Page 86 of Vicious Is My Throne

Like my very soul was yielding to that throbbing power, but if I told Raziel that, he’d most likely snatch these stones away from me and shuck them into a deep ravine.

The Oracle said we could never go back home, but it had never occurred to me that we might have brought a piece of our world here with us. Suffused with the magic from which we’d been born. There had to be a message here I was missing, some kind of clue, something we could use against Gelvira and Corvus…unless they, too, each possessed one of the stones.

Tavion was watching us keenly from the other side of the room. Tristan was asleep, slumped in front of the fire, firelight dancing across his face as he dozed.

“Where did you see the other keystone?” I murmured quietly. “Who had it?”

“The Shadow King. A hundred years ago. I’d forgotten all about it until now, but that bastard was like a fucking dragon; he hoarded everything. Chances are the thing is hidden somewhere in the Keep.”

“What do you think would happen”—I swallowed, my mouth dry—“if we each had one of these?”

Raz didn’t even stop to think. “We could rip this world to shreds.”

36

ZORANDER

I’d never felt as alone as I did that night in our bed, my back itching like mad as my seared skin healed, automatically tensing every time I replayed Zephryn’s fire spilling over me like lava.

Even after two baths, I still smelled the ashy scent of his blazing breath coating the inside of my nose so permanently I’d never get the reek out.

My hair was cropped shorter than I’d ever had it, shorn to the scalp, the healers assuring me the bald patches in the back would eventually fill back in. I wasn’t overly vain, but gods, I looked like shite.

Still, we were lucky to be alive, Cosimo and me.

Every few minutes I glanced to where the pendant winked in the firelight like a wyvern’s eye on the bedside table, taunting me.

I had one piece of the weapon, but I was stuck. Every hour or so I rose, tried to ghost myself—only to the other side of the room—but my magic just…fizzled. Two days, maybe, before I could go to Anaria.

Before I’d know if she was safe. Or…

I dragged my hands down my face.

I was experienced enough to know if I dwelled on the what-ifs, they’d eat me alive, but I couldn’t help myself. The not knowing was killing me. All I could hope for was the others had rallied and protected her.

She was, like Coz pointed out, smart enough not to face the Oracle alone.

The healers told us we were fortunate to have survived, but I didn’t feel fortunate. I felt trapped, fear cannibalizing my mind every moment I was stuck here.

I needed to get out of this room.

Picking up the pendant, I ran my finger over the engraving, the glinting red stone.

But I couldn’t see how the thing attached to anything. There were no posts or threads where the amulet fit into the end of the pommel. But the illustration showed they were a pair, so I had to be missing something. I punched the pillow, the healing skin on my back pulling tight.

Finally, I gave up altogether, put the pendant in my pocket, and headed downstairs.

It wasn’t yet dawn, but if I couldn’t sleep, then I might as well make myself useful.

Torin looked up sharply when I entered the war room, her white eyes sharp as they skated over me, lips clamped tight. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

“I feel like it,” I admitted. “But the trip wasn’t without worth.” I pulled the pendant out before pocketing it again.

“You two idiots…” She straightened, hands clenched at her sides. “Do you have any idea how foolish that was? How many things could have gone wrong?”

I shrugged. “I think enough went wrong without me thinking up more ways the trip could have been even worse.”

She narrowed her eyes and I braced myself. “The fire could have melted the device, and you could have gotten stuck there, caught in an endless loop neither of you would have escaped from. You could have died…” She lowered her head, her voice shaking. “You could have died back then, and no one would have ever known what happened to either of you. Not until someone went digging through the rubble and found your broken, charred bodies.”

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