One by one, she would be forced to watch everyone she loved suffer and die until she gave Navok and Galdric what they wanted. She would never survive the guilt, the heartache. But she also knew that if she did obey, if she used the Hand to give them magic, if she chose the people she cared about over the entire kingdom, the entire continent . . . nothing would be able to stop them.
And that would be her fault.
“It’s all right, Kiva,” Ariana said, barely a whisper. “Sarana knew this might happen one day. Everything will be all right.”
Kiva only shook her head miserably, because Ariana was wrong — nothing about this was “all right.” But when she turned to the queen, expecting to see a reflection of her own dismay, all she found was an unnatural calm in Ariana’s eyes, almost like the queen was trying to send her a message, but Kiva couldn’t understand what that message was.
With their gazes still locked, Ariana pulled the Signet off her finger and held it out.
Kiva stared at it like it was a snake.
“Take it,” Galdric ordered, stepping closer.
Navok remained where he was, his hold on Tipp unyielding, his anomaly guards close at his sides.
Kiva didn’t take the ring.
Couldn’t take the ring.
But then Tipp cried out again, and the cut on his neck grew deeper, blood now dribbling slowly down his collar.
Kiva snatched up the ring.
“Wait, it needs her magic first,” Galdric remembered. To Ariana, he said, “You know what to do. But don’t think of trying anything else. Just the ring.”
The queen nodded and reached out to touch the band. There was no large gem like the others in Kiva’s palm; instead, the gold was stamped with the Vallentis crest — the identifying mark of the Royal Signet — and embedded with tiny blue sapphires that Kiva had never noticed before, all of which came alight with Ariana’s magic before they faded once more. The whole time, the queen continued to hold Kiva’s gaze, speaking to her without words.
But Kiva still didn’t know what she was saying.
Until Ariana’s gaze shifted, for the briefest of seconds. Barely a flicker of movement, not enough for anyone else to see, but enough for Kiva’s own eyes to widen.
Sarana knew this might happen one day.
Thoughts and memories and questions slammed into Kiva, Ariana’s words holding new meaning now, even if she hardly dared to believe, hardly dared to hope.
“You know what to do, Kiva,” Galdric said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Put the rings on and push your magic into them — and then into me. That’s all it will take. As easy as breathing.”
Right now, Kiva was struggling to breathe at all, so his statement meant little. But she continued holding Ariana’s steady eyes, her reassurance strong and unyielding, causing Kiva’s confidence to grow even as her heart thundered behind her rib cage.
“If you don’t put those rings on in three seconds,” Navok drawled, “I’m going to need a new hostage.”
Kiva’s pulse skipped, and at Ariana’s quick nod, she put the rings on.
Ruby. Topaz. Emerald. Sapphire.
The Hand of the Gods.
“Incredible,” Galdric breathed, staring at her fingers.
He reached for her, and she recoiled, but he didn’t let her escape, taking her wrist and pressing her palm to his chest.
“Do it,” Galdric ordered.
Kiva resisted.
“Do it, or the boy dies,” Navok threatened.
But it was only when Ariana whispered, “Do it, darling,” that Kiva listened.
Praying she had read the queen right, that her own questions and suspicions from the last few weeks held merit, Kiva sucked in a breath — and summoned her magic.
The moment the golden light appeared in her hand, the rings came to life, the healing glow shining fiercely through them, creating a kaleidoscope of color — red, white, green, and blue. It was so bright that it lit the whole room, a rainbow blaze that Kiva had to shield her eyes from. Her fingers burned, the pain surprising and alarming. She would have yanked her arm back, if not for Galdric holding her palm forcibly against his chest, refusing to let her go.
And then it stopped.
The pain vanished, the colors disappeared, and Kiva carefully released her magic, the glow fading once more.
“Did it work?” Navok demanded.
“I — I don’t know,” Galdric said, his brow furrowing.
“Shouldn’t you feel it?” the Mirraven king asked. “Try summoning something. Fire, air, water, earth. Do something.”
But when Galdric concentrated, nothing happened.
He turned furious eyes on Kiva. “What did you do?”
“Exactly what you asked,” she said, her fear ratcheting up again at the murderous look on his face.
“You’re lying. You must have —” He broke off suddenly to glare at Queen Ariana. “You,” he spat. “You know something. Sarana was your ancestor — tell me how to make it work.”
Ariana looked terrified now — on the outside.
But Kiva could see the triumphant light in the queen’s eyes, something only visible because she was looking for it.
“Answer him,” Navok said, “or I’ll have my anomalies turn your children to dust.”
Ariana blanched, her expression making Kiva worry for a moment that she might have misread the queen earlier. But that same light was still in her eyes, the only reassurance Kiva had.
“You have to put the rings on,” Ariana told Galdric, her voice almost too shaky. “They needed to be imbued with both Vallentis and Corentine magic, but you have to physically wear them in order for her healing power to transfer the elemental power into you. That’s how the Hand works — you have to be the one wielding it.”
Galdric’s zealous eyes returned to Kiva. “Give them to me.”
Kiva did so, praying, once again, that the queen knew what she was doing.
One, two, three, four, Galdric placed all the rings on his fingers, staring down at his hand before looking back at Ariana. “Now what?”
The queen immediately stopped shaking, her lips tipping up into a sharp, deadly smile as she said, almost sweetly, “Now you get to meet Sarana and Torvin.”
Galdric frowned and opened his mouth —
But the only thing that came out was a scream.
The rings had caught fire, the flames blazing up his arm to cover his entire body.
It lasted all of five seconds, the ancient magic powerful and near-instant, before both Galdric and the rings were nothing but ash.
Kiva stood there, staring down at the pile of gray on the carpet, certain she was going to vomit.
But she didn’t have time, because Navok roared, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”
And then all hell broke loose, since Flox decided that was the moment he was going to protect his charges, the silverbear leaping forward to sink his teeth into Navok’s leg.
The Mirraven king yelped and automatically used his dagger to swipe at the creature — but in doing so, Tipp became free.
Which was what Ariana had been waiting for.
“NOW!” the queen yelled, and suddenly, water, wind, and earth were erupting in the room, with her own magic along with Mirryn’s and Oriel’s shooting straight for the anomalies.
Kiva acted instinctively, using the chaos to lunge forward and grab Tipp, hauling him backwards to duck behind the crystalline piano. From there, she peered out to see the anomalies returning fire on the Vallentis royals, ice spearing through the air, marble falling from the ceiling, wind tearing through the room. Xuru was throwing his flames with abandon, causing the carpet and couches to catch alight, the smoke cloying even after Ariana’s water snuffed the blazes out.