The Sharpest Blade ml-3

by Sandy Williams

  No one says a word once I’m inside. I keep silent as well. I don’t need them to tell me where Kyol is. He might be eclipsing his emotions, but he can’t hide his location. He’s in the northern wing of the palace. In Lena’s apartments, most likely.

  Less than ten minutes later, I’m stopped before I enter the queen’s antechamber. I don’t recognize the fae standing between me and the open double doorway, but my guess is they’re fae who are loyal to Hison. The high noble is inside. He’s speaking to Lena. Her back is to me, so I can’t read her expression. She’s rigid, though, and I’m hoping she’s angry and resolute, that she’s refusing to allow Hison to arrest and execute Kyol, who’s somewhere in the room.

  I try to push my way past the fae in front of me. One of them, a tall, thick-chested man with a green-and-white name-cord braided into his hair, shoves me back.

  I slam into Trev, who steadies me before he takes an aggressive step toward the other fae. All the fae guarding the door must be on edge. They overreact, drawing their weapons and moving to intercept each one of my escorts.

  “Kyol!” I yell, but I already feel him moving toward me, shoving aside Hison’s men.

  “Don’t do this,” I tell him as he pulls me into his arms.

  “Quiet!” he orders.

  I dig my fingers into the hard muscles of his forearms. Hison’s ordering his men to arrest Kyol; Lena’s ordering them to stand down. I won’t let them take him away. I have to get through to Kyol, use everything in my arsenal to make him deny his involvement in the king’s death.

  “The life-bond—”

  “Quiet!” Kyol says again, shaking me. We’re touching. All my emotions jumble with his. I can’t sort them out.

  “Please, Kyol.”

  “Lord Hison, control your fae,” Lena says. “You’ve taken my sword-master. You cannot have my lord general as well.”

  Hison issues an order to his people. They step back.

  Kyol’s jaw clenches. His silver eyes are dark and pain-laced as they stare into mine. “I’ll fix this, McKenzie,” he says. “I’ll find a way to fix it.”

  “Fix it?” I echo. He never should have admitted to it in the first . . .

  You’ve taken my sword-master. Lena’s words ring in my head. The room seems to spin. This whole situation is wrong. If Hison knows Kyol is the garistyn, why is he letting him stand here armed and unshackled?

  Realization slides over me.

  “No.” I back away. “No, Aren wouldn’t . . .”

  Kyol grabs my arm, pulls me close, then lowers his voice. “You must stay silent!”

  It feels like a knife has lodged in my heart. My blood roars in my ears, so loud I barely hear Lena order Hison and his fae to leave.

  “Where is he?” I ask as soon as the room is clear of everyone but me, Lena, and Kyol.

  When Lena doesn’t answer immediately, I face her fully. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” she bites out. “Hison doesn’t trust me. His men took him away until the . . .” She presses her lips together, and when she speaks again, her voice is tight. “Until the execution.”

  “Why didn’t you stop them?”

  Lena grimaces, then turns slightly away from me, staring at the antechamber’s closed doors.

  “You didn’t try,” I whisper, interpreting her silence. “You sacrificed him.”

  Her shoulders quaver when she draws in a breath. She doesn’t deny my accusations, though. She let them take him.

  Horror twists through my gut. How could she do that? Aren fought for the throne for her. He fought for her family for years. He’s the only reason she’s alive, and she’s turned her back on him.

  A litany of curses and accusations scream through my mind. The only thing that keeps me from saying them out loud is the expression on her face. It’s a mix of regret and self-loathing, maybe a touch of helplessness.

  “Hison came to arrest us,” Kyol says. “It would have crippled Lena. She’d have no hope of becoming queen.”

  “She’s never going to become queen!” I yell.

  “He told us not to fight.”

  “What?”

  “He told us not to fight, McKenzie,” Kyol says again.

  I lower my voice, make it as hard as steel. “And you both just listened?”

  In my peripheral vision, I see Lena’s head lower. She says, very softly in Fae, “I’m sorry.”

  The apology infuriates me. I just barely manage not to explode. Instead, I lock eyes with Kyol and say, “We’re freeing him.”

  “We don’t know where Hison’s holding him,” he says.

  “You can find out.”

  He doesn’t respond to that, probably because we both know it’s true. The fae respect him, especially the palace fae. Someone will have seen where Aren was taken. They’ll tell Kyol. All he has to do is ask.

  And he will ask.

  * * *

  I’M sitting on a bench in the palace’s sculpture garden, staring at the ground. I hate this, the waiting. The doing nothing. I shouldn’t be here, and Aren shouldn’t be crowding my mind. I should be focused on other things, like the false-blood, the remnants, or the Sight serum. I should be concerned about Lena and her fragile Court. I shouldn’t be worried about members of that Court executing an innocent man.

  Aren shouldn’t be facing down death. No one should.

  A sudden tension runs through Kyol. I tilt my head slightly, as if that will make me more in tune with him and his surroundings, but his emotions return to a warm, neutral simmer. He’s still in the palace, but he’s not moving anymore. Maybe he’s found Aren?

  Or maybe men loyal to Hison have found Kyol.

  “I heard what happened.”

  Naito’s voice startles me. I look up, notice that his shadow is falling over me. “How long have you been standing here?”

  “Not that long,” he says, then he sits next to me on the bench. An anchor-stone is in his hand. He runs his thumb over its surface. It’s smooth there, like he’s rubbed that same place over and over again. “What are you planning?”

  “The assassination of a high noble,” I say, not surprised by his question. He wouldn’t expect me to sit back and do nothing any more than I’d expect him to if someone he loved was in trouble.

  He meets my gaze, scrutinizing me as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m joking or not. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? It might be . . . difficult.”

  “I’m being trained by the best swordsman in the Realm. Of course it’s a great idea.”

  At that, he chuckles.

  “Aren is more of a brother to me than Lee has ever been.” His thumb slides over the anchor-stone again. “I’ll do what I can to help you get him out, but we might want to start with something a little more achievable.”

  “Kyol’s trying to find him.”

  “Is he trying to free him?” Naito asks the question way too casually.

  “If he has the opportunity, yes,” I say, lowering my voice. No one’s near us, but the fae have excellent hearing. I don’t want to take the chance that one of them can understand English. “I don’t think he’ll be able to, though. He can’t let Hison or anyone else know he’s involved with Aren’s escape. Once we find out where he is . . .”

  I fade off, trying to identify the emotion that spikes through my life-bond. Kyol tames it within seconds, but I swear his heart rate is escalated. He hasn’t moved from where he was a few minutes ago. God, please don’t let him be in trouble. I can’t save both of them.

  “McKenzie?”

  I focus again on Naito. “Sorry. I’m distracted.”

  He stares at the anchor-stone. “Kelia always said Lorn’s emotions were muted when they were in different worlds.” A small, nostalgic grin touches his lips. “So she preferred to be in the Realm when we made love. It was her revenge.”

  I smile, too. You can’t force a life-bond on someone. Both parties have to want it. On some level, I must have wanted it when Kyol made the connection with me, an
d Kelia must have wanted it with Lorn. I’m not sure what he did to deserve her vengeance, but knowing Lorn, I’m sure it was something.

  “There’s really no way to break it?” I ask.

  “There were rumors,” he says, turning the stone in his hand, “but I promise you, we tried all of them. We tried hunting down fae who supposedly could sever the bond. They were all dead ends. Then Kelia attempted to form a new bond with someone she hated less. When that didn’t work, she tried exhausting her magic to the point I made her stop because I was afraid she’d turn tor’um. Death is the only cure.”

  I bite my lower lip, refusing to cry. I don’t want Kyol to die, but I don’t want Aren to, either. And why would he do this? Why would he sacrifice himself to save Kyol when he hates him? He can’t be doing this just because he knows how much it will hurt me if Kyol dies.

  My throat burns when I swallow. Kyol’s moving now, making his way back in this direction. Maybe he’ll have answers.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask Naito. “I thought you were helping Lee test the serums.”

  “Trev came back for us. He mentioned what happened.” He pockets the anchor-stone. “We’re finished for now, anyway. We have to wait a few hours, then see what the serum does to the blood samples. Theoretically, we’ll be able to match the changes in the test tubes to the changes that have already happened in Lee. Something like that, at least. He acts like he knows what he’s doing.”

  “You’ll need Paige’s blood, too?”

  “To make sure she injected the nonlethal serum, yeah. You still haven’t talked to her?”

  “No.” I rub at the headache forming between my eyes. I must be a terrible person because Paige’s situation—the possibility that she might be dead or dying—is the furthest thing from my mind.

  “Kyol’s heading back,” I say, standing. “I need to talk to him.”

  Naito nods. “I’ll help any way I can.”

  I give him a troubled smile, then head off to intercept Kyol, praying he has a plan to rescue Aren.

  I don’t need the life-bond to know that Kyol isn’t bringing good news. He meets my gaze as he strides toward me. There’s no hesitation in his steps, no flicker of emotion in his silver eyes. He’s only this rigid and controlled when things aren’t going well.

  My stomach tightens into knots. I brace myself for the worst, then ask, “How is he?”

  “Not here,” he says. He passes by, leaving me no choice but to follow. The corridor we’re in is empty, but apparently not empty enough for him. He leads me to the palace’s residential wing, then to my room. Closing the door behind us, he says, “I talked to Jorreb. He refused to take back his words. He said it wouldn’t matter now if he tried. In the high nobles’ minds, he’s been guilty since they learned of Atroth’s death.”

  My eyes sting, and nausea churns in my stomach. I believe the last part, that the high nobles think he killed the king. Even though Aren never intended to take the throne himself, he led the fight against Atroth’s Court fae. His sword killed the king’s soldiers, soldiers who came from each of the Realm’s provinces. The high nobles won’t let that go. But I don’t believe this is just about bringing the kingkiller to justice; this is about revenge. The high nobles thirst for it.

  “The high nobles can go to hell,” I say. “I won’t let them kill Aren. How do we free him?”

  I keep my eyes locked on Kyol’s, waiting for his answer. The seconds tick by. His expression doesn’t change, but I feel a dozen emotions tumble through him. His walls are fragile right now.

  “Kyol?” I press.

  He draws in a breath. His shoulders hunch slightly, then he says, “He asked me to let this happen, McKenzie.”

  “Let what happen?” I ask, refusing to understand him.

  “The execution.”

  Those two words knock the air from my lungs.

  “He wants us to let Hison kill him?” It doesn’t make sense at all. Aren isn’t suicidal.

  “It’s the best thing for Lena and the Realm,” Kyol says. “It’s the best thing for you.”

  My mind locks on the words It’s the best thing for you, and the fear and frustration I’m trying so hard to hold to a simmer explode into a full-out boil.

  “You want him to die!” I yell.

  “No—”

  “If he’s dead, you think you’ll have another chance with me.”

  He reaches for my arm. “McKenzie—”

  “You won’t!” I jab my finger at his chest. “I gave you ten years of chances, and you turned them all down.”

  My heart shatters when I feel his break, but I hold the pieces of mine together with sheer willpower.

  “This isn’t about me, McKenzie. This is what Jorreb wants.”

  “I’m sure you tried to talk him out of it,” I say with a bitter laugh.

  “I did,” Kyol says. “I swear to you, I did.”

  “Bullshit!”

  My words make him flinch, and he retreats a step. I pursue him, my rage increasing, not decreasing. “Everything I feel for you now is manipulated by magic. I won’t give in to it. Even if Aren dies.”

  My voice cracks over the last word.

  “I know,” Kyol says. “I know!”

  “I’ll talk to Hison. I’ll tell him . . .” I can’t tell Hison the truth. As angry as I am at Kyol, I won’t let him die either.

  Kyol grabs both my wrists, backs me up against the wall. “I’m sorry, McKenzie. Sidhe, I’m sorry.” He drops his gaze to the floor, shakes his head slowly. “I’d tell the high nobles the truth if it wouldn’t kill you.”

  My chaos lusters leap from my skin to his. We’re touching, so they’re hot and potent, but my eyes pool with tears.

  “It would kill you,” he says softly. Then he swallows and meets my gaze. “The other human-fae life-bonds . . . They all ended the same. When either person died, so did the other. That’s why he’s doing this, McKenzie. He’s sacrificing himself to save you, not me.”

  It takes several heartbeats for his words to sink in, but I shake my head in disbelief. That can’t be true. Lorn survived Kelia’s death. I’ve seen other fae survive the deaths of their bond-mates as well. I’ve never heard of both dying.

  But, God, what if it is true? Lena told me life-bonds between human and fae always ended badly, and when Aren learned about our connection, he said the only reason he didn’t kill Kyol on the spot was because it would kill me. I thought he meant that figuratively.

  “If I die, McKenzie,” Kyol continues, “you die. And if you die, I will. I’m sorry. I’m deeply sorry for every time I’ve hurt you.”

  “You’re hurting me now,” I say. The words are true on so many levels. He’s touching me, so his emotions, his pain and angst, move freely into me. So does his resolve. I can feel it solidifying in him. I can feel Aren slipping further and further away.

  “I know.” He closes his eyes and swallows. He wants so much to pull me into his arms and comfort me.

  “You’re not going to help me save him,” I whisper because I need to hear him say it out loud.

  “No,” he says. “And I’m to tell you that, if you try to free him on your own, he won’t go. He’s doing what he thinks is the right thing for you. You never should have been caught up in this war.”

  I don’t know if those last words are his or Aren’s. It doesn’t matter. Fury builds under my skin, threatening to kindle the breath I draw in. Kyol knows how close to exploding I am. I feel his misery, but nothing I say or do will change his mind because he thinks Aren’s doing the right thing, and he thinks it’s his duty to make sure it happens.

  I bite my lower lip and taste blood. Screw them both. They’re not making this decision for me. Aren’s an idiot to think I’ll let us end like this. We won’t. I’ll free him myself if I have to.

  “I’ll stop you,” Kyol says softly.

  I meet his gaze, see the regret in his stormy eyes. I’ve never felt so betrayed.

  TWENTY-THREE

  I WATCH
LEE drop three white tablets into a bottle of cabus. After they disappear into the crimson liquid, Lee stuffs the cork back into the top, then shakes the bottle to dissolve the pills.

  “Are you sure it won’t hurt him?” I ask.

  “I’m sure,” Lee says. “Dad used them all the time on fae. They were fine.”

  I glance at Naito, who’s sitting on a padded bench. He gives me a curt nod.

  “It’ll take ten to twenty minutes to work, depending on how much he drinks, but it’ll knock him out for around six hours,” Lee says, handing me the bottle. I nearly drop it.

  “Six hours? I don’t need more than one or two.”

  Lee shrugs. “You’re the one who wanted to drug him.”

  His nonchalance annoys me. I’m furious at Kyol, but I don’t want to harm him. Lee, though? He doesn’t care about him at all. He doesn’t care about any of the fae. Both he and Naito were raised to hate them, and while Naito’s completely shaken off that brainwashing, his brother hasn’t. He still doesn’t trust the fae.

  Lee lets out a sigh. “I promise he’ll be fine.”

  I have to accept him at his word.

  I turn to Naito. “I can’t give this to Kyol. He’ll know I’ve done something to it.”

  “You should be able to hide your emotions better,” Naito says, standing. “I’ll make sure he gets it. Here, you’ll need this.” He takes the bottle, then places a gun in my hand. It’s not as heavy as the firearms I’ve held before, but a similar feeling of discomfort moves through me when I tighten my hand around the metal grip. The barrel of the gun looks odd, most likely because bullets aren’t fired from it. Specially made darts are.

  “How does it work?” I ask.

  “You pull the trigger,” Lee says.

  I roll my eyes at him. “How does the tranquilizer work? Will the fae go down immediately?”

  “They’ll be disoriented immediately. Most lose consciousness within twenty seconds.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “Shoot them again,” he says. “Then give them one of these if you want them to live.”