Frostblood (Frostblood Saga #1)(83)

“Let her go,” said Arcus in a calm tone at odds with the fury in his eyes. He levered himself away from the wall and came forward. “And we can talk like brothers.”

“Isn’t she pretty there, all trussed up in ice?” Rasmus said with amusement. “Perhaps I’ll keep her as a statue in my courtyard. Fire trapped in ice. An elegant metaphor, don’t you think?”

“The throne controls you,” said Arcus, his voice low and even, moving forward slowly.

Rasmus breathed a laugh. “The throne is my ally.”

Arcus stopped a few feet away, his eyes moving over me, perhaps looking for blood or signs that I was hurt. A look of relief passed over his face when he didn’t find any.

“I’m not your enemy, Raz. We can find a way to free you from the curse.”

Rasmus bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Fors and Eurus are brothers, too. Eurus made the throne stronger as a gift.”

“He poisoned it out of jealousy,” said Arcus.

“You were scared of your own throne. Is that why you didn’t come back until now?”

“You hired someone to kill me! Forgive me for not being eager to return.”

Rasmus shook his head. “Not me. I was barely more than a child.”

Arcus blinked several times. “You’re saying you didn’t send the assassin. I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Believe what you wish. I don’t need you.” Rasmus turned to me and spoke with feverish emphasis. “And I don’t need her.”

Ice crept up my chin and coated my lips, cutting off my air. I struggled in blind panic. After a few seconds, my heated breath melted the ice around my mouth. I took in gulps of air and watched the brothers face each other.

“Let her go, Raz,” Arcus said, his voice stern. He had an air of command, of an older brother and a king. “We can make peace now, but if you kill her, you’re as good as dead.”

“All I have to do is raise a finger and I can stop her heart,” said Rasmus softly. “Just one breath. A thought, even. You won’t even know I’ve done it until it’s too late. Another lying Fireblood whom no one will miss.”

I focused on my heart, willing the heat to come forward, to melt the ice around me. Barely a flicker answered, not even a tendril of flame.

“I will miss her.” Arcus’s voice was harsh, threatening, but it held a desperate undercurrent.

“I missed you,” said Rasmus. “For a while.”

“You said you never wanted the throne. Together we can destroy it. You can rule at my side, at my right hand.”

“I rule now,” Rasmus said, raising his voice.

Arcus took a breath. “I admit I was proud. And in my pride, I refused to believe in the curse. I watched Father grow paranoid and cruel, but I blamed the wars, the pressures of ruling. When I took the throne, I fought the knowledge that I was being changed, corrupted—”

“Perfected,” Rasmus bit out. “Strengthened. If you had only accepted it, the limits would have fallen away and you would have become so much more than you imagined.”

Arcus shook his head. “You’ve lost yourself. The thing in there”—he gestured to the throne—“has eaten you up from the inside.”

“The only thing my throne feeds on are the spirits of traitors and Firebloods.” He waved a hand, and the ice pressed tighter until I cried out. Arcus’s eyes widened, his face paling.

“Keep the throne,” Arcus breathed. “I’ll take her far away, across the ocean. I’ll forfeit my title, denounce my claim. Whatever you ask. As long as you let me take her.”

No. I tried to shake my head, but ice held my neck fast. I wanted to shout at Arcus, to scream that he couldn’t make such an offer. If there was one thing I knew about him, it was that he was steadfast in his loyalties. It would kill him to abandon his people.

“You might come back,” said Rasmus. “You have too many supporters who could rise against me. Assassinate me.”

“I never wanted you dead. I only wanted our kingdom to be what it once was. For you to stop the wars, start helping people again. But I will let that all go.”

Rasmus shook his head. “I don’t trust you.”

A silence. “Then kill me if you must. But let her go first. I will let you kill me when I see her safely leave your city.”

No, no, no.

I went wild inside. I opened my mouth, but only a squeak emerged from my frozen throat. My lungs bursting, my mind flailed with the effort of making my limbs move, to smash out of the bonds of ice. It was like being buried under a mountain, every muscle straining in vain.

“You would die…” He looked down at me, then back at his brother. “For her?”

“Yes. I would,” said Arcus firmly. “That is the bargain.”

No, I couldn’t let him do that.

Indecision hung in the air, as palpable as a dense fog. Shadows played against the walls. Something whispered from the throne, a sibilant, barely detectable hiss.

Rasmus smiled, the expression so cold it was like seeing a corpse grin. “You have only made me want to kill her more.” He turned back to me, meeting my eyes. “You are nothing.”

The ice slipped from outside my body to the inside. A scream froze in my throat as pain bit into my chest, worse than a sword thrust, icy where I was hot, but unmelting. Slicing into me, driving, relentless, inescapable.