had killed Sébastien ripped through her shoulder. She let out a small gasp and looked down. The world stopped, singled in on the red stain spreading across her chest, and her knees slammed into the dirt. The power she had been gathering faded, seeping from her to the earth. Louis turned too slowly.
Another bolt caught him in the chest, knocked him from his feet, and landed him in the dirt next to Madeline.
I crawled to my feet to help them, and a hand curled around my ankle.
“That was my favorite horse.” Each word Waleran said ground against the other, struggling to escape, and he flipped me over onto my back. “What an utter waste.”
The spear in his other hand channeled magic in a circle around us, keeping the soldiers at bay. Too tired to gather magic without making the movement, I lifted my left hand. He pinned it to the ground with a sliver of metal.
Everything hurt, and I tried to push past it, to heal, but I couldn’t while the metal still stuck there. A thin film of flesh, more like a Stareater’s wing than skin, sealed the wound. My fingers twitched and ached. I could feel the magic in my hand. There was too much. The ethereal pieces of me I took for granted were shifting, changing. Power corrupted.
Waleran yanked off his helm and stared at the odd white flesh of my wound. “You weren’t meant to handle such power, and already your body is wearing down. Did you really think half-trained hacks with no grace in their veins could beat us?”
So many dead against so few.
“We had to try.”
Waleran laughed and drew his sword. “Who’s going to save you now, hack?”
Twenty-Eight
Annette
“We should leave soon.” Brigitte paced from door to window, keeping watch from the little room where we’d found Coline. It was mostly bare. The leftovers from the soldiers who had guarded Coline were useless, and we’d already divided up the two weapons that had been there. “We need to give them less time to scry or divine us. This will work better if all their attention is on the riot outside and not us.”
“They killed their royal diviner,” I said. “What are they going to do? Press their ears to the floor and pray?”
We’d watched the guards trickle from the building group by group. Every now and then, a growl would come crashing over the grounds like the warning cry of a hungry creature. His Majesty and his court could kill Laurel and make all the deals they wanted, but that didn’t matter to most people. Those deals wouldn’t come to fruition for months or years if we went to war with Kalthorne. Only His Majesty would trust that a whole country would obey the rules of three people.
We had for decades, but now most of the chevaliers and artists were at the border and the soldiers in Serre were common. For once, His Majesty didn’t hold all of the power.
“We’re supposed to attack Kalthorne today,” said Coline. “All eyes will be on Segance. It’ll be him, Chevalier du Ruse, the royal guards, and whoever he had in court today to prepare for Kalthorne and deal with Laurel.”
Chevalier du Ruse—the noble who had executed Estrel and Laurence.
I took a deep breath, exhaustion giving way to fury. “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure?” Isabelle’s whisper was so soft, I almost missed it. Her fingers brushed my shoulder.
I nodded.
“Here.” She carded her fingers through my hair, a fistful of brittle strands falling out completely, and braided it back from my face. “You’re worn out.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Not quite yet,” Yvonne said.
“We’re falling apart,” I said with a laugh. “How’s that for a portent?”
I grabbed the short sword from Coline’s hand. There was too much power in the afternoon air, the desire to use it all overwhelming. I angled the blade in the sunlight until I could see a clear reflection of my face, the sunken eyes and cracked lips unfamiliar, and summoned up all my memories of Emilie. I had scryed her before, but now I summoned up the sound her voice and crook of her smile. She’d been so certain all those months ago in Bosquet. I needed her confidence now.
A chevalier, golden armor shining on top of a golden horse, broke through a line of Deme soldiers. Emilie threw up an arm. Power oozed like curdled blood in her veins.
“We’re not attacking Kalthorne,” I whispered. “The rest of the army’s fighting the chevaliers.”
And dying.
Coline muttered to herself, hands pressed