Page 132 of Jeweler to the Blessed
I was out of time. They wanted me to drain Macen. I didn’t think I could do it. Even as I lifted my foot to step toward him, my body shook in revulsion. I wasn’t sure that Macen deserved to live—but I knew I wasn’t meant to kill him.
They would kill Alaric if I didn’t.
Alaric, the man who’d taught me everything I knew.
Alaric, who wanted me to trust my gut more. I shook my head. My gut—my heart—knew this was wrong.
I couldn’t just leave him to die, though. A shaky step forward took me closer to Macen.
“You don’t have to do this?—”
Vaddon elbowed Alaric again, cutting off his words. This time, when Alaric stood, he smiled. I didn’t know what could make him do that. Following his gaze, my eyes locked on a familiar ring. A ring Hart had used to tap against the glass of Alaric’s workshop. The duplicate of the commission for R. Lourd. The ring Soren wore last night when he attacked. Theone Hart had pocketed. Did it hold any magic, or did he only use it to signal to Alaric that he was there?
Alaric’s grin broadened. He’d been looking for Hart.
How he thought Hart would get us all out of this mess, I wasn’t sure. Even with magic, Hart couldn’t get us all out of the throne room unscathed.
I took another step toward Macen.
Macen held both hands up in an attempt to halt my forward progress. “Emberline, your uncle is right. You don’t want to do this.”
I didn’t, but I didn’t have a choice. What was that line fromChampions of Kavios?He had no good choices, only the best, worst ones.I found myself identifying with the Cursed King as I took another step down the dais.
Alaric would forgive me for this. Of course he would.
Will you forgive yourself?My conscience gnawed at the back of my mind. It didn’t matter. Alaric would be alive, and that was what mattered.
I tilted my head from side to side, weighing the thought, as I took another step.
My plan had seemed so simple when I’d walked into the ceremony.
Become what I hate, in name only. Save Alaric.
Figure everything out after.
The plan fell apart when King Rodric announced the taking, and any remaining scraps blew away in the wind. I had refused to see it, but I needed a new plan—something that got us all out of here alive.
I was at the bottom of the dais now. Macen’s hands were still outstretched in a plea not to proceed. My jeweled hand reached for his. I knew I didn’t have to take from him to make this work. I just wasn’t sure how long the ruse would last. Hopefully long enough for me to get to Alaric.
“Ember—don’t!” Alaric threw himself forward as I took Macen’s hand.
My gaze bored into Macen’s, urging him, begging him to go along with this. The ring glowed red as I let my fury rise. I didn’t have to reach deep for the anger. It was brimming at the surface at the position I’d been put in. At the inevitability of it all.
Macen’s brow furrowed, his eyes focused on the red glow. His fear was as apparent as his confusion. I tilted my head slightly, my back to the king, Vaddon, and Alaric. I let my eyes drift closed as Macen stared into them. I hoped against hope he could figure out what I wanted of him.
His eyelids started to flutter, and my heart skipped a beat.
This might work.
He swayed back and forth as the red flash on my ring continued to draw the eyes of the crowd.
“Ember—” Alaric yelled again. “Stop! Before it’s too late.”
I couldn’t stop.
Finally, I chanced a glance toward Hart. It was unbearable to look at him, given what I knew he felt about the situation—but I hoped he understood my actions for what they were. His helmet was still in place, but the way his hand flexed, his head twisted slightly to the side—I knew he waited for the moment he was needed.
Not yet.
