Page 110

58

T eryn tried to step into his body, but it was no use. Morkai’s grip on Teryn’s cereba was too strong. It was nowhere near as malleable as it was when the sorcerer was asleep. The only time he’d managed to control his body while awake was when he’d intercepted Cora’s kiss. He couldn’t fathom what was different now, aside from Cora’s obvious absence. Perhaps the Roizan was to blame. Already Teryn could tell the sorcerer’s magic was stronger. No longer forced to rely on spells cast on paper, he could weave blood through the air like he had before he’d died.

Morkai was doing so now. A pattern formed over his open palm, one intricate line at a time. It was constructed from two strands—one emerging from the vial in his hand, the other from the blood that seeped from the cut in his forearm.

Teryn cast a glance at his brother and found him engaged with the Roizan. They clashed, a flurry of claws and teeth versus the sword Larylis had managed to snatch from the ground. Teryn’s eyes flashed back to the weaving Morkai was creating, the strands of blood that danced through the air in complex loops and lines. He knew better than to trust what Morkai had said; there was no way he’d let Larylis live. He knew what his plans for Mareleau were—to provide Emylia a body—but even she would have to die to bring it to fruition. And since Morkai had Teryn’s body to blame for all that he did, all that he forced Larylis and Mareleau to sacrifice, he had a workaround over the rule that the crown must be given not taken .

Teryn looked back at the fight. It had barely begun, but already Larylis had suffered a slice over his torso. Though Teryn had a feeling the battle was more than one of survival. If Morkai was forging a blood weaving…

“He’ll make Larylis part of his Roizan,” he said under his breath. With a renewed sense of urgency, he stepped into his body once more, felt the buzzing resistance all around him. His ethera fought against the movements of a physical form not under his control. He aligned his ethera’s hands with his body’s hands, tried to wrest control, turn his wrist, drop the blood?—

“He’s not making another Roizan.” Emylia appeared before him, gaze locked on Morkai’s palm. Her eyes lifted to his, wide with terror. “Creating a Roizan with multiple human lives made it strong enough to do what he needs to do next. Your brother’s battle with the Roizan is a distraction. You saw how Morkai coughed up blood. He’s running out of time. You both are.”

Teryn glanced back at the pattern that continued to weave, studied the two distinct threads of blood that tangled together. Something tugged at the edges of his ethera, an unyielding pressure that grew with every beat of his heart.

“I recognize this pattern,” Emylia said. “He’s finalizing his possession of your body.”

Cora didn’t know where to look, what to do. Chaos filled the meadow as the fire continued to eat away at the tent, its flames now lapping up the sides of the next one over. Larylis was doing his best against the Roizan, focusing on dodging swipes and landing blows on its limbs to slow it down, but it was an unwinnable fight. His only advantage was the creature’s bulk and lack of agility. Even so, the Roizan was a monster of magic. She had no doubt it could outlast a human’s stamina. All it needed was one fatal swipe of claws. One violent kick of its rear hooves.

Then there was Teryn. She hoped his soul was safe for now, but Morkai was using his body to cast a blood weaving. She had to stop him. She had to do something .

Her hands went reflexively to her waist, her back, desperate for her bow or a dagger. The motions were futile; she already knew she’d find no weapon?—

Except…there was something there.

The hand that clutched her empty hip brushed over a lump in her pocket. She patted it again, making out the curved shape of the collar that had pierced her neck not long ago, rendering her magic null. Calm certainty flooded her as she extracted the device. Her eyes narrowed on Teryn’s body. She could cross the distance between them, collar him, and sever Morkai’s magic. It wouldn’t stop the Roizan from fighting Larylis, as the creature was its own vessel for magic, but she could at least stop Morkai from completing his weaving. It might even return Teryn’s soul to its rightful place.

She hoped.

Breathing deeply, she forced her nerves to steady, her mind to clear. She rooted her feet to the earth, gathered lungfuls of smoky air, let the flames dancing in the meadow fuel her fury, let her warm affection for Teryn guide her emotions, calling her to cross the space between them…

Light glinted off steel, and her eyes locked on the blade in Mareleau’s hand. Her stomach clenched, threatening to shatter her concentration. She exhaled her panic, focused on Teryn’s back, the familiar curve of his neck, the width of his shoulders, the sturdy feel of them beneath her palms.

Mareleau charged forward, thrust the blade toward the bottom of his ribs…

Cora closed her eyes.

Opened the two ends of the collar.

Took a step.

And felt the knife meant for Teryn sink into her shoulder.

Cora ignored the pain that radiated through her back, her arms, and instead focused on snapping the collar shut. Closing on its hinge, the pointed edges dug into Teryn’s neck. He went rigid, a cry escaping his lips. From behind him, she pressed her palms to the sides of his face, stood on tiptoe, and whispered his name.

“Teryn.”

The sound of Cora’s voice sent Teryn’s ethera surging into his body. Pain erupted at the sides of his neck, and he fell to his knees. Then she was there, rounding to the front of him, her hands framing his face, her voice caressing his ears. Ears that were his. A touch he could feel. Her face filled his vision, her brow knitted with concern.

He was home.

Home.

His body was his own.

“Cora!” Mareleau’s voice trembled as she crouched beside them. A dagger shook in her hand before falling to the ground. “Cora, I’m sorry.”

Cora’s throat bobbed. “Bind my shoulder,” she barked at Mareleau. “Hurry.”

Teryn blinked a few times, willing his mind to reconcile what was happening, the sensation of being whole again. Something still felt wrong. There remained a pull at the edges of his awareness. He shook the thought from his mind, more concerned with Cora. “Your shoulder,” he said, voice far weaker than he wanted. “What happened?”

“Mareleau stabbed me,” Cora said, though there was no ire in her tone, only cold logic. Her grimace, however, revealed her pain. Through her teeth, she said, “Luckily, she’s lousy with a blade.”

“It was meant for him,” Mareleau bit out, then pursed her lips as she tore the silk belt from around her robe and began wrapping it around Cora’s upper arm. “I…I thought he was Morkai. I thought Teryn was gone.”

Teryn swallowed the dryness in his throat and tasted blood. “I wouldn’t blame you,” he said to Mareleau, “if the blade had met its mark. If it rids us of Morkai?—”

“No.” Cora’s tone was sharp. She lowered the hand that belonged to the same side as her injured shoulder but kept the other on his cheek. Her touch was warm against his flesh. He was grateful for the pressure. It seemed to anchor him into his body. Did she know that? Was that why she wouldn’t sever the touch? “You aren’t sacrificing yourself, so don’t you dare suggest it.”

“Cora…” He lifted a hand, his moves slow and heavy, and managed to brush his thumb along her cheek. Even that much movement fatigued him. How long could he keep this up? As he dropped his hand, he felt a renewed surge of pain at the sides of his throat. “What is this?”

“It’s a collar that suppresses magic.”

He had no idea where she’d come across such an item, but if it was responsible for keeping Morkai at bay, he was grateful for it.

Something tugged on his awareness again. Pressure clawed at his ethera, trying to drag him out of his body. He winced. “He’s still fighting me.”

“And that thing is still fighting Larylis,” Mareleau said, tone frantic. “We have to help him.”

Cora whirled to the side, though she kept a hand on his cheek. Teryn frowned as something caught his attention. Hovering in the air above Cora’s head, nearly invisible amongst the chaos and commotion, was a tapestry of blood. Two interlocking threads wove tighter and tighter, moving of their own accord.

His pulse quickened. Morkai’s blood weaving…was finishing itself, even with the sorcerer no longer in control of Teryn’s body. He glanced at the gash in his arm, the hand that had held the vial of blood Morkai had used for the tapestry. Crimson had ceased streaming from his cut, and the glass bottle lay on the ground, its contents seeping into the earth. Yet that didn’t stop the tapestry from weaving higher and higher.

He lifted a hand and attempted to swipe his fingers through the pattern. An invisible force blocked him. Cora turned her attention back to him, then at the pattern suspended over her head. She gasped and shrank away from it. He tried again to swipe at it, from a different angle this time, but his fingers stopped an inch away.

The Roizan. It had to be the key, the reason Morkai’s magic endured despite the strange collar Cora had put around Teryn’s neck. And if the tapestry reached completion before Teryn could break the crystal…

Panic seared his heart, but alongside it was a cold and heavy sense of resolution. “I have to end this now.”

Cora’s brow furrowed as Teryn shrugged off his jacket and his waistcoat, then undid the buttons of his shirt. “What are you doing, Teryn?”

“I need a reed,” he said, voice weak but surprisingly calm.

“A reed?”

“To write with.” He reached the middle button of his shirt, revealing something underneath, strung by a leather strap. The nearby flames glinted off the facets of a crystal?—

He paused and covered it with his hand. “Don’t look at the light.”

She averted her gaze, but memories surged through her. The unbreakable stone. The night Teryn had fought through Morkai’s possession and told her the truth. The many enchantments that had forced her to forget about the object. She kept her eyes on his as he finished unbuttoning his shirt.

He spread the article on the grass before him and extracted a fresh vial from within his discarded waistcoat. “A reed,” he repeated. “Please, Cora.”

She jumped into action, plucking a tall slender stalk of grass that hadn’t been trampled by the Roizan. “What are you doing?” she repeated, handing it to him.

“Reversing the spell on the crystal so it’s no longer unbreakable. Once I finish drawing the pattern, you’ll need to take the crystal from around my neck, ensuring it’s no longer touching my body—at least sixteen inches away from my chest—and shatter it.” He unstoppered the vial and dipped the reed inside. Its tip dripped crimson as he brought it to the bottom hem of the back of the shirt. There he paused, eyes unfocused. Then he lifted his gaze to Cora’s, his free hand brushing his collarbone. “You said this device blocks magic?”

She nodded.

He cursed. “This won’t work unless we remove it. What I’m about to do is considered blood magic. I may not need to be a witch to draw the pattern, but…we can’t risk it not working. This could be our only chance.”

Anxiety raced through her. “The collar might be the only thing keeping Morkai at bay. You said he’s still fighting you. What if he regains control without it?”

“I’ll fight back,” he said, but as the words left his lips, a trail of blood began to trickle from his nose.

She crouched beside him again, tone frenzied. “He’s already hurting you. Teryn, you’re bleeding!”

His face fell, but there was no surprise in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes. If he regains control, touch me again and call my name.”

Tremors seized her. His battle with Morkai was killing him, that much was clear. The more he fought, the more his body suffered. But what other choice did they have?

“Remove the collar, Cora,” he said, tone soft. Mournful. Resolute. “We don’t have much time.”

She tried not to read too far into his words. Tried not to think what he meant by we don’t have much time . Tried not to hear the resignation in his tone that told her he was ready to die.

With trembling hands, she reached behind his neck, separated the two sides of the collar, and pulled it away.

He offered her a sad smile.

And began to paint with blood.