serve as shield between her throat and Faolan’s blade.
Morien didn’t need to have full control of her heart in order to kill her. All he had to do was bring her to her knees, unable to move, and have one of his other pets finish her off.
A blaze of gold streaked between her and the weapon. Someone grunted. Inis looked up into shadow to see the fall of Shining Talon’s dark hair over one shoulder, the single shock of white.
He’d taken the blow for her on his forearm. The blade had sliced so deeply into his flesh that Inis saw a flash of black bone beneath golden skin.
Faolan stumbled backward from the impact. Shining Talon didn’t seem to register his own pain. Or he felt it and didn’t care. He twisted his arm around, catching the long sword in the crook of his elbow. Wrenched it back, out of Faolan’s grip. Raised it high, blood-drenched, and turned it on Morien.
The agony in Inis’s chest dulled with Morien’s surprise.
The reprieve didn’t last long.
Morien flickered before them, one moment with the tip of the long sword at his throat, the next reappearing deeper in the chamber. Light on the unbroken mirrors blinded Inis, forced her to blink. In that instant, Morien was again elsewhere.
He held a shard from another mirror in one hand, his other arm snaked tight around one of the fae children. He pressed the shard to the fae’s cheek, slicing through skin as if it were paper.
Shining Talon cried out, would have lunged if something, someone, hadn’t jumped on him to hold him back. Rags’s skinny arms, his tangle of dark hair, his skin clammy and his knuckles white.
“What now, princeling?” Again, Inis didn’t have to see the sorcerer’s mouth to know he was grinning, an ugly twist of the scarves across his jaw.
Shining Talon strained against Rags’s arms, not because Rags was strong enough to prevent him from doing anything he wished, but because for whatever stubborn reason, he respected Rags’s will.
“I’ve loosed six of them from their bonds.” Somhairle spoke in a whisper at Inis’s back, breathing heavily. Inis turned slowly, saw the streak of blood cutting across the prince’s jaw, the bruise blooming on his brow, the split in his lip. He shook his head, don’t worry about me, then continued, “Tried to wake another, but she won’t—”
Faolan lunged a second time, weaponless, hopeless. Inis saw only despair in his eyes. He was frightened, didn’t think he’d manage to do anything except sacrifice himself, but he moved because he had no choice. Morien was pulling the strings.
He met Shining Talon’s arm with a crack. Shining Talon swept him away as though he were an irritating fly. He slammed into the wall, rattled it with the force of Shining Talon’s blow. Slid down the stone. Crumpled.
Didn’t get up.
Morien still had a vulnerable hostage, the upper hand. “We’re at an impasse. One step closer to me, and I spill this child’s blood on the stones.”
“You wouldn’t.” Rags, wheezing as he spat out the words. “You need them, don’t you? They keep you powerful. Help you do the nasty, fuck-everyone-else bullshit you love so much.”
“I only need their blood,” Morien replied simply. “I don’t need all of them alive.”
Rags faltered, half laughed. “You’re a fucking nightmare, you know that?”
Morien’s eyes flashed, reflecting Rags not as he was at the moment but as the sorcerer wanted him. Dead. Torn to ribbons, bones crunched by wolves, flesh pecked and plundered and carried off by crows.
To his credit, Rags didn’t flinch. “You think that scares me, asshole? So many people want me dead, you’d better take your place in the back of the line.”
Three and Somhairle have come up with a plan. The suddenness of Two’s voice made Inis twitch. Morien was so busy with Rags that he didn’t notice. In fact, I’m jealous. It gives Three all the glory. If she pulls it off, she’ll never let me live it down.
Inis kept her gaze level on Morien. He’d cut the fae’s cheek deeper, glass disappearing into flesh. Inis could barely get enough breath into her lungs, past the living wound he’d made of her. Better get it done, then. And quick.
Somhairle’s hand fell on her shoulder, pulled her back against his chest. Three swept forward, wings battering the air. They grew as she flew, slicing through mirrors, sending shards sparking and glittering over their heads, taking Morien by surprise, knocking the injured fae from his arms.
Shining Talon and Rags caught the