All the Stars and Teeth(95)

I grind my heels into the dirt, fearful my knees may give out with all the turmoil roiling within me. Because on one hand, nothing Kaven says is wrong. The Montaras were never the brave leaders I believed they were. They were never meant to rule.

But that doesn’t mean that I have to be like them. And I’m sure as stars not going to stand by Kaven’s side while he enacts his vengeance.

“How would you do it?” I ask, keeping my voice soft. Making it waver. Because Kaven’s hungry for blood, and if he thinks I can help him get it, then he’ll tell me what I need to know.

“Your curse is in your blood,” he says, and there’s a furor in his eyes. “The knife was coated with it. And when your father visited us eleven years ago, I stabbed him and mixed his blood with our spring water so that Zudians would have traces of that magic within them. They need only to accept and practice it. That’s what I’ve been training them to do. If the curse isn’t contained to only one person—if all of Visidia has it—it’s possible we can break it. The curse would become too big to sustain itself. And once it’s broken, we can restore soul magic to what it should be.”

I think of Sira’s magic—so open and free—and I crave that feeling, again. I never knew magic could be like that.

“But we don’t have enough of the curse within us,” Kaven continues. “We need more of it. If we had more of your father’s blood, we could—”

“No.” I’ve heard enough of his plan. “There’s got to be a way that doesn’t involve hurting my family or spreading the curse to more people.”

Kaven’s face falls, hardening into something monstrous. “There isn’t.” The flat tone of his voice sends shudders down my spine. “What’s one life in exchange for helping your entire kingdom get the magic they deserve?”

The words are a strike to my chest. They’re the words I’ve believed in all my life—one life does not mean more than the safety of my kingdom. That’s what I always told myself when I was deep in Arida’s prisons, taking the lives I thought I had to.

And even now, knowing how wrong I was, I would not claim that Kaven’s statement is untrue. One life is not worth the lives of the kingdom, but there has to be another way.

I think of Bastian, a boy cursed at the age of ten after watching his parents killed. Of Zale, fighting for her people with everything she has. Of the countless others that Kaven has killed in his pursuit of soul magic.

My kingdom does deserve magic, just as I deserve to have mine feel the way it did in Sira’s curse. But Kaven’s methods will not be how we achieve that. I will find my own way.

“The future of Visidia isn’t yours to decide,” I snarl. “No harm will come to Visidia or my family.”

Ferrick’s hand is on my shoulder within a second, stilling me. “We know what he wants,” he whispers. “We know he’s still building an army. If we leave now, we have time to tell your parents and devise a plan.”

Kaven doesn’t miss his words. “You really should have taken my offer, Princess.” Each word hits like the strike of a blade. “Because I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not building an army; I have one. And you’re out of time.”





CHAPTER THIRTY


I look past Ferrick and Vataea, fighting to steady my trembling hands as dozens of figures emerge from the woods. Only when they get closer do I see that some wear vests and worn boots of deep amethyst—Kerost. Others wear magnificent sapphire blazers and the matching capes I’d recognize anywhere. The silver emblems of their capes shine through the rolling fog, winking at me mockingly.

My own royal soldiers.

I step back on trembling legs, not wanting to believe what I’m seeing. “What’s going on?” I ask, though deep down I already know. I don’t recognize any of the Kers, but familiar faces are among my own people.

Like Casem’s.

My guard’s eyes widen when he sees Ferrick and me. He stands at the edge of the woods beside Olin, his father—the man who taught us both how to wield a blade and protect ourselves. The man who stands at Father’s side daily, acting as Arida’s top adviser.

Though Olin’s never been the warmest man, his crystal eyes were never half as frigid, nor a quarter as dangerous as they are now. And never before has he sneered at me with such raw hatred.

“Zudoh isn’t the only island that’s tired of your father’s reign.” Kaven steps through the soldiers to stand before me, his chin proud. “Your father brought only the soldiers he trusted most when he came to destroy this island—his top advisers. But what he miscalculated is that not all of them agreed with him. He didn’t think to consider that some might like the idea of our magic being open for all, especially after they saw the power of our multiple magics in battle, and how the king could take down twenty people at once, just with strands of their hair or drops of their blood. Like myself, they want to be able to practice soul magic.”

He nods to Olin, and my heart drops. “Did you truly think everyone would stay content with the monarchy keeping that magic entirely for themselves? With robbing people of their freedom, and telling them which island they must live on just because of the magic they choose to practice? It’s time for things to change. The day my island burned was the day others realized that, too.”