, almost blinding. It only lasts a second, but the scraver is flung back, slamming into the ground twenty feet away.

When the light fades, the creature claws at the ground, trying to right itself. Its wings are splayed awkwardly, and one seems broken. I won’t flinch this time. It shrieks again, black eyes focusing on me as I bear down with the sword.

“ Magesmith ,” it growls, claws flexing.

I don’t care what else it might say, and I don’t get the chance to learn. I drive that sword right into its chest, thrusting so hard that it presses into the grass underneath. The scraver is gasping, scrabbling for the weapon, but it’s all the way through its body, and it can’t get a grip.

I don’t care. I turn and run back to Alek.

My breathing is still so loud, my heart hammering against my ribs. The vivid red of his jacket is in shreds across his chest and abdomen, and blood is everywhere.

I press my hands against his wounds, whimpering. “Please. Please. ” But he’s so still, not moving. His face has gone ashen. Blood sticks to my fingers, and I wait for those sparks and stars to flare in my blood again.

Another icy wind blows across my skin, and I snap my head up.

“I already killed one of you,” I cry, and my voice breaks. “I can do it again.”

For a moment, another breeze lifts my hair . . . ?but then it’s gone.

I look back at Alek. He’s still not moving.

But the bleeding has slowed. Is that my magic? Or is he simply dying?

I shift my hands, seeking further injury. I can feel the sparks and stars again, and I take a slow breath, trying to remember how it felt when I helped to heal my little sister.

And then, bit by bit, his skin begins to knit back together.

A sob of relief breaks free of my chest—and then again, when Alek’s eyes open, and he inhales sharply.

I choke on my breath. “Hold still,” I say, and I realize I’m crying. I shift my hands. “Please—I’m not—I’m not done—”

He makes an agonized sound, then clenches his jaw, going silent. He’s breathing through his teeth, almost panting like a wounded animal.

“I’m sorry,” I say, remembering how quick the king was. He surely has a lot more practice. “I’m trying to be quick.”

When I shift my hands again, his eyes clench closed, but he doesn’t make a sound. Every muscle on his frame is tighter than a bowstring.

But then the wounds are closed, and all that’s left are the shallower scratches across his shoulder, with one along the lowest part of his jaw.

I lift my hand to reach for those, and he grabs hold of my wrist.

The motion is quick. Sharp. Almost painful. It steals my breath.

“I’m not done,” I gasp. “Let me help—”

“You are done.”

His voice is low and dark, almost a growl. At first I can’t figure out why. But his blue eyes are so cold, his expression full of betrayal.

And then I get it.

It’s too much, especially after everything we did before the scraver arrived. I swallow and glance at his hand, still holding my wrist. “Alek—”

“ Magic , Callyn?” His breathing is almost shaking. Anger? Or fear?

“You were dying! I didn’t know —” His grip tightens, and I gasp, then jerk against his hold. “You’re hurting me.”

He lets go so suddenly that I nearly fall in the road. I rub at my wrist, but he gets to his feet, glaring down at me.

“I helped you,” I snap, climbing to my feet.

His eyes flare wide, and he takes a step back. It sends a chill right through my gut.

Because I remember the moment I did the exact same thing to the king.

For the longest time, we stand there in the sunlight, staring at each other. We’re both angry. Afraid. Betrayed.

Alek runs a hand across his jaw, but he encounters the scratches and gives a sudden hiss of pain. When he speaks, his voice goes quiet. “You lied to me.”

Another chill rolls through me. “Please,” I say softly. “You must understand. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Does the king know?” he says. “Are you truly a spy for him ?” He shakes his head, not waiting for an answer. “He summoned this creature, didn’t he? You told him where we’d be. All your accusations against me , and I was foolish enough to—”

“I am not a spy for the king!” I cry. I’m horrified to hear my voice break. I can’t believe our intimacy has turned into this. “I didn’t break the carriage!”

“Then does the queen know?”

I draw a sharp breath—and say nothing.

His expression darkens, and he takes another step back. “She trusts you with her child , Callyn.”

“It’s not like that! Would you stop it? She’s—”

“She trusts you, and you are lying to her.” His voice is vicious.

“Please, Alek.” I’m gasping now, because I’m seeing how this could play out. I didn’t expect his anger, his revulsion. Is this what it’s like for the king every time he uses magic?

I remember the day Jax’s hand was burned in the forge. He was terrified he wouldn’t be able to use it for months—if it would ever heal. Lord Tycho appeared, using his magic to heal it.

Jax and I were so afraid that we chased him out of the bakery.

Yes , I think. This is what it’s like every time.

“I love Princess Sinna,” I say. “I am not a threat! Not to you, not to her, not to the queen . She herself—”

Alek inhales sharply, and I freeze, realizing what I was about to say.

She herself has magic.

But because I am loyal and I am trustworthy, I hold my tongue. I have to choke back a sob. “ She herself married the king, knowing the powers of his magic. I didn’t know mine . But I am not a threat.”

He stares at me. In the grass behind him, the dead scraver has long since stopped trying to claw at the blade. Alek turns away from me and walks to the creature, then yanks his sword from the body. It gives with a sickening wet sound, and he wipes the blade in the grass.

Then he turns back to me.

The look in his eyes is enough to make me step back this time.

“Alek,” I whisper.

Thundering hoofbeats echo along the road, and we both snap our heads around to look. There’s a carriage, followed by two other men on horseback. Within seconds, they’re nearly upon us. I recognize Alek’s driver in the seat at the front of the carriage, and the footman is one of the men on horseback.

“My lord!” the footman cries. “We were coming to warn you! Scravers were spotted—”

He breaks off as he draws close, seeing the scraver’s body near Alek’s feet, the still-bloodied sword in his hand. I watch as every man’s eyes shift to the bloodstained remnants of Alek’s shirt and jacket, and then to me, standing over the blood spattered on the ground.

“You killed it,” the footman says, drawing the horse to a halt. His voice is hushed, and he looks at me again. “Lady Callyn. You were injured?”

I shake my head quickly, but I can’t look away from Alek. He’s still holding that sword, his eyes still locked on me.

Please , I think.

He could kill me right here, and there’d be nothing I could do about it.

I swallow thickly.

Eventually, he looks at the driver. “Filcher,” he says hollowly. “Return Lady Callyn to the Crystal Palace at once. Adim, remain here so the carriage can be repaired. I will take your horse and continue on to Spitnare. Lord Hashten needs to be advised.”

“But, my lord—your safety—”

“I’m fine.” He sheaths the sword. “Get Lady Callyn home. There are surely matters she needs to resolve.”

The air feels thin and hard to breathe again, but now it’s my own doing, my lungs refusing to work. “Alek—”

“ My lord ,” he snaps.

His voice is so cold that my blood turns to ice. It’s terrifying that I can’t tell how much is anger—and how much is fear.

“Talk to the queen,” he continues. “Tell her what has happened here.” His eyes flash. “ Everything that has happened.”

I square my shoulders. The queen is already distancing herself from the king due to concerns about magic. Who else will Alek tell? What will this mean for me?

What will it mean for my sister ?

But he’s standing there with a sword on his hip, and he’s given his footman an order. I can’t run. I can’t force him to take me with him.

So I give him a nod. “Yes, my lord.”

And then I climb into the carriage.

For the entire ride back to the palace, I hug my arms to my body. Alek was so angry. So . . . afraid . The worst part is that I can still feel him, and my thoughts can’t comprehend how we were so close, and now we’re not. Every time I blink, I see his body lying crumpled beside the carriage. Then I see him standing there glaring at me, that bloodstained sword in his hand.

Not even ten minutes earlier, he was looking at me like the most precious thing in the world.

My throat is so tight, and I’m desperately trying not to cry.

I don’t know what he’s going to do. Is he going to tell all the other nobles? Is he sending me back to the palace in the hopes Queen Lia Mara will make an example of me?

And . . . would she? I know how desperately she wants to hide her own magic. She wants to prove to her people that she’s on their side. Would she do something to me to prove that?

The thought makes me want to leap out of the carriage. But I can’t leave Nora. Even if I disappeared, I have no doubt Alek would return to the palace to tell everyone what happened. I can’t risk anyone going after my sister.

Could I go to the king? Would he be an ally here?

But what would I say? My visits with Alek were a secret. My magic is a secret.

If I thought you were a risk to the princess, you wouldn’t be here.

Would he see my magic as a threat to Princess Sinna? As a threat to him ?

I have no idea what to do.

By the time we return to the palace, I’ve been able to compose myself. I ask the driver to take me around to the lesser used servants’ entrance on the far side of the training arena. When I press through the doors, I keep my head down, my bloodstained hands tucked in the folds of my skirts. I need to find Nora.

The hallway is so empty and I’m so singularly focused on not being seen that I don’t realize someone is coming the other way until my shoulder slams into a man, and someone else puts out a hand to catch me before I ricochet into the wall.

I look up, finding that same young soldier in gold-and-red Emberish armor, which takes me by surprise—until I realize the man next to him is Lord Tycho.

“Callyn,” he says in surprise. His eyes skip down my form, and I have no idea how much he can tell from my appearance, but I know he can tell something .

“I need to get to the queen,” I say.

“What happened?”

Words stall in my throat. I don’t know how much to say. I remember the queen standing at the window, talking about how the king wasn’t saying anything to her . But surely the king should know about this attack, too, right?

My thoughts are still spinning wildly. I don’t know the right answer. I don’t know who I can trust.

When I say nothing, the other soldier with Tycho looks from him to me and then down at my hands, then says something in Emberish.

Tycho glances at him, then back at me. “Were you hurt? Do you need to sit—”

“No.” I shake my head forcefully. “I need to get to the queen.”

“Is it Sinna? Tell me what happened.”

I step away from him. If Queen Lia Mara wants the king to know, she can tell him herself. “Princess Sinna is fine,” I say. “This is—this is nothing to do with that. I have to—”

The other soldier steps in front of me, blocking my path. For an instant, I freeze, glaring up at him, but Tycho puts a hand on his arm.

The other man glances between us again, but after a moment, he steps aside. I hurry past them both, practically running when the hallways empty.

I don’t pause when I get to the royal suites, because I don’t want the guards there to look too closely at me either. I still have no idea what I’m going to say to the queen about any of this, and my heart won’t stop pounding.

But when I arrive, I only find my sister and the little princess, again playing Wolf and Stone.

They look up in surprise when I arrive, and I tuck my hands into the skirts of my gown again.

“Cally-cal!” they cry, like they’re both my little sisters. Nora is smiling brightly. “I told Sinna we could go outside once you got back.” She glances at the window. “You’re not as late as I thought.”

My heart won’t stop pounding. “Is the queen here?” I choke out.

“No,” says Nora. Her voice is a little hushed, and she adds, “She said she would be in discussion with the king this morning.”

I stare at her, wondering if the king and queen have grown so distant that even Nora has noticed it. I have a flash of memory of that moment when she was trying on her fighting clothes, how I realized she was growing up while I wasn’t paying attention.

She’s noticing a lot more than I’ve realized.

Just now, she’s peering at me more closely. “Are you unwell?” Her eyes narrow. “Is that blood—”

Princess Sinna gasps.

“No! No, of course not.” I swallow and shake my head quickly. “I was—I was with one of the House lords, and the carriage hit a muddy puddle.”

I’m lying. I don’t know why I’m lying.

Can I interrupt the queen? I’m not even sure what I’d say.

Alek and I were attacked by a scraver, but we survived because I have magic .

No.

And if she’s finally speaking to the king, I don’t want to interrupt that at all.

Then I consider all my meetings with the Royal Houses.

Maybe the king and queen are issuing declarations of war.

I never even had a chance to tell her what Tycho said.

I move to the window where the queen looked down over the fields. I can see Tycho and that soldier now, crossing the fields, heading for the soldier barracks and the stables. Other soldiers are engaged in training exercises in the sunlight, but I don’t recognize anyone else.

“Callyn?”

My sister’s voice is quiet and low, right beside me. She’s looking at me carefully, and she reaches out to take one of my hands. When she looks down at my fingers, I inhale sharply, ready to tell her to be quiet , but I don’t need to.

Her own voice drops, and she doesn’t mention the blood. “Are you all right?”

My throat almost closes up. I nod, then shake my head and say, “I don’t know.”

Nora squeezes my hand. “Go change out of these muddy clothes,” she says. “I’ll call for tea.”

“And we can still go outside?” says little Sinna.

Nora looks at me, her eyes questioning.

I take a long breath. I can’t interrupt the king and queen. But I do know I care about my sister, and my primary charge was to look after little Sinna.

Remembering that is what puts some steel back in my spine.

I look at the blue sky and the hundreds of soldiers on the training fields, then down at the sprawling, sunlit gardens.

The attack from the scraver feels so far away that I could have imagined it.

“Yes, Your Highness,” I say to Princess Sinna. “Let me change, and we’ll go play in the gardens.”

Nora doesn’t let go of my hand. She hasn’t looked away from my face.

Is it safe? she mouths.

She really has grown so much over the last year.

But I have no idea how to answer her question. I press a hand to that pendant hanging over my heart. Regardless of what Alek thinks, magic did save him, and it kept me safe. It kept my sister safe. It kept the princess safe.

And that magic is inside me .

So I look into my sister’s eyes, and I nod.