She held the artifact aloft, a death offering. A spherical cloud of darkness flowed from it.
Yes, the artifact seemed to say, as if waking in triumph after a long nap.NowI’m listening. But where once the black stone had stoked a fiery rage in her, now it seemed to freeze her from within. Her cold hatred was amplified, encouraged, absorbed, and reflected twice over by the artifact.
And like swathes of deadly smoke, its darkness inched ever outward, toward herself and Lord D’Luc and his staring Children. As if she were white-hot, Hugon dropped his hands and moved away from her. Before Ranto could get to her she spun, putting the table between them, the artifact held out before her like a warning.
Lord D’Luc held out an arm to stop Ranto, and his gaze was wild, terrified, broken.
“Put it down, Delara,” he breathed, chest heaving. A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead.
Somewhere far-off, as if a voice were speaking to her through the haze of a dream, Ru’s bewildered thoughts echoed in her mind:This is my choice. The artifact obeys me. I’m the Destroyer.
“Make me do it again,” she repeated aloud, advancing on Hugon. Her voice splintered like shards of ice. Darkness spread outward from her like ripples in an umbral pool. “I dare you.Make me do it again, and I’ll kill you. I don’t care who else dies, D’Luc, as long as you’re among them.”
“Put her down,” came Lord D’Luc’s cold words, and the last thing Ru saw was Ranto, descending on her.
Ru later learned that she’d lost consciousness on her own. Ranto had not needed to touch her. According to Lyr’s stilted explanation, with details he could only have learned from Lord D’Luc himself, Ru had been blind for an hour afterward, and a fever took her briefly. She was allowed to rest for three days, during which time she saw neither Hugon D’Luc nor any of the Children.
After that, Lord D’Luc no longer asked her to demonstrate, and their breakfasts resumed as normal.
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 4
In her dream, Ru was alone in a windswept crater of black earth. And in her hands, resting in upturned palms, was the artifact. Its smooth, black surface caught the moonlight and reflected it in rivulets of energy that swirled around her until she was engulfed by sweeps of light.
And then, out of the darkness, came Fen.
He was as she remembered him that day he’d found her in the Shattered City, alone, clutching the artifact. His eyes were clear and honest, black hair blown across a stubbled face, and his smile caught Ru by the heart.
In the dream, he kissed her, touched her with hot and roving hands, made her breath catch in her throat. He drove her almost mad, pushed her to the brink of desire with his lips on hers, on her neck, everywhere that elicited a gasp. Anywhere that made her want him.
And shewantedhim. Desperately, longingly, body and soul. She was feverishly happy in that dark, windswept crater. She had Fen. He had her. And they held his heart between them…
Until he pulled away, slowly as a glacier. And the moment she was every bit under his control, would have doneanythingfor him, she caught his gaze, and he was no longer there. In his place stood Taryel. His eyes were like onyx, the artifact reflected in his eyes until there were no whites; fully black and staring, his smile turned to ice.
“What do you want?” Taryel asked. It was the same every night.
And Ru always answered: “I want you to take Fen’s cursed heart away from me. I want toforget him.”
Instead of indulging her, ridding her of the stone’s incessant weight, the Destroyer smiled. He moved further and further away from her. “But it’s yours,” he said.
And then he left, and Ru woke in bed, drenched in sweat.
A heavy darkness still clung to the shadows of her room. Checking the clock over the mantle, she saw it was a little past two in the morning. Then she heard it — the sound that must have woken her, a light tapping at the door.
Apprehensive, Ru opened the door to find herself face-to-face with Lyr. He held out a rolled-up piece of parchment.
“Letter,” he said.
Ru blinked, her eyes still bleary with sleep. “At two in the morning?”
Lyr shrugged.
She said, “It’s addressed to you.” She peered down at the paper, trying to make sense of things. The dream still weighed heavy on her mind.
“For you, though,” said Lyr. “Look.”
At last, Ru saw the small initials written in delicate black ink next to the palace’s official seal: S.D. A rush of warm relief flooded her chest as she ushered Lyr inside, closing the door behind him. Simon had written, at last.
