and leaned in close.
"Where. Is. She?" I demanded once more.
The fading light of her magic in my mind was growing fainter and fainter. It was more difficult than before to summon it back. Soon it would be gone. It would be far easier to get the information I needed from Tyr and then slay him here and now.
A hoarse, rough laugh left Tyr's lips. "You think killing me will save her?" he asked. "No, join me, Brother."
My mouth parted in shock. Join him? I reared back and simply stared at him—at the face of the man I'd grown up alongside, but also at the face of a brother who'd time and time again left me in battle to fend for myself. Simply out of boredom or amusement.
"Blood brothers should remain together, Orion," Tyr continued. "Though you may not like it, though you may hide from the truth, the fact remains, you and I"—he grins and leans into my grip—"we are Midnight Fae and the Midnight Court is the most powerful of all."
I could feel a fire of rage welling up inside of me. "I may be a Midnight Fae." I said the words slowly, carefully as I watched every detail of his expression. "But I will never be one with you." With that, I reached up with my other hand and ripped the iron blade out of his shoulder.
Tyr grunted as it left his body. "More is the pity," he whispered.
My hand flew down, the blade in my grasp aiming directly for his heart. Murder, even among Fae, was blasphemous, but in this, I knew I was right. Tyr was a monster. He had betrayed not only me but the entirety of Faekind. He could not be allowed to live.
Yet, even as my dagger flashed, pain shot through me, starting in my stomach and spreading. My arm grew weak and dots flickered in front of my vision. Wait … My eyes shot downward. No. How had I not…
Another blade, almost exactly like my own, stuck out of my abdomen. My head lifted and my eyes met Tyr's. My hand fell away from his throat as I stumbled back, reaching down to rip the thing free.
"You're not the only one who learned a few things in war, Orion." Tyr's words reached me just as I yanked the new blade from my skin. Blood soaked across my shirt. "You should've poisoned your first blade." The tone of his voice was smooth, unbothered, as if he was merely talking to me about the weather rather than the fact that he'd poisoned the blade that he used to kill me—because I was dying. I knew it. I could feel it in my veins.
My vision wavered again and the next step I took, a last ditch effort to strike at him, fell short. Both daggers fell from my grasp and my head smacked into the wall as my body tumbled to the ground and then further, rolling down the stairs until I hit the bottom. Breath wheezed out of my chest, aching and sharp, and bringing me absolute agony.
In my ears, the ringing clomps of Tyr's steps grew ever closer until a shadow passed over my face. I opened my eyes, not realizing that I'd closed them, and stared up as he bent low over me, brushing my hair back away from my face as he smiled.
"I'll let you in on a little secret, Brother," he spoke slowly—or perhaps it was merely my mind slowing everything down. It felt like each second lasted an eternity. The pumping of my poison drenched blood through my veins made everything seem so painfully never ending. Tyr reached into his shirt and produced something.
My eyes widened as a globe illuminated in his palm. Barely the size of a small animal's head, I knew what it was right away. Though it was an impossible feat—though it shouldn't have existed—there, in his palm, was a Lanuaet. A miniature version. The Midnight Court's version.
"This is going to bring me everything I've ever wanted," he explained.
Lifting up as much as my body would allow, I tried to reach for it. Something inside of me told me to rip it away and destroy it before it was too late. Tyr pulled it back with a laugh. "Ah, ah, ah. Can't have you messing this up for me," he chuckled before putting it back into his shirt.
"What … do … you … want?" I asked, panting through the anguish—both the mental fear and the physical