worn out.”
I glanced at Yvonne who shrugged and whispered, “Your choice.”
“Can one of us do it, then?” Coline ran her hand along her sword and cleaned the blade. “I need to know what happened with Kalthorne. If we attacked, if we’re at war, there might be no going back.”
Isabelle sniffed. “I’m no good at scrying.”
“You two deserve a moment of rest anyway.” Coline sat down, hard, and focused on the reflective surface of the sword. Nothing happened. She gathered no magic and did no channeling, but her eyes flitted about as if she were dreaming, and she smiled. “The army refused, and the Segance group isn’t doing anything?” She paused, head tilting. “There was a fight, but it wasn’t with Kalthorne.”
Emilie des Marais, what have you done?
“Well.” Coline, suddenly jittery, leapt to her feet. “We need to keep moving. This is good, but the other artists and my father’s friends will try to take my place soon enough. I need to make sure the royal guards aren’t going to do anything untoward and get Serre under control.”
No. Coline had scryed?
But I hadn’t seen it. I should’ve seen her channeling. I should’ve felt the tug of power flowing through her. I had always felt magic.
I rubbed my eyes and stared harder at her sword. No smears of power shone in it.
“Annette?” Yvonne touched my hand. “What’s wrong?”
Coline and Brigitte helped Isabelle up, and while the three of them spoke, I turned to Yvonne.
“I can’t see magic,” I mouthed. The others couldn’t know.
Had my use run its course?
“You’re worn out. We’ll try later.” Her brows drew together in a familiar, confused wrinkle. “You need to rest.”
Some hacks, after channeling for too long, lost the ability to use magic all together.
I opened my mouth, and she shook her head.
“It will be all right,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “Think you can stand?”
She helped me up, and Isabelle stood on my other side. I hooked one arm through hers.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
There were no words I could think to say, so I pulled her close and didn’t let go.
Coline leaned in and kissed my forehead, then Isabelle’s. “If either of you ever nearly die again, I will be unimaginably cross with you.” She glanced at Yvonne. “You too.”
“Now.” Coline shifted her sword to one hand and picked up her father’s head with the other. The skin beneath the blood splatter on her face was pale, old-milk white. She did not look at his face. “You two.”
She rounded on the guards, and the one who’d been staring at Isabelle and me earlier flinched.
“You were members of the royal guards and protected my father. He was a very bad person and king to the majority of Demeine. That wasn’t within your control. What you do now is,” she said. “Will you protect me?”
The other guard licked his lips. “Traditionally, the old guard is killed with the king.”
“Traditionally, the king doesn’t replace his worn-out body with parts from his people,” said Coline. “Anyone who broke the law, knew of that transgression, or abused their power will be tried, but I have no desire to kill for the sake of killing. However, if you refuse, that will leave us in a complicated position.”
“I would be honored, Madame Royale Nicole,” the staring one said.
Coline raised an eyebrow, blood dripping down her face.
The other one glanced at his companion and shook his head. “We would be honored, Your Majesty.”
Coline swept to the doors and shouted, “Who knocks?”
The pounding stopped.
“We answer to His Majesty,” a voice called out.
“Here is your king.” Coline must have undone what she did, for she pushed the doors open and tossed her father’s head into the hallway crowded by what must have been the rest of the royal guards. The two who had survived our fight flanked Coline and didn’t so much as blink while glaring down their fellows. The dozen of them, red coats stitched with blue and orange, parted as his head rolled to a stop between them. One at the front stepped forward, but an older guard held him back. Coline’s full named passed his lips.
“He instigated the war with Kalthorne, refused peace when it was offered, and was willing to sacrifice our soldiers to keep the war ongoing, all to distract the Deme people from the problems brought to light by Laurel. My father is dead, but his conspirators are not, and they may try to massacre Serre or kill me,” she said. I hadn’t noticed, but she