Sandy Williams - The Sharpest Blade

Aren finishes the job I started, and I watch the fae’s body disappear. I refuse to feel remorse. I refuse to feel nausea. I refuse to feel . . .

Oh, God. “Kyol.”

I don’t feel anything, not even his mental wall, because I had him drugged. He’s lying unconscious and defenseless in his room.

“McKenzie, don’t,” Aren says, but I’m already running for the door. He grabs my arm before I make it to the hall.

“McKenzie,” he says, turning me toward him. His eyes are worried but determined. “I have to find Lena.”

“I . . .” I want to scream. Lena’s more important than Kyol. In my head, I know that. In my heart . . . Kyol’s a part of my history, but he’s also a part of me . How can I abandon him?

“God.” I press the heel of my free hand against my temple. I’m so sick of having no choices.

“Okay,” I say, hating myself. “Okay. We’ll find Lena.” And maybe Kyol will be safer in his room.

Aren lets out a breath, then he steps into the hallway. It’s not empty. Lena’s fae are at both ends, fighting off the false-blood’s people. If Aren and I join the fight, we’ll even out the numbers, but I’m not anxious to go blade to blade with the elari .

“It sure would be nice if I had my tranq gun,” I mutter.

Aren, who decided it would be a great idea to throw my backpack out the window, gives me an apologetic smile. “Didn’t think we’d need it. Anyone heading our way?”

I focus on the elari again. One of them has crept past the swinging blades.

“Left wall, ten paces,” I tell Aren, shutting out everything to do my job. He continues forward so casually I’m not sure he heard me, but just when I’m about to shout a warning, he surges forward, closing the distance between him and the fae.

The elari intercepts Aren’s attack with ease, but he’s visible now.

And now, he’s dead.

“Beside me, McKenzie,” Aren says. I run to catch up with him, and he takes me into the servants’ corridor. The same corridor I hid in earlier and where I—

“Lorn?” Aren says before I can warn him. He crouches beside the fae, who’s sitting up. The antidote neutralized the tranquilizer quicker than I thought it would. “What happened?”

“He tried to stop me,” I say before Lorn can answer. I fully expect to get an earful anyway, but Lorn accepts the help Aren offers him, and they both rise.

A scream rings out from the main hallway. Lorn frowns in that direction.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

“The elari ,” Aren says. “They’ve invaded.”

Lorn’s eyes widen. He’s definitely not himself yet, though. His pupils are unnaturally large.

“Lena,” he says, swaying. “Is she okay?”

“We don’t know. We’re looking for her.” Aren’s head whips left as a second scream erupts from farther down our narrow corridor. “McKenzie?”

I move past him, my gaze searching the darkness. “I don’t see anyone.”

“Can you walk?” Aren asks Lorn.

“Barely,” he says acidly, looking at me. I hold his gaze for half a second before I start down the corridor.

“If you could watch our backs,” Aren says, “I’d appreciate it.”

“Lena should be in the Mirrored Hall,” I tell Aren when he catches up with me.

“Yes,” he answers, though I wasn’t asking a question. The Mirrored Hall was where Lena met with the high nobles. If she’s still there or has fled this way, we should come across her. If we don’t . . . If we don’t, it won’t be a good sign.

We’re only a few steps down the corridor when my spine tingles. I feel someone following us, someone besides Lorn. Tightening my grip on my sword, I turn.

Ah, hell.

“No, Sosch,” I say, kneeling down as the kimki scurries into my arms. “No. You can’t follow us.”

“Scratching behind his ears isn’t going to get rid of him,” Aren says behind me.

I don’t answer him; I just push Sosch away and tell him, “Go.”

He rolls to his back, belly up.

“Nom Sidhe,” Lorn curses. “Just get rid of the animal.”

Sosch looks at Lorn, and I swear his next chirp-squeak sounds more like a chirp-hiss .

I stand, then, more firmly, I say, “Go.”

When he rolls onto my foot, I give him the gentlest shove with my shoe. His whiskers twitch as if I’ve just attempted a field-goal kick with his head.

“Come on,” Aren says, taking my arm, pulling me down the corridor. When Sosch follows us again, Aren turns and, in Fae, growls out, “No! Go find a fissure!”

The damn kimki listens to him, of course. He curls into a ball and blows air out of his mouth, wiggling his whiskers in discontent.

We don’t stumble across any more of the elari , but when we step out of the corridor and into the Mirrored Hall, evidence of their presence paints the floor and furniture. Blood streaks across the long wood table like spilled wine, and more than half the chairs are overturned. My foot hits a sword that’s lying in a pool of crimson, and the smell . . . It’s acrid and metallic.

I breathe through my mouth and try not to gag. I try to ignore the scene entirely. I can’t let the violence touch me.

“How do we know if she’s alive?” I ask quietly. The wide, double doors to this room aren’t completely shut. My gaze swings between them and the almost hidden servants’ corridor we exited. It unnerves me that no one is here. Where are the elari ? Where is the false-blood?

Where the hell is Lena?

Aren doesn’t answer my question. He walks slowly alongside the table, taking care not to step in the blood. Finally, he says, “The false-blood shouldn’t be capable of this. We have guards on the Sidhe Tol —all four of them.”

“He wouldn’t have to use a Sidhe Tol .”

I glance over my shoulder as Lorn makes his way toward us, using a chair for balance. Even with its aid, he looks like a sailor who hasn’t gained his sea legs yet.

Or, he looks like a man who was knocked out with a tranq gun.

“Do you know something we don’t?” I ask. It’s actually a stupid question. Of course Lorn knows something we don’t. That’s his joy in life. Hell, he probably knows the location of all the Sidhe Tol , the extremely rare, special gates that allow fae to fissure to places protected by silver.

“A slaughter like this would be easy to accomplish if your enemies trust the fae they’re fighting with.”

Aren’s jaw clenches. Lorn notices it, and says, “I decouraged Lena’s recruitment drive.”

Discouraged. I don’t know if the tranq is causing him to trip up on his words or if it was just a mistake, but I get what he’s saying.

“We screened the new recruits.”

“You didn’t screen them well,” Lorn says. “You’ve added several of my fae to your lists.”

Aren gives Lorn a tight smile. “We know.”

“Do you?” Lorn asks. “Or do you know only the fae that I want you to?”

I roll my eyes. “This isn’t accomplishing anything. We need to know if Lena’s alive.”

“You moved too quickly taking over the palace,” Lorn says. His words sound like an accusation, like he’s blaming Aren for this invasion.

“The opportunity was there,” Aren fires back. “We had no choice but to take it.”

“That’s exactly what the false-blood wanted. You weakened the king, the king’s remnants weakened you. Makes it simple for the Taelith and his elari to take over now.”

“It would have been helpful if you’d given us that information months ago.” He turns his back on Lorn, nods to me, then makes his way toward the double doors.