Chapter 42

His fingers pressed into my soft skin like an iron band, squeezing harder with each moment we stayed there, locked in place. The suffocating press of his grip hurt less than the look of horror in his eyes as we stared at one another.

"What did you think I meant when I told you your heart belonged to me?" Madrigal crooned at him. "Your life is mine, pet. Unless …"

Emrys's face was terrible, void of any emotion, save for his eyes. I shifted my gaze to the sorceress, a tremor of fury building in me. She met my gaze with a look of twisted delight.

"Unless, Beastie, you'd like to take the dagger in your hand," the sorceress continued, "and plunge it into the pretty little heart I made for him? You can take your chances that cutting his hand off would be enough, but, of course, he does possess another one."

Our mortal lives had always been a game to her. I'd known that from the moment I'd met her. Even now, we were little better than entertainment.

"You sick freak —" I spat at her, the word strangling off as Emrys's hand tightened. His face was a stony mask, but a noise of pure, raw pain built in his chest. His other hand captured mine, drawing it and the dagger's razor-sharp tip to just above his heart.

"Go on, Beastie," Madrigal encouraged. "Do it. "

His eyes were pleading for it. Begging. His grip on my neck tightened again, until I couldn't draw another breath at all.

"Fine," Madrigal said, pouting. "Bring her to me, pet."

She took a step toward us, beckoning with her hand. The movement drew my eye down to the point of her shoe—and what lay a few feet away from it.

Shadows crept in at the edge of my vision as I fought to breathe. That terrible look was still in his eyes—they shone, silver and emerald, in the strange light.

When Emrys moved, I was forced to follow. Any resistance would have pushed the dagger into his skin. One step. Two.

Madrigal's lips curled as she raised her wand.

Then, with what strength I had left, I hooked my foot under the hilt of the sword Emrys had dropped and kicked it as hard as I could in her direction. The blade spun, tearing through the smoke, revealing the curse sigil the instant before the hilt scraped over it.

The floor splintered around her, and before she could raise her wand, it collapsed, plunging her down into the darkness of the cellar.

Emrys gave a ragged gasp as the hold on him released, and his muscles relaxed. He ripped his hands away from me, and smoky air filled my lungs again. I bent at the waist, touching my throat, trying to steady myself.

"Are you all right? Tamsin? Are you okay?" Emrys asked frantically, lifting me upright, crushing me to him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the sudden urge to cry. He was shaking, and as he pulled back, his hands skimming over my neck, he looked sick with grief.

I gripped his wrists. "I'm all right. I'm—we—" I drew in a deeper breath. "We have to find Neve."

He nodded, his eyes still lingering on my face. "Right. Yeah. I think—there should be another way up over here."

He led me away from the entrance hall, toward the western wing, where the smoke seemed to be emanating from. But as he reached the arch that separated the foyer from the hall, his running steps slowed so suddenly, I collided with his back.

"What?" I asked, searching for the threat. "This damn smoke—I can't see anything …"

That wasn't true. As I turned, I could see his face. The strange expression there, confusion and fear in his eyes.

"Emrys?"

He staggered forward, gasping as he clutched at his chest.

"Emrys!"

He collapsed onto his knees, coughing, splattering blood onto the stone floor.

"What? What's wrong?" I dropped beside him, catching him by the shoulders, but his weight made it impossible to keep him upright. He fell across my lap, coughing up more blood. "Emrys!"

Emrys's words in Lyonesse returned to me like a knife in the ribs. She had made me a new heart.

"No!" I shouted. "Please!"

She told me some part of my heart would aways beat for her.

Emrys gripped my arm, fighting for his breath. Blood dribbled over his lips, and his skin had taken on a deathlike pallor.

She could unmake it just as easily.

"Please stop!" I looked back toward the collapsed floor, begging for mercy I knew would never come.

I gripped Emrys's face with shaking hands, turning it toward mine. His eyes were wide with pain and terror. "No, no, no … you're going to be all right, do you hear me? Do you hear me? "

Not again, not again, not again—

I turned back toward the hall again, screaming, "Help! Someone!"

Emrys's hand squeezed my arm, returning my attention to him.

"You're—you're going to be all right," I said, knowing I was babbling. I smoothed a hand over his face, cleaning the blood away as quickly as it appeared on his lips. I kissed him then, desperately. "You're going to be all right—"

"Your … tell …," he said faintly. "You look … down … to left …"

"Don't," I pleaded, feeling myself start to splinter again. "Don't."

His labored breathing slowed. I almost didn't hear him as he said, "I'd … stay."

I'd stay with you.

And then the last breath left, and there was no heart left to beat.

"Emrys?" I whispered.

His eyes were still open. Still on me. But there was nothing behind them. There was nothing at all.

My scream choked off into a strangled sob. My hands hovered over him, not wanting to touch him, not wanting to feel his skin turn cold, but needing to.

This isn't real.

It couldn't be.

I curled down over him, pressing my head to his still chest. The scar on my heart tore open and pain flooded through me until all I could do was hold him while I broke apart.

"No!"

Neve was standing a short distance away from us in the atrium, her white gown streaked with blood. If the flowers hadn't already fallen from her crown, they would have been burned away by the fury of her expression. The pain as her gaze met mine.

Blue-white light gathered on her skin, and as she screamed, it exploded out of her. The magic flooded the halls with its burning power, driving back the smoke, the darkness. The last of the hunters shrieked as they were incinerated.

But not even the purest light could save what had already been lost.