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T eryn knew Duke Morkai’s words were not to be taken as a request. It was a demand, and not just for him. The duke motioned Lex forward. Teryn found his friend against the wall, shoulders nearly as high as his ears. Lex’s eyes darted from Teryn to Morkai, then to the guards. Teryn still hadn’t had a chance to speak with Lex alone. He’d tried to call upon Lex earlier but had been turned away by a guard. The duke clearly had every intention of keeping them from communicating outside his presence.

Lex slowly pushed off from the wall and joined Teryn and Cora.

“Come,” Morkai said. “We shall all visit the garden together.” He started off toward the door and the guards gestured for Teryn and his companions to follow.

Cora didn’t hesitate before she marched after the duke, which was all it took to get Teryn and Lex moving too. Teryn saw no point in arguing. No point in facing off with the guards—heavily armed ones, he was quick to note. He’d been disarmed upon arriving at the castle, which meant he had absolutely no defense but his fists. His consolation was that visiting the garden meant going outside, which would offer Teryn a chance to scope out the castle grounds. All he needed was to find an empty part of the wall. A gate left unattended. He’d done more than simply tend his palfrey when he visited the stables earlier. He’d tended all three of their horses, gathered their belongings, hid them inside each pen in anticipation of a hasty escape. He’d meant to convince Cora to agree to work with him, but it seemed their dance had only widened the chasm he’d regrettably created. Regardless, Teryn was determined to get her out of the castle. Princess or no, she was in danger here. Her brother was a madman, and the duke…Teryn wasn’t entirely sure what the duke was just yet, but he had a feeling he was going to find out.

Lex leaned in close as they wove through the halls. “Care to share what in the name of the seven devils is going on?”

“We need to speak alone,” Teryn whispered back. “For now, know we aren’t safe here. None of us are. Don’t trust a word the duke says. I’m getting us out of the castle tonight.”

Lex opened his mouth to reply, but one of the guards gave him a shove between the shoulders, forcing them apart. Teryn bristled, his hands curling around air while yearning for a weapon. He’d never known a guard of any rank who’d consider laying a hand on a prince like that. In any other situation, the guard would lose his position, his hand, perhaps even his life.

Lex cut the guard an affronted glare but kept silent. He’d probably come to the same conclusion Teryn had—that these weren’t regular guards. They didn’t respect royal hierarchy. They followed Morkai, a duke, a man who stood below their king.

No duke should have the authority Morkai did.

The party came to an empty courtyard. It stood beneath a black sky, the sun having already set before dinner. Cool night air brushed Teryn’s skin as they crossed the stone floor and funneled through a door in a low stone wall at the other side. Morkai stopped just beyond it and beckoned the rest of them to come forth.

Cora halted as soon as she took a step beyond the wall. She released a gasp, her body going rigid. Teryn and Lex quickened their pace and came up beside her.

“The garden,” Cora whispered, but Teryn could see nothing resembling anything close to a garden. Instead, he found a charred field riddled with black stumps of gnarled trees. Nothing stood beyond the field save for the castle wall. He studied the towering perimeter, noting the many silhouettes of sentries atop it. It didn’t bode well for his escape plan.

He scanned the sky out of reflex, but he knew he wouldn’t find Berol. The last thing he’d done after preparing their horses was to scrawl a note that simply said, Ridine Castle. Not safe. Trying to flee . He’d left the rolled-up parchment on a bale of hay outside the stables, careful not to let any of the duke’s guards see. Before he’d returned indoors, he’d caught a glimpse of Berol diving from the sky, then flying away with the scroll clutched in her talons. She’d known better than to fly inside the stables or the castle before then, just like she’d understood to keep her distance while he’d traveled with the duke’s entourage to Ridine. The less Morkai knew about Teryn’s assets, the better. Now he just had to hope Berol brought it to his father at once. He hadn’t been close enough to convey where he wanted the letter delivered, but he trusted her to understand he was in trouble.

“This is not at all what I’d call a garden,” Lex whispered.

Cora faced Morkai. “Why did you bring us here to show us this ?”

Morkai chuckled. “This isn’t what I brought you to see, but I’m glad you’re impressed.”

“This was my mother’s garden.”

“Everything comes at a price, Aveline.”

“Do you have a point or do you simply like hearing yourself make vaguely ominous statements?”

Teryn nearly barked a laugh. If Cora was afraid of the duke, she was doing a damn good job of hiding it.

Morkai planted his cane in the earth and rubbed his thumb over the amber crystal. “You might have gleaned that King Dimetreus will soon be declaring war.”

“I gathered,” Cora said, “although I’ve yet to understand why. Selay is no enemy to Khero. Everything you’ve told my brother is a lie.”

“Everything the king believes is true to him,” Morkai said with a wry grin. “When he said we’ve been planning this for six years, that was true. And I’ve been planning even longer in ways you couldn’t comprehend. We have the means to wage a very fast, very bloody, and very successful war. Harbor no doubts that our enemies will fall.”

Teryn’s blood roared in his ears. He may not have had the greatest respect for Selay and its rulers, especially after King Verdian had allowed his daughter to publicly snub their engagement. But that didn’t mean he relished the thought of the kingdom falling to war. “Aside from the story you’ve fabricated over Princess Aveline’s captivity, what reason does the king have for marching on Selay?”

“I too would like to know,” Lex added, although his tone held far less fire. “I visited Verlot Palace recently, and the king and queen seemed rather…nice…” His words dissolved into nothing as Morkai pinned him with a glare.

“My reasons are not for you to concern yourself with,” the duke said.

Teryn noted that he’d said my reasons , not the king’s.

Morkai’s lips lifted in a taunting grin. “But it may serve you to know that Selay is not our only enemy.”

Teryn’s blood went cold. “Are you suggesting the threat holds true for Menah as well?”

“I’m suggesting you choose your alliances well, Your Highness. Whether the king’s army marches on one kingdom or two is in your hands.”

Teryn knew the duke was baiting him but he had to know the truth. “What does that mean?”

“It means you can either act as a voice of reason or serve me as a mute pawn. Your presence here is a gift.”

“Is that so?”

“Quite. I’m sure you are well acquainted with the costs of war. Not only in coin but in lives. Time. Resources. Like I said, Khero is fully prepared for battle but that doesn’t mean Dimetreus wouldn’t settle for a peaceful resolution instead.”

“What are you getting at?” Cora said. “Stop talking in circles and tell us what you brought us here to say.”

Morkai ignored her, keeping his eyes fixed on Teryn. “You, Prince Teryn, create the possibility for negotiation. Instead of marching for war, the king will demand surrender. Tomorrow morning I will send messengers to both Selay and Menah. I will call for a meeting at Centerpointe Rock in two weeks’ time where we will discuss the terms for both kingdoms’ surrender.”

“Two weeks’ time,” Teryn echoed. “You’re only giving them two weeks to prepare for a war meeting?”

“Two weeks will be more than enough time for all three parties to reach Centerpointe Rock. There will be no need for any of us to come with heavy forces in tow. For this is not a war meeting but a meeting of peace.”

Teryn scoffed. “ Peace ? Not once have you demonstrated anything resembling peace. Instead, I’ve watched you present lies as truths, wield threats like knives, and cast a princess as a common criminal. Not to mention treating me and Prince Lex like prisoners.”

Lex’s eyes widened. “Wait, we’re…prisoners?”

“Of course not,” Morkai said. “Until you expressly refuse the king, I’ll consider you allies. Anyone who’d rather not stand opposite Khero’s army in the future will choose to remain allies.”

Teryn’s neck prickled beneath the threat, but he kept his expression stony.

“You know what?” Morkai turned and marched closer to the charred field. “Enough chit-chat. I think what you need is visual proof.”

Teryn’s eyes sought Cora’s. She met his gaze and he saw all of his own fears and confusion reflected back at him.

Morkai crouched at the edge of the field and pressed his hand to the charred earth. At first, nothing happened. Then movement at the far end of the field. One of the charred stumps…was growing. A shape formed from the shadows, creating a silhouette of an enormous head on a hulking body. That was when Teryn realized it hadn’t been a stump at all. It was the Beast.

Lex edged closer to Teryn, as did Cora, her hands fumbling at her back, her waist, searching frantically for the weapons that weren’t there. She froze when Teryn’s hand alighted on her shoulder. This time, she didn’t glare or pull away.

The Beast paid them no heed as it plodded forward, showing no sign that it had ever been injured by Cora. Both of its beady eyes were intact and its raw-looking red skin hid any sign of puncture. It stopped next to Morkai and sat back on its haunches. The creature towered over the duke, but Morkai patted its hide as if it were only a dog. Then, keeping one hand on the Beast, he lifted his other palm to the sky.

Teryn didn’t dare blink as he watched a fog slowly creep over the field. Little by little, the misty patches began to grow brighter, reflecting the light of the moon. Soon shapes began to solidify and disperse, forming something akin to bodies. Teryn saw a hand here, a leg there, heads with dark holes where eyes should be.

Cora stepped back, flinging out a hand. Her gloved fingers came around his wrist and she made no move to let go. “Wraiths,” she whispered.

Teryn’s heart slammed against his ribs at the word. The longer Teryn stared at the humanlike shapes forming on the field, the more he realized there was no other word to describe them. There were hundreds of the semi-translucent figures all clustered together over the charred soil, and in each of their hands was an equally translucent weapon—swords, spears, axes, bows. They wore armor the same color as their ghostly bodies but the style was outdated. Ancient.

“What…who are they?” Cora asked.

“Spirits from a nearly forgotten war,” Morkai said. “They died trapped between two realms and have wandered the planes between the living and the dead ever since. Now they serve me. I sacrificed the garden for them, traded death for life. Or something like it at least.”

Lex’s voice rose a few octaves as he muttered, “What the bloody hell.”

Morkai stepped away from the Beast, and the creature plodded off to lie down a few paces away. The duke turned to face Teryn and his companions, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at seeing the three of them huddled together. “Come, Aveline,” he said, waving Cora forward.

She remained in place, her fingers still clasped around Teryn’s wrist.

Morkai’s gaze slid down to their hands, and his expression turned hard. Cora seemed to realize the source of his attention and stepped away from Teryn, releasing her grip and fisting her hands in the folds of her silk skirts. “I have no desire for a closer view.” Her eyes darted from Morkai to the wavering forms of the wraiths.

“Oh, I’m not inviting you over just to look.” He gestured to someone behind them, and one of his guards stepped forward carrying Cora’s bow and quiver. “You’re to participate in the demonstration.” To the guard, he added, “Bring them.”

Teryn tensed, assuming Morkai meant him and Lex. Instead, two more guards entered the garden from the courtyard. They hauled two bedraggled men whose hands were cuffed in iron, and shoved them before Morkai. The older of the two stumbled to his knees. His face was bruised, and an open cut seeped above his eyebrow. The younger man tried to help him up, but the duke held his cane between them.

“Monster,” the younger man bit out. “Usurper. Filth?—”

In a flash, Morkai snapped his cane against the side of the older man’s face, opening his wound further.

Teryn started forward, his fists curled so tight he felt his nails dig straight through his dinner gloves to his palms. He halted in place at a sharp look from the duke. Another guard stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword. Damn it . He hated being unarmed. He hated himself for getting into this mess.

“Enough,” the duke said to the younger man. “One more word and I’ll break your father’s legs.”

The younger man’s throat bobbed. His eyes burned with rage but he pursed his lips against further argument.

“Now,” Morkai said, “walk eight paces onto the field. Refuse and your father dies. Take one step after your eight paces are complete and he dies. Go.”

“Don’t do it, Bradley,” the older man begged. “Obey not a word the usurper says.”

Bradley only hesitated a moment, just long enough for Morkai to slightly lift his cane. On trembling legs, he strode eight paces forward.

Toward the waiting wraiths.

Only a dozen or so feet stood between Bradley and the apparitions.

The guard bearing Cora’s weapons handed her the bow and quiver. She took them with a wary expression that echoed the dread Teryn felt inside. Arming Cora felt too good to be true. She kept her eyes trained on the duke as she slung her bow over her shoulder, creating an odd contrast with her elegant gown. “What is this about?”

Morkai gestured at Bradley. “He will face my wraiths while you, Aveline, defend him. If he still lives after one minute, both he and his father go free.”

Teryn glanced from Cora to the wraiths, then the two prisoners.

Before anyone could argue, Morkai’s voice bellowed across the field. “Attack!”

The wraiths surged forward at a run. Their moves were neither silent nor loud but something in between. Something hollow and wrong and unsettling. Cora bit back a cry of alarm and nocked an arrow. She sent it flying into the heart of one of the first wraiths. The wraith disappeared in a puff of mist. Teryn watched as her arrow shot through the ones behind it as well, carving a line through the oncoming hoard. For a moment, Teryn thought the duke’s plan had backfired, but just as Cora shot another arrow, clearing yet another line through the translucent bodies, wisps of mist filled the previous gap, and the bodies reformed. They stumbled, paused, but soon the reanimated specters were running again. Cora shot another. Another. But there were too many. No sooner did she obliterate one did another take its place. They couldn’t be killed. They could hardly be slowed.

Too soon, they surrounded the handcuffed man, their ghostly weapons slicing through his flesh as if they were made of steel. Cora continued to shoot, tears streaming down her cheeks as her efforts proved more fruitless with every arrow.

Until there was nothing left to defend.

“Stop.” Morkai’s voice no longer bellowed but caressed the night, a whisper against the not-quite-soundless slaughter on the field. The wraiths stopped at once and retreated to their previous positions, leaving the body crumpled and alone.

The older man cried out, wailing for his son.

Cora angled herself toward Morkai, but a guard was already at her side, wrenching the bow from her hands. He made no move to take her quiver, however. The prisoner continued to weep for his son as Morkai strode over to the body. Stopping just before the corpse, the duke lifted his hands, palms level with his waist. Teryn could hardly breathe, hardly blink, as he watched Morkai’s strange posture. Then something began to move over Bradley’s body. It started as a strange undulating motion, like snakes sliding over the dead man’s skin.

It was blood.

Teryn’s throat went dry as he watched a ruby pool gather in the hollow of the man’s collarbone, then—against all impossibility—began to rise into the air. Crimson tendrils lifted from the body to the duke’s hand, forming an orb. The ball of blood remained suspended midair, following Morkai’s palm as he rotated it upward.

The duke turned away from the corpse and approached the weeping prisoner. “I’m sorry Princess Aveline failed you and your son.”

Cora made a strangled sound.

The duke kept his attention on the man, still sprawled on his knees, cuffed hands clasped together as if in prayer. He muttered something too quiet to be heard. “What did you say?” Morkai said gently.

The man lifted his head, his wounded temple still seeping. There was not grief but defiance in his eyes. “I said, I pray the seven devils drag you to hell.”

Morkai looked down his nose at him. “They can try.” Then, with the orb of blood still hovering over one palm, he raised the other toward the man. A thin tendril of blood lifted from the man’s open wound, then snaked through the air and wove between the duke’s fingers. The first orb of blood stretched out until it too resembled thread. The two sources of blood began to connect, swirling around one another, bending, twisting, weaving, until they merged as one.

The prisoner made a choking sound.

Morkai fluttered his fingertips, and the tapestry became solid. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the blood-weaving disappeared.

The man dropped at the same moment, sprawled limp on his side.

Lifeless.

Sightless.

Dead.

Teryn’s gaze shot to Morkai. “You’re a…” His words were trapped in his throat. It seemed an insult to call him a witch. Cora was a witch. Witches used magic. The duke, on the other hand…

This was something else. Darkness. Sorcery.

“I prefer the term blood mage,” he said, “but someday you will call me your king.”