“You have an uncanny knack of living through everything I throw at you,” Daros says. “Until now.”
My heart is thrumming in my ears so loud I can barely hear him. “Leave Inkga out of this. She’s done nothing to you.”
“And give up my advantage? I don’t think so.”
In the corner, Wilric goes to pull out his sword, but Daros shoves the dagger farther against Inkga’s neck. I hold out a hand to stop him. “We can’t let Inkga get hurt.”
Daros grins, the long hair appearing wrong against the thin face that doesn’t match him or his body. With his free hand, he shakes off the wig, revealing thinning brown hair. His rounded body looks incongruous with the rest of him, as does the well-rounded bosom I know isn’t his.
“What do you want from me?” I ask to distract him so I can think of a plan.
“I want you dead.”
So he can put someone else on the throne and control them, something he’ll never be able to do with me again, even if it means giving up Inkga’s life. I work hard not to gaze into her eyes. To ignore the fear and pain in them. To ignore that same fear and pain in me.
“Even if you kill me, there will be others who stand in your way,” I say.
“I haven’t come all this way to lose. Hold out your hand.”
I hold my head high. “Why should I?”
“Because if you don’t, I’m going to kill your little friend here.”
I try to think of something that will buy me time and give me a way to save her, but all I can think of is obeying—for now. I won’t let him win this.
I hold out my hand. “There. Happy?”
He grins. “Quite.” With movements like a snake, he darts out and stabs my palm with the hand not holding a dagger on Inkga.
“What was that?” I barely feel the pinprick.
“Your downfall.”
Before he can say anything else, the door opens. Jem rushes in the room and halts when she sees the scene. But it’s enough.
Daros glances her way, and I slam my hand across his wrist, knocking the dagger out of his hand while at the same time pulling Inkga toward me. I shove her behind me, and Wilric is there with his sword.
Daros blocks Wilric with his dagger and pulls out a sword from his voluminous robes. Jem backs into a corner, calling for more guards, and pulls a dagger from her skirt. They pour in the room, Nash with them, but before they can get to us, Daros stabs Wilric.
Wilric puts a hand to his stomach, where the wound is bleeding. His face is going pale. I put my dagger to Daros’s neck as Wilric falls to the ground. The guards point their blades at Daros, and Jem runs to Wilric, Nash right behind her.
Nash calls out, “Are you all right, Ryn?”
“Fine. How’s Wilric?”
Nash kneels on the ground next to Wilric and looks him over. He doesn’t have to say anything; I can read it in his eyes. The wound is fatal, even if Wilric is still grasping onto life.
I press the tip of my weapon into Daros’s neck, ready to make the killing blow.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Daros’s voice is calm. Certain.
I hesitate. It’s probably another trick to keep him alive. But there’s nothing he could do with so many guards around him. “Take his sword and dagger.”
Two guards grab them. I expect him to put up a fight, but he just stands there. I move so I see his face. See what he’s thinking. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Two reasons I think you’ll find very interesting.”
I press my blade harder against his neck. “And they are?”
He smirks and takes his time answering. “One—because I poisoned you.”