30. Cove

Chapter 30

Cove

At my pronouncement of Florian being Lord Dawnchaser, Huxley practically shrieked, stepping forward and yanking his sword out of its sheath.

I pulled Iri close, and despite the distance between us, she leaped to my call. As I’d expected, though, it was the will of stone against stone. My determination to stop Huxley versus his to make me stumble over my own feet and fall to a heap on the paving stones.

Keeping my movements economical, I left him as little to affect as possible, merely turning away from Florian to face him and laying my hand on my sword hilt. Still, I felt the force of Soz press against me, slicker and stronger than Adger’s attempt to push me down the stairs, though thankfully without the aid of gravity in this case.

He’s so fucking slippery , Iri whispered to me. Hard to pin down .

I breathed, focused on the effort to stay upright, letting Iri do the majority of the work to slow Huxley, and used what little brain power I had left to answer her. It’s Soz, of course. You know Soz, don’t you?

Sure. We’re friends. Have been since before we knew humans existed . Even she sounded a little breathless at the effort we were expending. But they’re not talking to me. I’m...I’m trying, I swear. But they haven’t talked to me in ages. Maybe they’re mad at me .

That was an odd thought. Why would they be angry with you?

When she answered, her voice was small. Sad. Maybe a little ashamed. Same reason you would, only worse. They’ve been stuck with this asshole for years, and I haven’t helped. Didn’t save them. What kind of friend does that make me?

I clenched my jaw, breathing in even as my body fought not to breathe at all. It tried to fall down, to go limp, to stop anything and everything, as the power of Soz pressed against me, surrounding my whole body and pushing in, looking for a weakness. I could feel Iri pressing on Huxley in return, his motions turning to molasses, slow and thick as sludge.

My problems aren’t your responsibility, Iri. What Afton did to me had nothing to do with you. Delta’s behavior isn’t your fault either. You can’t take responsibility for the evils committed by others. Just like Florian isn’t at fault for his father’s behavior.

Behind Huxley, Kit slid down off the gazebo railing and onto the ground below. He took one step forward, then another, and I wondered if I should try to include him in Iri’s slowing power.

But I couldn’t. I was barely slowing Huxley enough to keep him from killing me. We were practically at an impasse, unable to properly affect each other. Sweat dripped down my back, my shirt starting to cling to me as my whole body stayed tense, pulled as taut as a bowstring.

So even if Kit had decided to help him, to kill me...

Frost stepped between us. “Brother,” he greeted Kit.

The man had absolutely no artifice in him. It was one of the things I loved most about him. He didn’t even try to lie anymore—he’d done it once as a teenager and done such an awful job that he’d immediately confessed the whole truth to Delta and begged her to punish him and be done with it. He hadn’t even realized that for him, the situation had been more punishment than he’d ever earned.

My breath froze in my lungs as Soz’s magic crested against me, and I had to force them to work. I couldn’t think straight, the way every muscle in my body was trying to rebel against me. There was nothing I could do to help my nephew or son.

Kit smiled at Frost, and it was...it was still Winter. Or rather, it wasn’t a ruthless assassin working for Huxley Dawnchaser, or a stranger in Winter’s skin. It was like any day they’d been together in the tower, smiling at each other around the breakfast table.

They were still brothers, as they’d always been.

“Frosty,” Kit greeted back. “You got taller. Not even sure how you did that.”

Frost shrugged, laying his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Can’t say I know that much about physiology. I only inhabit the body, I don’t control it.”

Kit cocked his head, that painfully familiar sly smile blooming on his face. “I dunno about that. You seem like you’re pretty well in control of it just now.”

“Fair enough. I do choose where I stand. As do we all.”

Neither of them moved. Kit didn’t reach for his sword.

Huxley let out a little grunt of exertion, and his will, Soz’s will, pressed on me again.

Fall down.

Fall down.

Did he really think it would be that simple? I’d fall, and he’d kill me, and it would all be over? He’d retake his place at the estate, playing tyrant king to his army of puppet cousins, and no one would ever again mention that he’d murdered not just one, but two family heads?

He did.

He thought that if he beat me, everyone would be so afraid of him that they would give up and leave him alone. As though most of us weren’t clever enough to see that if we did leave him to his own devices, he’d come back and try it again. He wanted to rule the whole Summerlands, and as long as he was alive, he wouldn’t let us have peace.

Since we needed to work together to stop Mount Slate, we didn’t fucking have time for that. We needed to be able to stand in a room together and not be worried one of us was going to draw a sword on the others.

Or worse, bring my own fucking son to kill the others while we were trying to discuss peace.

Don’t try to talk to Soz yourself , I instructed Iri. If they are angry with you, that’s still not your fault, but they don’t need sympathy right now. They need something else .

What? What can I do? What can I give them? She was starting to sound panicked, and I could feel her grip on Huxley slipping. She wasn’t sure she could beat him.

“Hope .” I wasn’t sure if I said it just in my head to Iri, or aloud to everyone gathered. Everything was moving too fast, too hard, and the sharp edges of the world were flying at me like daggers as I tried to focus on stopping Huxley. The rest of the world was too much to think about. You have to give them hope, Iri. Give them Florian. Give them a future that’s different from the present. It’s the only thing worth changing for.