myself, but the momentary distraction cost me. Teaghan closed in fast, and I had to throw myself back to avoid her blade. I rolled as I hit the ground.
I had no offensive magics. No real defensive ones either. So I did the only thing I could. I opened my shields and released my magic. It had only been a dozen hours since the Mender’s lessons, and my magic followed the new routes he’d drilled into me when he’d insisted I merge the planes over and over again. The locket burst open as I rolled out the planes locked inside. I hoped to stun Teaghan with the touch of death, maybe buy me a moment.
Faerie shivered as the land of the dead unfurled in a circle around me. Faerie didn’t like the planes I’d forced into it, but it didn’t fight me. I gasped. I could feel the magic in the air. Feel the glamour. Feel the layers of reality like I never had before.
“Nice light show,” Teaghan said as she stepped into the radius of my merged planes. I could feel the magic in her weapons. Feel her magic. Feel . . . her.
“You’ve died before,” I said, my voice sounding hollow, distant in the sudden wind whipping around me. I could feel the death clinging to her. She’d been revived, and while she wasn’t exactly a corpse, the land of the dead was drawn to her, as if it knew it had been denied its prize. My grave magic lifted unbidden.
She cocked her head to the side, sending her black braids trembling around her like a pair of snakes. “That was a long time ago. I learned from my mistake. You won’t have that luxury.”
She lifted her arm, sword preparing to strike.
I didn’t try to block this time. Didn’t dodge or run. I just lifted my arm, hand extended, and I sent my grave magic spiraling into her. A small push, and the death-weakened tethers binding her soul to her body snapped. Her soul popped free.
Her sword clattered to the ground. Her body followed a moment later. Her soul stood above it, looking confused.
I grabbed her ghostly wrist. I wasn’t sure the spell Falin had given me still held—I could already feel it failing—or if it would affect a ghost, but I was willing to try.
“Who conspired with you on the murders?”
The ghost had looked confused when her body hit the ground, but since I could touch her, so could the spell. She couldn’t help but answer. Her translucent eyes snapped into focus, anger filling them as the spell dragged her words from her.
“Lunabella and I killed the goblin. He was a prick who never helped when I desired to learn shadow weaving. Jurin helped when we killed the winter noble.”
More gasps around the room at her confession. The queen pushed herself to standing. “The duel is complete,” she yelled.
As if that could distract me from this line of questioning. The spell compelled Teaghan to answer, but even dead, her forced answers were careful. I’d have to word my question a different way.
“Who ordered you to commit these murders?”
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. No words emerged. Damn it. She’s oath-bound. She couldn’t name her master, likely why she was still alive. Well, had been alive, while Jurin and Lunabella had been killed.
Teaghan’s gaze cut toward the throne and one—or both—of the figures at it. Then she lunged at me, determined to tear me apart with her own ghostly hands.
I pulled my magic back, rolling in realities with it. Like a tide pulling a sand castle from the shore, Teaghan’s ghost followed the retreating reality. She shrank down, compressing, and then vanished into my locket. The door of the locket swung closed, the clasp sealing.
Silence fell over the throne room. I leaned down and sheathed my dagger in my boot. A slow clap started, and I looked at where Dugan stood, clapping. I searched his features for anger that I’d killed his former lover, sadness over her death. Neither appeared to be present. Falin stood beside him, relief clear on his face as he smiled at me. I returned the smile. Then I turned back to the throne.
I could have gone around Teaghan’s body, but I chose to step over it for the statement it made. I kept my face neutral as I did so, my gaze locked on the queen and Ryese. The gold cloak trembled in such a way that I assumed Ryese was near to exploding