hand pressed down on the knife, the tip sinking between his ribs. “I have a closetful of kings.”
“Stop,” demanded Kell as blood spread out from the knife’s tip. He tried commanding the bones in Rhy’s arm to still, but Astrid’s own powerful will inside the prince’s body made Kell’s grip tenuous.
“How long can you stay my hand?” challenged Astrid. “What happens when your focus starts to slip?” Rhy’s amber eyes went to Lila. “He doesn’t want me to hurt his brother. You best give me the stone before I do.”
Lila hesitated, and Rhy’s free hand curled around the possession charm and drew it over his head, holding it loosely in his palm. “The stone, Lila.”
“Don’t do this,” said Kell, and he didn’t know if he meant the words for Astrid or Lila or both.
“The stone.”
“Astrid, please,” whispered Kell, his voice wavering.
At that, Rhy’s mouth twisted into a triumphant smile. “You are mine, Kell, and I will break you. Starting with your heart.”
“Astrid.”
But it was too late. Rhy’s body twisted toward Lila, and a single word left his mouth—catch—before he cast the pendant into the air and drove the knife into his chest.
V
It happened so fast, the pendant moving at the same time as the blade. Kell saw Lila lunge out of the charm’s reach, and he twisted back in time to see Rhy burying the knife between his ribs.
“No!” screamed Kell, surging forward.
The necklace skidded along the floor and fetched up against a guard’s boot, and Rhy crumpled forward, the blade driven in to the hilt as Kell scrambled to his side and pulled the knife free.
Rhy—and it was Rhy now—let out a choked sound, and Kell pressed his blood-streaked fingers to his brother’s chest. Rhy’s shirtfront was already wet, and he shuddered under Kell’s touch. Kell had just began to speak, to command the magic to heal the prince, when a guard slammed into him from the side and they both went down on the inlaid floor.
Several feet away Lila was grappling with the other guard while Kell’s attacker clutched the talisman in one hand and tried to wrap the other around Kell’s throat. Kell kicked and fought and dragged himself free, and when the guard (and Astrid within) charged forward, he threw up his hand. The metal armor—and the body inside—went flying backward, not into the wall, but into the banister at the balcony, which crumbled under the force and sent the guard’s body over and down. It landed with a crash on the courtyard stones below, the sound followed instantly by screams, and Kell ran to the patio to see a dozen of the ball’s dancers circling the body. One of them, a woman in a lovely green gown, reached out curiously for the pendant, now discarded on the courtyard stones.
“Stop!” called Kell, but it was too late. The moment the woman’s fingers curled around it, he could see her change, the possession rippling through her in a single drawn-out shiver before her head flicked up at him, mouth drawing into a cold grim smile. She turned on her heel and plunged into the palace.
“Kell!” called Lila, and he spun, taking in the room for the first time as it was, in disarray. The remaining guard lay motionless on the floor, a dagger driven through the visor of his helmet, and Lila crouched over Rhy, her mask lifted and her tangled hands pressing against the prince’s chest. She was covered in blood, but it wasn’t hers. Rhy’s shirt was soaked through.
“Rhy,” said Kell, the word a sob, a shuddering breath as he knelt over his brother. He drew his dagger and slashed his hand, cutting deep. “Hold on, Rhy.” He pressed his wounded palm to the prince’s chest—it was rising and falling in staccato breaths—and said, “As Hasari.”
Heal.
Rhy coughed up blood.
The courtyard below had exploded into activity, voices pouring up through the broken balcony. Footsteps were sounding through the halls, fists banging on the chamber doors, which Kell now saw were scrawled with spellwork. Locking charms.
“We have to go,” said Lila.
“As Hasari,” said Kell again, putting pressure on the wound. There was so much blood. Too much.
“I’m sorry,” murmured Rhy.
“Shut up, Rhy,” said Kell.
“Kell,” ordered Lila.
“I’m not leaving him,” he said simply.
“So take him with us.” Kell hesitated. “You said the magic needs time to work. We can’t wait. Bring him with us if you will, but we need to go.”
Kell swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said, just before forcing himself—and Rhy—to his feet. The prince gasped in