Thirty-Three

Rushing headfirst onto the stage was the first part of my strategy, but it was only a taste of the real plan. The blare of trumpets, regal and commanding, silences the crowd. All eyes swing to the back of the stage as Queen Lockhart strides forward, her long, elegant robes rain soaked and crimson as blood.

Gasps echo through the noble boxes, and once again, Four and Ivy are on their feet. Four opens his mouth to speak, but the queen holds up a hand, and he snaps his mouth shut.

“Lord Four, you made it seem like my son only required rest. That his injury was mild and his strain was more mental than physical. You lied . I have already lost a husband before his time, a husband who was a strong and decent king. I will not stand by and let my son fall too.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd as Marion and McDougall emerge from the shadows. They shuffle forward, grunting and flushed as they carry Alderic’s stretcher onto the stage.

The king is a trembling ghost of his former self, his face ashen, his lips cracked and dry. The gaping dagger wound in his stomach has festered, the skin around it black and green and oozing. The stench fills the air, a sickly-sweet odor that makes my stomach churn. His eyes flutter open briefly, no longer blue and vibrant, but the glassy, vacant stare of someone looking into death.

The crowd’s murmurs grow louder, morphing into breathy and shrill cries of disbelief.

I dig my teeth into my bottom lip to calm my roiling stomach and glance at Kane. Every muscle is tight, his gaze fixed on the rotted wound.

“Unchain the warrior,” the queen demands, her eyes locked onto the guards. “Now.”

The guards hesitate for a moment, their eyes darting to Four’s place within the noble boxes. But his seat is empty, and Queen Lockhart’s authority is absolute.

Slowly, one of the guards steps forward, his metal gauntlet clinking against the key ring. The cold iron groans as the guard inserts the key and the lock releases. The chains fall away, crashing against the stage in a clatter that echoes off the stone walls. Kane rubs his wrists, the skin red from the metal’s bite.

Queen Lockhart steps closer, her presence commanding even in her grief. “If there is any chance, any possibility, that magick can save my son, I will take it. I will not lose him as I lost my husband.” Her voice cracks on the last word, and my heart aches for her, for the kingdom that teeters on the edge of despair.

“You wish me to use magick?” Kane asks, his dark eyes narrowed. “You acknowledge it can be done?”

I hold my breath along with the rest of the crowd, watching in hushed anticipation, their earlier anger and cries for blood forgotten.

“I acknowledge there are many things within this realm I do not understand.”

Kane nods and moves toward Alderic’s writhing form when a commotion erupts in the crowd.

Heads turn as murmurs rise to shouts, and the sea of people parts. Four barrels through, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed. Ivy trails him, managing to look like a glistening mermaid in the torrential rainfall.

Four charges up the stairs two at a time and cuts off Kane’s path, standing like an immovable wall between the warrior and the king. “You will not touch our king. I can only guess the damage you will do.”

“You would rather your king die?” Queen Lockhart’s question is as sharp as the blade of the guillotine.

“I would rather our king is not used as a pawn in a condemned man’s last attempts at saving his neck,” Four sneers. “Magick is rarely given freely. It often comes with a price. One I am not sure Pentacles will be able to repay.”

“From what I saw inside the palace, Pentacles can afford to pay nearly anything,” I say, wincing when the guard digs his fingers into my bicep.

“ You… ” Four’s gaze snaps to me, his eyes narrowing. “Do not think I haven’t uncovered the truth of where you come from.”

“I do not care if they were birthed by dragons, so long as my son lives,” the queen snaps. “Now unhand her.”

The guard shoves me forward, and I manage to say upright, my arms windmilling by my sides.

“And what if news of this magick makes its way to the other kingdoms?” Four thunders. “They will see its use as an act of war. What are we to do then?”

“Is that not the very thing you have claimed to excel in resolving? Is your strategic prowess not why you have grown so close to my son, the king? You were supposed to protect him, prevent this. You failed. Now I must clean up your mess, and I have come to realize this is far from the only one you’ve made. Take care, Four, or you may end up in Blackthorne’s place on the guillotine.”

The muscles in Four’s jaw twitch as he struggles to maintain his composure, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Do it,” the queen commands. “Save my son.”

Kane kneels beside the king. Alderic’s trembling ghost-white hand reaches out, and Kane takes it in his.

Sensing his friend, Alderic takes a deep, quaking breath. “You have come to set me free.” His words are rough wheezes that shudder through his body.

“I am here to help you, my king, my brother.”

“There is no taste, no sun. The world is empty,” Alderic mutters, his eyes unfocused, lost in a delirious haze. “Oh, brother, forgive me. Forgive me…” He writhes once more before his hand falls limp, and his breathing evens out, slow and rattling.

The card in my bodice hums against my chest, syncing with the very essence of Kane’s magick as he holds his hands over Alderic’s wounds and murmurs noiseless words.

Soft golden light falls from Kane’s palms. The faint shimmer is delicate and ethereal, but with each beat of my heart, it expands until it cascades from his hands and over the dying king like liquid sunlight.

A gasp reverberates from the crowd as the healing magickal light continues to pour over Alderic. The glow intensifies, swirling and pulsing, spinning through the air and enveloping the king in a cloud of golden brilliance that lifts him from the stretcher.

Queen Lockhart watches with bated breath, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, knuckles white. Marion and McDougall stand nearby, their eyes never leaving Alderic. The entire kingdom holds its breath, waiting for the truth.

Dead skin drips from his wounds, mingling with the rain and splattering wet and rancid against the wood planks. The crowd’s gasp seems to pull the very air from the amphitheater. The guards stiffen, their hands inching toward their weapons.

“Wait!” I throw myself between Kane and the guards. “Let him heal King Lockhart. Let him finish.”

The golden light continues to pulse, each wave of energy bringing new life to the once-dying king. The light is warm and radiant, surging around Alderic like a gentle tide. His deathly pallor fades, his sickly-gray skin flushes healthy and rosy. The steady rain washes away the last bits of fetid skin from his abdomen.

I take a deep breath, the air clean and rich with the scents of pine and woodsmoke. Kane’s scents. Kane’s magick.

He continues to move his hands over Alderic’s middle, plucking the air, commanding the magick that’s been his since birth.

A velvety gold patch knits itself together within the gaping wound. The shimmering threads of magick twist and weave, sparkling like stardust. The aurous fibers spread slowly, filling and closing the wound as Alderic floats back down to the platform.

The queen falls to her knees beside her son, tears streaming down her face as she hugs him, her sobs muffled by his chest.

“The king lives!” McDougall shouts, and relief washes cold through my limbs as the crowd cheers.

It’s cut short when Four steps forward and raises his hands, commanding silence. “But what is the price for this magick? What other curses will befall our kingdom now that we have allied ourselves with a witch’s bastard?” His words are a venomous hiss, sending ripples of doubt and fear through the gathered townspeople.

The golden glow from Kane’s magick fades as he rises to his feet, his eyes locking onto Four. “We are brothers, then.” He’s calm, yet there’s an underlying threat that makes my heart race.

Four’s face is a rigid mask of feigned ignorance, but the flicker of recognition in his eyes betrays him.

“You will be found out sooner or later, and they will know you are the one kings fear.” Kane stands tall, his voice calm but laced with an edge meant to draw blood. “You speak of curses and doom, Four, but what of your own secrets? The darkness you hide?”

Four’s eyes narrow, but he remains silent, his jaw clenched.

Kane continues, stepping closer, his dark gaze never wavering. “The magick that flows through your veins, the same magick you condemn in others. How long have you hidden your true nature? How long have you deceived these people, pretending to be their savior while harboring the very power you claim to despise? The very power that kills them slowly.”

The crowd murmurs, glancing between Kane and Four.

“The truth will come out, Four. Your lies will unravel, and the people will see you for what you are—a coward hiding in the shadows of his own magick.”

Four’s hand twitches, his thumb and index finger rubbing together. Blue sparks flare so quickly, I would have missed them had I not seen them before.

Kane presses on, his voice rising. “What are you so afraid of, Four? That they will see your magick for what it truly is? That Alderic, that the kingdom, will know what you’ve done?”

Four steps forward, his face twisted in anger. “You know nothing, Blackthorne.”

“I know you are the true threat to this kingdom. Your magick, your lies—they are the poison. And if you won’t end this curse on our palace, on our king, then I will.”

Four’s fingers spark again, a flash of blue that hides in a blink. “You will regret your words.”

“Will I?” Kane challenges. “Or will you finally reveal the monster you truly are? Show them, Four. Show them the power you hide, the power you’ve used to bring them to their knees.”

The crowd watches, breathless and still as Kane’s words tinge the air.

Four rubs his thumb and index finger together. Blue sparks pop against his hands, tiny bursts of magickal energy that crackle and fizz in the damp.

Queen Lockhart rises to her feet, and Marion and McDougall immediately take her place at Alderic’s side, supporting him as he gingerly sits up.

She approaches Four, rain cleaning her face of tears. “Is there truth to Blackthorne’s claims?”

Four straightens, his shoulders tense and rigid. “Your Majesty, do not be fooled by this charlatan’s tricks. His magick may seem healing now, but it will demand a price—a price that Pentacles cannot afford.”

“The only price this kingdom has paid is for your deceit and treachery,” Kane sneers. “Your magick has eaten away at a strong king and turned him into nothing more than a puppet.”

The queen lifts her chin, her eyes narrowing as she glares up at Four. “Explain yourself. What is it that you have done?”

Four’s composure begins to crack, his hands sparking at his sides. “I have done nothing but protect this kingdom! It is his magick that will bring ruin upon us all!”

Kane’s voice cuts through Four’s frantic denials. “You speak of protection, yet you caused the fire. Your magick nearly killed the court and your king. Your greed is the reason Pentacles is starving; you’re hoarding the kingdom’s wealth and power for your own gain.”

A murmur runs through the crowd, their anger and fear swelling toward Four.

“Is this true, Four?” the queen demands through clenched teeth. “Have you been the architect of our suffering?”

Four’s body trembles, his hands sparking more violently now. “Lies! All lies! Blackthorne’s magick already poisons you.”

“You are one of our subjects, and I command you to answer! What have you done?”

“I’ve shown them mine.” Kane smirks. “Time for you to show yours.”

Four’s fury erupts. With a primal scream, he holds up his hands, releasing a torrent of crackling blue magick.

“Guards, seize him!” Queen Lockhart orders.

They rush toward him, but instead of putting him in chains, they form a protective shield around him.

I take a step back, my heart in my throat as they stare ahead, their irises as bright and blue as falling sky.

As bright and blue as Alderic’s.

“ No ,” I whisper, chills racing along my arms.

Four’s icy-blue magick swings toward Alderic. Without a word, the king surges to his feet, crystal-blue eyes beaming. In one swift motion, he pulls a sword from the nearest guard’s scabbard. The blade glistens in the rain like morning dew on grass as Alderic charges his mother and knocks her down. She bounces against the wooden planks and lies still.

“Majesty!” Marion cries out, rushing to her side.

McDougall lunges for Alderic, but another guard steps in, knocking him out cold with a swift blow to the head. The amphitheater erupts into chaotic screams and shouts as the townspeople flee in every direction and nobles scramble from their seats.

A gleam of silver catches my eye, and I spin around, searching for the weapon in the sea of frenzied bodies below the stage pushing and shoving to escape.

There it is again, like a minnow darting through a school of fish.

Without a second thought, I leap down, weaving through the stampede of panicked bodies. I manage to grab the dagger, my fingers curling around the slick hilt.

“Kane!” I call, rushing back to the stage just as Alderic swings the sword at him with relentless, mindless fury.

Kane sidesteps and grabs for the arm that holds the blade with constrained movements that will subdue but not damage.

“Here, use this!” I slide the dagger across the wooden planks, the blade glinting as it skids toward him.

He slams his foot on the dagger, halting its slide, and quickly picks it up as Alderic lunges at him again. The king’s face is pale, yellow rings of sweat stain his shirt, unbuttoned and open, revealing peeks of the velvety gold scar across his stomach, but his eyes shine an otherworldly blue that nearly stops me in my tracks.

The crowd’s screams fill the air, the sound of panic all around us. I glance at Queen Lockhart, now on her knees and clutching her arm with Marion beside her.

Four’s magick continues to spark bright blue from his palms.

His face twists, desperate to maintain his hold over the guards and Alderic. “You’ll never win, Blackthorne! Pentacles will be mine!”

Kane blocks another strike from Alderic, the clash of metal ringing through the air. He glances at me, a brief moment of connection, and I understand his unspoken message.

We need to break Four’s control.

I move around the edge of the stage. Every muscle in my body is tense and ready. I keep low, my eyes locked on Four. If I can get close enough, maybe I can disrupt his concentration.

Alderic swings again, and Kane deflects the blow, stepping back to draw him away from the queen and Marion. “Your fight is with me, Four. Leave them out of this!”

Four sneers, his hands trembling with the effort of maintaining his spell. “You deserved to be alone and isolated. You never should have returned.”

I’m almost there. I can see the sweat and rain on Four’s brow, the blue sparks of his magick flaring and flickering. Just a few more steps—

Someone grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me backward.

I gasp, struggling to regain my balance as Ivy spins me around.

We face each other, rain pouring, the ground turned to mud beneath our feet. Ivy’s beautiful, she always will be, but right now she’s more Ursula than the Little Mermaid.

“You can’t stop him,” she snarls. “I’ll make sure of that.”

She lunges at me, her fingers outstretched like claws.

We collide, our feet sliding in the mud. I shove her back, but she’s relentless. We fall to the ground, rolling and slipping in the muck, neither of us able to gain the upper hand.

My fingers find her hair, pulling hard as she pins my arms to the ground and digs her nails into my flesh. Blood blooms in crescents against my skin, and I cry out.

“I told you to go back to where you belong,” she hisses and grabs my throat.

I tear at her arms, twisting and slapping until I finally throw her off. I scramble to my feet, and she follows, her dress torn and muddy, her green eyes wild with fury.

We circle each other, my lungs burning, my vision dark around the edges.

“It’s your turn to leave.” I launch myself at her, and we crash against the side of the stage.

She writhes and squirms, clawing at my face and neck. We roll against the stage, and I use the momentum to slam her head against a wooden post.

She shouts and staggers back. Stunned, she touches the back of her head and stares down at the blood smearing her palm.

The crowd waits behind her, roaring with anger from the cruelty they’ve suffered at her hand. Ivy feels them at her back, and her limbs stiffen and eyes widen.

“I belong here.” With a fierce yell, I barrel into her, shoving her backward with all my might.

The crowd descends upon her, their shouts of fury and revenge drowning out her screams.

I swipe the mud from my face and turn back to the chaos onstage.

Kane has wrestled the sword from Alderic but remains locked in a battle with the king to stop him without hurting him.

My gaze swings to the guards, who force Marion and McDougall to their knees next to the guillotine, the lunette already cradling Queen Lockhart’s neck.

Four’s face is scarlet with effort, tendons and veins bulging against his neck with the pressure of controlling so many for so long.

I sprint up the stairs and toward Four, my steps sure despite the slippery planks. He’s too concerned with who he thinks are the real threats to notice me.

With my remaining strength, I tackle Four.

Blue magick sparks around me, singeing my hair and flashing hot against my skin before we smack onto the stage in a cloud of extinguished magick. We grapple, his hands trying to push me off, but I hold on, my grip unyielding.

I don’t need to beat him—I just need to distract him.

“You think you’re a hero?” he spits.

“No,” I grunt, a lazy smile lifting my cheek. “But I know one.”

Forever my knight in shining armor, Kane comes to my rescue in an instant.

I release my hold on Four and roll to the side. Kane lunges forward, the dagger in his hand. I hear the tear of flesh and the wet gurgle of blood before I look back.

“Your reign of terror is over,” Kane growls.

Four’s body convulses once, twice, then goes still, leaving only the patter of the rain and the muffled shouts of the crowd.

Kane pulls me to my feet and wraps me in the strength and warmth of his arms. I bury my face in his chest, inhaling sweat and pine as the queen’s voice rises, calling for order. I don’t listen. Right now, all that exists is us—me and Kane—and the fact I’m finally back in his arms.