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Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

FINN

Shadows swirled around Finn’s borrowed body, and his stomach almost emptied itself as everything came to a juddering halt, as if he and Hestia had slammed into a wall of night. She gave a groan and slumped against him, all strength leaving her suddenly limp body. She slipped out of his arms as if lifeless. He tried to grab her, to hold onto her, but it was like trying to seize water.

The world twisted sickeningly, struggling to right itself, and he looked up. They were in the throne room in Sidonia, his father gazing down at him, and a man standing beside him, the man in Finn’s own body…

And then he was standing in two places, both beneath and beside the throne.

Wren cried out, her eyes wide in horror, and something hot and wet splashed over his face. He was holding a knife and…

‘He’s killed the king!’ Leander cried out. Leander, back in his own body, still wounded and exhausted, but seizing the moment and directing the panic of the assembled court against his enemy. And Finn had always been his enemy. Now his brother had made him the enemy of all of Ilanthus in a single moment. ‘He’s murdered our father. Seize him. Now!’

The pounding in Finn’s head reached a crescendo and he staggered back. His father sprawled across the steps to the throne, no longer moving, blood drenching his chest. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t…

He hadn’t…

The knife fell from his numb hand. Wren’s lips moved, as if trying to form his name. She was so close, just a few steps away. Beautiful, fragile, clothed as the dark goddess the Ilanthians saw in her. Her eyes were wide and dark, filled with tears. She wore a gown like the night itself and her hair curled around her in ever moving waves, alive with magic she couldn’t use because of the bracelet they had trapped her with.

‘No,’ he whispered, unsure who he was trying to reason with. Who here was going to listen? Only Hestia knew what had truly happened and all Finn could hear was Laurence pleading for someone to save her. ‘Please, listen.’

The guards fell on him like that same wall of night. The struggle was brief and brutal. His body didn’t seem to work for him, like it belonged to a stranger into whom he had been dropped without warning.

Leander had reached the dais and grabbed Wren, pulling her back. Had she been trying to help him? Or had she been as horrified as everyone else? But the moment he laid hands on her, his fingers digging into the pale flesh of her arm as if to reach the bone, she tore herself away from him.

‘Finn,’ she gasped again, and her voice shook but she didn’t seem to know who she was looking at or which of them was which.

Finn was hauled to his knees in front of his brother.

‘Lock him up. We will deal with this treacherous murderer later. I will have such tortures for you, brother.’ Leander smiled. He actually smiled, though he hid it a moment later as he turned to the court. ‘Bring healers, attend the king.’

Attend the king? Alessander was dead. Even a fool could see that.

And Finn was, he realised, very much the fool in this situation. He thought he’d been escaping, setting things to rights. Instead he had walked straight into another trap. Whether it had been planned this way from the start or whether Leander had seized the moment was impossible to say.

‘Oriole, see to Lady Hestia,’ Leander snapped. ‘Take her to the caves and secure her. She has many questions to answer. General Gaius?—’

‘No!’ Laurence cried out. He was kneeling by his mother, trying to help her. He was just a boy. Leander looked like he’d gladly kick him clear across the chamber if he could reach him now.

‘Take young Rayden too. He can discover what it really means to be a son of Sidon. The princess and I’ – he jerked Wren against him – ‘have a lot to discuss.’

‘Hold,’ Gaius barked at his men. ‘Your highness, you are not in command here. Lady Oriole, please see to Lady Hestia.’

‘The king first,’ one of the others argued.

‘The king is dead,’ Oriole said in a trembling voice.

A shocked ripple ran around the room and someone cried out, several people. Even Gaius seemed stunned and at a loss as to what to say. Alessander had been the soul of the kingdom. A cruel and vicious king, but still their king, their centre and their guide in the dark. Without him…

Finn locked eyes with his half-brother and knew this was the moment Leander had dreamed of. He had everything now. Everything.

All he needed to do was get rid of his father’s newly chosen heir. And he had just managed that by barely lifting a finger.

Just sinking a blade into the king’s body. And using Finn’s hand to do it, in front of the entire court.

‘Well actually,’ Leander replied coolly as the noise subsided and all eyes turned to him, ‘the chosen heir killed our beloved king and I claim the throne in his stead, so I very much am in command here, general. Finnian Ward is to be confined at our pleasure. His execution can mark my coronation and my marriage to the princess.’ He almost shook Wren as if to prove a point but with that movement she tore herself free of him.

‘I will never marry you.’ Her voice rang out, clear and determined in the audience chamber, silencing everyone.

She staggered backwards, away from Leander, and it was Oriole who caught her before she could fall, the older Sister still trembling with outrage. She was trying to soothe Wren, to murmur words of help and comfort, but it was hopeless.

‘You don’t get a say in the matter, my dearest little bird,’ Leander taunted her. ‘I am king now. Ilanthus is mine. So are you. No more demurring. I tried to be nice. You need to learn your place.’

He lunged at her again but winced as his newly reclaimed body betrayed him. It was still injured, still recovering. Finn remembered the pain well enough and Leander hadn’t accounted for it. He stumbled and two of the courtiers came to his aid. Leander gasped, snarling in rage, but he didn’t let go of them, using them to support himself.

As Finn tried to right himself, to force his legs beneath him again and struggle free, the guards were taken unawares, too distracted by the injured new king and his reluctant bride. He only had a moment, seconds, no more than a heartbeat. In a practised move he tore a sword free of a guard’s belt and turned on them, even as they were still trying to work out who was in control and why, which commands to obey and what side to take.

‘Wren,’ Finn shouted. ‘Wren, we have to get out of here.’ But she didn’t move, only stared at him as if she no longer knew who to trust. And how could she? He turned in a wide circle, holding the guards off, and held his free hand out to her. It shook far too much and there was blood covering it.

Wren just stared at him like she loathed him, or pitied him, and it made something tear inside him.

‘Oriole,’ she murmured, and he could hear the heartbreak in her voice. ‘I claim sanctuary with the Sisters, as offered. Please.’

Oriole glared at Leander and something unspoken passed between them. There was no love lost there, clearly. Everything in Ilanthus was about power and, right now, Wren was the crux of all power in Sidonia. Didn’t she see that? Couldn’t she see that they were all using her?

‘And it is granted,’ Oriole replied with an obstinate kind of formality designed to infuriate another without giving them an excuse to attack. Not that Leander needed any excuses. ‘Lady of Divine Darkness, the honour is ours.’

The other Sisters stepped out from among the courtiers, all dressed in black, their hands already moving in intricate patterns as they drew dark magic around them, weaving them together to shield Oriole, Hestia and Wren, surrounding them like a pack of shadow kin. Wren slumped in their midst, still staring at Finn as if she no longer knew what to believe.

No , he wanted to tell her. It’s really me. I promise it’s me.

But the only thing he managed to say was her name, before the guards swarmed over him once more and, this time, they beat him to unconsciousness.

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