V.E Schwab - A Darker Shade of Magic

Rhy frowned. “I love you, Kell, but I had no interest in matching tattoos.”

Kell smiled sadly. “You were dying, Rhy. I saved your life.”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell Rhy the whole truth: that the stone hadn’t only saved his life but had restored it.

“How?” demanded the prince. “At what cost?”

“One I paid,” said Kell. “And would pay again.”

“Answer me without circles!”

“I bound your life to mine,” said Kell, “As long as I live, so shall you.”

Rhy’s eyes widened. “You did what?” he whispered, horrified. “I should get out of this bed and wring your neck.”

“I wouldn’t,” advised Kell. “Your pain is mine and mine is yours.”

Rhy’s hands curled into fists. “How could you?” he said, and Kell worried that the prince was bitter about being tethered to him. Instead, Rhy said, “How could you carry that weight?”

“It is as it is, Rhy. It cannot be undone. So please, be grateful, and be done with it.”

“How can I be done with it?” scorned Rhy, already slipping back into a more playful tone. “It is carved into my chest.”

“Lovers like men with scars,” said Kell, cracking a smile. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Rhy sighed and tipped his head back, and the two fell into silence. At first, it was an easy quiet, but then it began to thicken, and just when Kell was about to break it, Rhy beat him to the act.

“What have I done?” he whispered, amber eyes cast up against the gossamer ceiling. “What have I done, Kell?” He rolled his head so he could see his brother. “Holland brought me that necklace. He said it was a gift, and I believed him. Said it was from this London, and I believed him.”

“You made a mistake, Rhy. Everybody makes them. Even royal princes. I’ve made many. It’s only fair that you make one.”

“I should have known better. I did know better,” he added, his voice cracking.

He tried to sit up, and winced. Kell urged him back down. “Why did you take it?” he asked when the prince was settled.

For once, Rhy would not meet his gaze. “Holland said it would bring me strength.”

Kell’s brow furrowed. “You are already strong.”

“Not like you. That is, I know I’ll never be like you. But I have no gift for magic, and it makes me feel weak. One day I’m going to be king. I wanted to be a strong king.”

“Magic does not make people strong, Rhy. Trust me. And you have something better. You have the people’s love.”

“It’s easy to be loved. I want to be respected, and I thought …” Rhy’s voice was barely a whisper. “I took the necklace. All that matters is that I took it.” Tears began to escape, running into his black curls. “And I could have ruined everything. I could have lost the crown before I ever wore it. I could have doomed my city to war or chaos or collapse.”

“What sons our parents have,” said Kell gently. “Between the two of us, we’ll tear the whole world down.”

Rhy let out a stifled sound between a laugh and a sob. “Will they ever forgive us?”

Kell mustered a smile. “I am no longer in chains. That speaks to progress.”

The king and queen had sent word across the city, by guard and scrying board alike, that Kell was innocent of all charges. But the eyes in the street still hung on him, wariness and fear and suspicion woven through the reverence. Maybe when Rhy was well again and could speak to his people directly, they would believe he was all right and that Kell had had no hand in the darkness that had fallen over the palace that night. Maybe, but Kell doubted it would ever be as simple as it had been before.

“I meant to tell you,” said Rhy. “Tieren came to visit. He brought some—”

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Before either Rhy or Kell could answer, Lila stormed into the room. She was still wearing her new coat—patches sewn over the spots where it had been torn by bullet and blade and stone—but she’d been bathed at least, and a gold clasp held the hair out of her eyes. She still looked a bit like a starved bird, but she was clean and fed and mended.

“I don’t like the way the guards are looking at me,” she said before glancing up and seeing the prince’s gold eyes on her. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Then what did you mean to do?” challenged Kell.

Rhy held up his hand. “You are surely not an intrusion,” he said, pushing himself up in the bed. “Though I fear you’ve met me rather out of my usual state of grace. Do you have a name?”

“Delilah Bard,” she said. “We’ve met before. And you looked worse.”

Rhy laughed silently. “I apologize for anything I might have done. I was not myself.”

“I apologize for shooting you in the leg,” said Lila. “I was myself entirely.”

Rhy broke into his perfect smile.

“I like this one,” he said to Kell. “Can I borrow her?”

“You can try,” said Lila, raising a brow. “But you’ll be a prince without his fingers.”

Kell grimaced, but Rhy only laughed. The laughter quickly dissolved into wincing, and Kell reached out to steady his brother, even as the pain echoed in his own chest.

“Save your flirting for when you’re well,” he said.

Kell pushed to his feet and began to usher Lila out.

“Will I see more of you, Delilah Bard?” called the prince.

“Perhaps our paths will cross again.”

Rhy’s smile went crooked. “If I have any say in it, they will.”

Kell rolled his eyes but thought he caught Lila actually blushing as he guided her out and shut the door, leaving the prince to rest.

IV

“I could try and take you back,” Kell was saying. “To your London.”

He and Lila were walking along the river’s edge, past the evening market—where people’s eyes still hung too heavy and too long—and farther on toward the docks. The sun was sinking behind them, casting long shadows in front of them like paths.

Lila shook her head and pulled the silver watch from her pocket. “There’s nothing for me there,” she said, snapping the timepiece open and shut. “Not anymore.”

“You don’t belong here, either,” he said simply.

She shrugged. “I’ll find my way.” And then she tipped her chip up and looked him in the eyes. “Will you?”

The scar over his heart twinged dully, a ghost of pain, and he rubbed his shoulder. “I’ll try.” He dug a hand in the pocket of his coat—the black one with the silver buttons—and withdrew a small parcel. “I got you something.”

He handed it over and watched Lila undo the wrappings of the box, then slide the lid off. It fell open in her hand, revealing a small puzzle board and a handful of elements. “For practice,” he said. “Tieren says you’ve got some magic in you. Better find it.”

They paused on a bench, and he showed her how it worked, and she chided him for showing off, and then she put the box away and said thank you. It seemed to be a hard phrase for her to say, but she managed. They got to their feet, neither willing to walk away just yet, and Kell looked down at Delilah Bard, a cutthroat and a thief, a valiant partner and a strange, terrifying girl.

He would see her again. He knew he would. Magic bent the world. Pulled it into shape. There were fixed points. Most of the time those points were places. But sometimes, rarely, they were people. For someone who never stood still, Lila still felt like a pin in Kell’s world. One he was sure to snag on.

He didn’t know what to say, so he simply said, “Stay out of trouble.”