I hoped so. Kestra had been betrayed enough for a thousand lifetimes.
Then Loelle walked forward, the crowd parting for her until she stood before me and Kestra. She looked as empty as I had felt after the death of my mother, but with a pleading in her eyes that bored straight into my heart. With clear respect and humility, she nodded first at Kestra, then at me. “Give me one more chance with Joth. If anyone can reach him, I can.”
I shook my head. “You’ve tried, Loelle. And he will be more volatile once he begins to absorb the magic within the Olden Blade. I won’t risk your safety.”
“Your mother gave her life for you. Would I do less for the hope of saving my son?” I didn’t answer right away, and she said, “That is the plan, correct? To kill him?”
I glanced over at Kestra and was about to respond, when Darrow stepped forward. “I’ll go with her. I’ve been a half-life before, and he knows me.”
“That won’t matter to him,” Kestra said. “I’ve been exactly where he is now, and I know what is happening in his mind. His every instinct will be to protect his power. He won’t care that you were a half-life; he won’t even care for his own mother if she threatens his power. He won’t see any difference between you coming to him with open arms and me coming at him with a disk bow in my arms.”
Loelle huffed and was about to reply, when a cry came from the far corner of the room. I couldn’t see who it was or what had happened, but heard a body fall to the floor, then two words emerge from the screams around him: “He’s dead!”
Kestra and I locked eyes. Horror filled me as I understood what she had not spoken. That had to have been Joth’s work, and he would have done it for only one reason: to warn us to back down.
I leaned toward her and whispered, “How was Joth able to do that?”
She began scanning the room. “He must have half-lives here. They’re here, Simon.”
“I am going to him!” Loelle said. “Give me one hour, and if I do not return, then you may do whatever you must do.”
Darrow frowned at Kestra. “I cannot let her go alone.” He finished with a glare at me. “See that nothing happens to my daughter.”
He asked for a promise I would give my own life to keep, but before I reached for Kestra’s hand, she was already following her father, still protesting his going.
Loelle opened the ballroom door, then drew back, seeing Amala Fingray standing there, the young cavalry woman who had briefly been my commander a few nights ago. I hadn’t noticed she was missing from our meeting earlier.
But something was different about her now. She stood stiffly at attention, except for one hand pressed against her chest and pain evident in her eyes.
Joth had made her an Ironheart and taken her for a servant.
Amala focused on Kestra, clearly resisting every word she was being forced to speak, and gritting her teeth against the pain it caused her to fight. “My master has the Olden Blade, ensuring him immortality and all powers once belonging to Lord Endrick. Surrender now, or every person in this room will die.”
Kestra looked over to me, and my mind raced for an answer. Joth had proven he was capable of killing remotely, and that he was willing to do it. He might target anyone without notice, and we had no way to save ourselves.
Blinking hard, Amala’s attention shifted to me. “Will you surrender?”
“Allow me to send a delegation to your master for formal negotiations,” I said.
“Send Kestra Dallisor,” Amala said. “The king of Antora has unfinished business with her.”
“No, Amala.” I stepped forward. “He has unfinished business with me.”
Amala shook her head, like a warning that I had gone too far, and indeed, immediately a slight wind brushed over me, bringing a pinch to my chest, fierce enough that I collapsed to my knees. Several others in the room did the same, including Trina and Huge and Gabe.
“I’ll go with you!” Kestra cried. “But your king must stop this!”
The pressure on my chest lightened, though it was still there. At least I could breathe again.
Kestra glanced over at me and sadly shook her head, then said, “I will bring with me Darrow and your master’s mother.”
“Agreed.”
They started out the door, but at the last moment, Harlyn ran forward. “I’ll come as far as the throne room door, to ensure you all get there safely.”
Amala stared at her a moment, then said, “That pleases the king.”
Harlyn followed them out of the room, gripping her hands together with worry, and for good reason. Why would Joth be pleased that Harlyn was coming?
In less than a minute, Joth had dismantled all our plans for an attack against him. I was now forced to go forward with an army of four. My companions included a father who would sacrifice our mission before putting me at risk, a mother who would not under any circumstances harm her own son. And our fourth member, who for all I knew might still consider my death her prime mission.
I gave Simon a final glance before rushing out the door. He remained on his knees clutching his chest, a stark reminder of how a single misstep might cost me everything. I’d made so many mistakes already. I hoped this wasn’t another.
Amala led me out of Woodcourt, with Harlyn and Loelle following and Darrow behind them. Outside, a wagon was already hitched to horses to carry us to Woodcourt. We climbed into the back, and Amala went up front to drive us the short distance to the palace.
As we rode, the four of us exchanged looks, but none of us dared speak. We all knew it was possible that half-lives were listening or watching. But with an air of nonchalance, Harlyn shifted positions to sit by me. She opened her disk pouch, showing me several disks inside, then gestured for me to give her my satchel.
I understood her intentions. I had only one disk and she wanted to be sure I was well armed to attack Joth. She must not have fully realized that the black disk I carried was the only one of any consequence. Nothing else would win this war, and to be sure, this was war.
Still, I could not communicate that to Harlyn, so when she persisted, I gave her my satchel. No matter how many disks she added to my bag, my black one would be easily identifiable by the markings created upon it when it absorbed the magic.
Harlyn looked more closely at my disk and then suddenly closed up the satchel, holding the ends tight with her fists. I locked eyes with her in understanding and then nodded in agreement with her unspoken plan.
While Harlyn worked, Darrow caught my attention, motioning toward his disk bow. Did I want it?
I shook my head. My intentions would be far too obvious if I walked into the throne room thus armed. But I would need it eventually. Darrow would have to find a way to get it to me once we were in the throne room.
Loelle had quietly observed everything that was happening between us, and I was relieved that she had not said anything to Amala or called attention to our actions. But there were tears in her eyes, and I ached for how she must have felt, knowing what would happen once we entered the throne room.
Except that just as before, my plans were thwarted. Once we arrived and Amala led us inside the palace, she said, “The king wishes to see Lady Kestra alone.”
“I am her protector,” Darrow said. “Where she goes, I go.”