Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(52)

I took a small breath. The smell of urine and blood was, if possible, less potent than before. But then again, there hadn’t been a prisoner in the dungeon since Derrick died.

He didn’t die.

Derrick was murdered.

The stench might be less prevalent, but the crime was still there.

I lifted my head and looked the tyrant in the eye. “You want an answer?” I spat the words in his face. “Bring him back.”

Blayne’s smile twisted. “Your little brother or mine?”

My fingers scraped at stone.

Blayne watched my face, missing nothing. He knew the only reason he wasn’t dead was the long line of Combat mages behind him. With Mira at its head.

Darren had watched them take me away. I hadn’t even had a moment to explain before the guards charged, knocking me to the floor and binding my hands and legs. I’d choked, gasping for air, trying to call out to him as they dragged me away.

I hadn’t fought. I should have—I would have lost—but I couldn’t. Not until I had a chance to explain.

“You know,” he said, “I think you broke my little brother’s heart.”

I’d seen it. That moment Darren found the map. I’d taken that broken boy on the cliffs and walked away.

“The both of us are too intelligent to pretend we don’t already know your role.” Blayne cleared his throat expectantly. “You are a rebel.”

I didn’t bother to deny it; there was no point.

“A lowborn Combat mage, who’s half-drunk on power and ready to avenge her little brother’s death.” His tone was dry. “I’m surprised I didn’t see it sooner.”

Silence.

“The problem,” he said, “is that you love my brother. So whatever he might claim, I don’t believe Pythus promised you a crown. I don’t believe you would take it.”

My whole body stiffened.

“Were my brother a different sort of man, I’d expect you were trying to make him king.” Blayne’s bark of laughter hurt my ears. “Seeing the look on his face in the Throne Room, I hardly believe that’s the case.”

There was a sobering pause. “So what was it, Ryiah? What convinced you to betray the man you love? Was it revenge, or was there something else?”

I met the king’s stare.

“You still care.” His snort was incredulous. “That’s why you want him here. To explain yourself.” Blayne paused. “You give me a satisfactory answer, and I will bring Darren back in.”

“Give us five minutes alone.”

The king broke out into a smile. I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to ignore the sudden chill.

“Ryiah, Ryiah.” Blayne said my name with a sigh. “You tell me your reasons, you tell me where the others are, you tell me every silly little plan… and I might let you live.”

“So kill me then.” I was taking a risk, but if Blayne remembered my brother—and I knew that he did—he would know Derrick hadn’t admitted to a thing. He’d been willing to die, planned on it.

Blayne’s eyes flashed in the dark. There was no true light in the dungeons, just a couple of rusting sconces and dripping wax. But I could still see the growing flush on his neck, the way his fists clenched at his sides.

There was another moment of silence. Then: “Mira!” Blayne snarled the words. “Go fetch my brother!”

“But—”

“Tell him he doesn’t have a choice!”

There was a rush of movement and the slam of a door.

The king turned back to me. “I know what you are planning.”

I held my breath.

“Your little brother tried to do the same thing with my men. He thought he could somehow convert them to your little rebel cause, but look behind me.” The king held out his hand, and my eyes inevitably shot to the mages at his back. “They weren’t fools, and Darren isn’t either. You try something like that and, well…” Blayne’s expression turned cruel. “…he might just do me the favor of taking your life. He didn’t for your brother, of course, but with you, he might take exception. I certainly would.”

Don’t let him get to you.

The next ten minutes were the longest of my life.

When the angry voices finally raised outside the hall, I instantly rose to my feet.

There was a terrible screech as two bars of metal slid into place, and then the door swung open, revealing a beaming Mira, the two guards from the outside, and Darren.

The prince didn’t even look at me; he just marched straight to his brother.

“I’m not doing this.” His voice was flat. “You have overstepped—”

“Brother.” The king’s reply was clipped. “This is not about your wounded little heart. You don’t even have to talk to her. You just need to stand there and look pretty so she’ll cooperate.”

My whole body trembled as Darren’s gaze landed on me, his eyes indifferent and cold.

“She’s going to tell us everything,” the king said.

“Is she?” Darren’s reply was like a mouthful of glass. He was talking to his brother, but he was looking at me.

I told myself nothing could hurt me, but his eyes were tearing holes in my lungs.