43. Keelan

Chapter 43

Keelan

J ess slept soundly in the bunk on the cot row’s end. An empty bed separated her from Atikus, then me, giving her some semblance of privacy—or at least personal space. Her light breathing was barely audible, but Atikus snored softly.

Dittler grumbled as only horses can.

The other horses didn’t seem to care as they huddled some distance from their Cretian cousin.

I stared at the ceiling.

I couldn’t sleep.

I couldn’t make my mind stop spinning.

Images of the ceremonial chamber in the Children’s temple swirled in my mind.

I saw Isabel in her blood-red robes and eerie skin mask; then Jess, her limp body carried reverently by one of the robed men in his twisted animal mask.

I heard the chanting, the drums beating.

I felt the thrumming in my chest. My heart beat with it.

Without thinking, I placed a palm over my heart, hoping the pressure might make it slow.

Then Justin’s cry rang in my ears. I covered them with shaking hands, desperate to make the boy’s wail cease. My eyes refused to shut, seeing the Prince staring down from the balcony.

My traitorous eyes blurred with moisture.

This was my failure.

I had lost that kind, innocent boy.

My heart ached with each beat, like a dull knife stabbing with each pulse.

“Keelan, I need your help. Help me.”

I bolted upright as my eyes scanned the cavern.

Jess and Atikus lay sleeping. The horses stood undisturbed in the darkness. Nothing stirred. Even the salty air of the cool cavern was still. The only sounds came from Atikus’s light snoring, Dittler’s occasional shuffle, and the snapping of the smokeless, magical flames above the torches.

I’m still hearing voices. Excellent. Might I lose my mind along with those I love?

I scratched my rusty stubble and stared at the pitcher of wine on one of the tables, remembering its warm tickle as it crawled down my throat. I had tried my share of drinks in my time with the Guard—most men do—but nothing compared to whatever was in that pitcher. I couldn’t decide whether it was wine or some other liquor, as it seemed to change with my mood, sometimes with each sip.

Perhaps a stiff drink was exactly what I needed to help me sleep.

What will it taste like to someone lost in terrible dreams? I wondered.

I padded to the table and poured a cup.

“Keelan, she wants to kill me. She wants to kill us all. You have to help me.”

“Atikus, wake up. Something’s happening.” Urgency in my voice brought the Mage fully awake.

Jess began to stir.

“What is it?” Atikus asked as his gaze swiveled about the cavern.

“I think that woman is back in my head, but this time, I feel her pushing me to act. It’s like she’s trying to take over my self-control. I’m trying to resist, but she keeps coming back with more force behind her words.” My eyes pleaded with the Mage. “She says Jess wants to kill us.”

I downed the wine in one gulp and refilled it, desperate to make the voice stop.

When it spoke next, a wave of Compulsion slammed into me.

“Keelan, you must help me. You must stop her. You are the only one who can—before she gains her full power. She is evil. Stop her, Keelan.”

My eyes glazed as my mind fell prey to her call.

I looked down to find my belt knife drawn and resting ready in my hand.

When had I drawn my blade?

I set the dagger on the table and put my head in both hands.

Atikus rose and took a tentative step toward the table. “Give me the dagger, Keelan.”

“You must help me. You must stop her before it’s too late.”

Power thrummed through me. It swelled in my chest and roared in my mind. It no longer asked or begged. It demanded.

The Compulsion was overwhelming, pulling at me, urging me, consuming my mind with images of driving my dagger into her— into Jess .

Atikus yelled something I couldn’t understand.

A terror-filled scream echoed throughout the cavern.

I snapped back to the present.

Jess lay beneath me. My legs straddled her body, pinned her to the cot. My dagger pressed against her throat.

A bead of blood welled under my sharp blade.

“ATIKUS!” Jess screamed. “Help me! Keelan, please . . . stop!”

Her last words were more whimper than cry.

The Mage bolted forward, eyes wide. He reached toward me with urgent yet soothing words. “Keelan, step away from Jess. Give me the knife, son. Hear me, Keelan. It’s Atikus.”

My arm wouldn’t move.

I tried.

I threw my will against the Compulsion and found my strength lacking. The dagger dug deeper, a ruby line replacing the bead.

I looked up. My heart raced. My eyes filled with panic.

“I can’t stop it, Atikus. I’m trying, but she won’t let me stop. You’ve got to get Jess away from me. Now!”

Atikus gripped my arm, pulling with all his spindly strength. I didn't budge, but my arm moved enough to lift the tip of the knife from Jess’s neck and allow her to slip out of the bed. She ran to the opposite end of the room and pressed herself against the shelving.

Her arms crossed her body in a frightened embrace.

“Don’t stop, Keelan! You must kill her. This may be your only chance to save everyone. NOW!”

“You won’t hurt anyone else!” I roared.

Atikus’s hand still rested on my arm. I tossed the Mage aside as if he were made of paper. He slammed against the nearby wall and crumpled to the floor.

I stormed across the room, dagger raised, a twisted anger thrumming through me. My voice came out a discordant blend of stern man and angry woman, as if the two spoke at the same time. “The throne is mine! It is time for you to die.”

Jess screamed again.

Her eyes darted around the cavern as she cowered against the shelves.

Dittler sensed her distress and snorted angrily, while the other horses whinnied nervously and strained against their leads. The stallion tore his tether free from the iron ring bolted into the wall and charged toward me from across the cavern.

Atikus woke and cried out, willing me to hear him and return to myself.

Nothing mattered.

Nothing but stopping Jess from her wicked rampage.

She was evil.

She had to die.

The world blurred and slowed.

I reached Jess, and my bloodthirsty dagger arced toward her chest.

Dittler charged.

Jess pleaded and wept.

Then she screamed.

As the dagger descended, our eyes met.

A flash of recognition seared through my vision.

Pain filled me as I wrestled with the demon driving me to treason.

Jess watched as my arm shook against the falling knife.

It slowed but did not stop.

As the blade reached her throat, my other hand gripped her shoulder and hurled her aside, as though part of my body warred with the rest.

Jess lost all balance and stumbled toward the mystical mirror bolted to the cavern’s wall. Her startled eyes shot upward as her face neared the golden metal surface. She threw her arms out to brace herself, but momentum drove her forward into the looking glass.

The mirror’s surface flared brightly at her touch, and Jess vanished just as my knife plunged through the space she’d just inhabited. The blade dug deeply into a shelf, its point now visible on the other side of the thick wood.

I staggered back. My hands pressed against my temples. My mind was instantly my own again, and I fell to my knees.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from the mirror and my bloody dagger.