me, expression contorted in a rictus of rage.
The red wizard glided toward me, his smooth face mild, black eyes glittering with venom. “What have You done, Your Highness?” he asked with soft menace.
“What you only dreamed of,” I replied in the same tone. “What I was born to do—and what you will never be able to do, you hack thief and humbug.”
I crouched, laying the hand with the orchid ring against the cool marble. “Observe.”
The tendrils of my consciousness spun down into the earth, the orchid reaching for the spirit of the land sleeping beneath the hulk of the citadel. It rumbled in reply, coming awake with vigor, answering my call in a very different voice than Calanthe’s.
“It seems You’ve learned some things since last we met.” The red wizard smiled thinly, expression calculating, the glint in his eyes acquisitive. “But Your Highness is a rank amateur, and You meddle at Your peril. This is scratching the surface of what You can do. Work with me and I can teach You. I have the knowledge You will need.”
The connection to Yekpehr established, I stood slowly, making sure the thread from the orchid ring to the land stayed strong. I gazed back into the mild and cruel eyes of my chief torturer, his ruthlessly cold savagery veiled with an academic’s manner. Beyond him, Ambrose remained near Anure, a restraining hand on Anure’s shoulder, gaze on me and not on the raging black wizard, who’d climbed the steps to shout at him, gesturing wildly. Anure looked stunned, staring at me as if he’d never seen me before.
“No, thank you,” I replied, pouring the living vitality of Calanthe into Yekpehr, prodding the monster. “I’ve tasted your brand of tutelage and I don’t care to again.” Facing him like this, I found I wasn’t afraid, that I could touch those memories and they didn’t weaken me. I was no longer his prisoner and plaything. I tickled Yekpehr and the ground rumbled beneath us, a stone falling from the ceiling to the floor with a boom! Small stones ricocheted from the impact, and dust filled the air.
Something flickered in the red wizard’s gaze, and he signaled to the black wizard. Nerves? “You’re a reckless fool. You have no idea how difficult it is to hold a land one has acquired.”
“Don’t I?” I asked softly, noting how the black wizard picked his way down the steps toward us. “I think I know far more than you ever will, you with your stolen blood and pretensions to power.” Yekpehr rumbled in agreement, several windows shattering.
The red wizard winced. “You can’t hold two lands at once. You need someone of the blood or You’ll doom us all.”
I didn’t show my dismay, but he was right on that. Already I could feel Yekpehr shaking off my leash. It knew I had no right to it—and it roared for one who did. I should’ve thought to ask if any of Yekpehr’s royal line remained among the captives. Surely there must be someone, since Anure had tamed it.
A raven flew into the room. Shedding purple sparks and black feathers, he zoomed to land on the black wizard’s shoulder, beads of blood welling up from where Merle’s suddenly wicked talons pierced the wizard’s flesh. The red wizard made no move to help his colleague; he watched the orchid ring with rapt fascination.
Agatha and Sondra ran into the throne room, following after Merle, and skidded to a halt at the sight of the enormous room empty but for unconscious guards, shards of glass and stone, and the few of us. Though I was happy to see Sondra, I shot her a glare. “I thought I told you to set sail with the captives.”
“What?” Sondra yelled, as if hard of hearing. She banged the heel of her hand against her ear. “Did You say something?”
I did my best not to laugh. The yearning of Yekpehr stretched that direction, reaching—not for the ship in the harbor with the captives—but for Agatha.
Ah. Several pieces settled into place.
“Bring Agatha to Me, Con.”
He did, without question, offering Agatha his arm as if at a formal event and escorting her to me. Crouching again to place my ring hand on the marble floor, I held out the other for Agatha. Anure screeched and was silenced. The red wizard watched with narrowed eyes, unmoving otherwise, pinned in Merle’s grip.
“Behold the power of the Abiding Ring,” I told him as Agatha slipped her cold, spindly fingers through mine. The world seemed