Page 200 of The Stolen Throne
Eidolon has them both.
The clash of weapons and bodies and fighting blocks my way, but I keep going. Bindings made of shadow hold my sister upright, her arms now stretched outward from her sides, her head dropped back as though she can’t keep it up, but her eyes are open. Reven, I realize, is in the same posture. Eidolon raises a glowing fist, and with a wrench of his hand, darkness streaks out of Reven’s mouth, like the king is pulling his entrails up from inside, forming into a small cloud in front of him.
Failed. We just failed everything. He’s got his Shadows back.
I stumble over a body on the ground and almost fall. I manage to keep my feet and keep going, even as I’m staring hard at what Eidolon is doing. That isn’t many of his Shadows…it’s one. Realization is a slap to the face. I think he drew out the ghost of the past, the one Reven sucked out of Tabra. Why? What does he need with—
Eidolon takes it and shoves it down my sister’s throat.
Rage and terror collide inside me. “Take me to him!”
In a blink, I am across the courtyard, the shadows dissipating from me like mist.
Holy hells. It worked.
I end up behind Eidolon, so close, standing in the alcove of a small doorway to the main palace. I don’t think he felt or saw me. I don’t think he knows I’m here.
Tabra’s face…goddess help me, that’s not her face. Not my face.
Eidolon’s ghost is in her. Again? Or did Reven not get it out?
“I didn’t tell you to kill her,” Eidolon growls at the thing inside my sister. “We need her.”
“And I needed to make sure you honor our deal,” Tabra says in a voice that is also not hers. It oozes from her. Then she smiles, lips a sinister twist. “She dies without me in her.”
The king’s face flickers with frustration only a beat before his shoulders ease. “It no longer matters,” Eidolon mutters to himself before eyeing Tabra, or the ghost of his previous incarnation inhabiting her body. “As long as, through you, I can control her power.” Eidolon raises glowing hands again.
I lurch forward, but Reven’s voice sounds in my head. “Wait.”
Our bond comes to brilliant life between us, and that alone makes me pause. Wait for what?
“I will only help if you keep your promise,” the ghost inside Tabra says. “A body for me.”
The king cocks his head. “You are still made of shadow, my old friend. You have no choice.”
The parasite gives a mangled choking sound, and Tabra’s body goes rigid. Then, impossibly, her hands rise, palms glowing a lavender hue.
Vos might as well have been here to freeze my blood solid all the way to my heart. She’s been too weak to use her power. Treading death’s waters. He can’t—
Eidolon reaches inside his tunic and pulls his own amulet from around his neck to dangle it between them. My sister’s light moves out from her hands like it’s an extension of her, reaching toward the necklace until it surrounds the amulet.
“Release Tyndra from her prison,” Eidolon commands.
Seven hells in a handbasket. We were right. That’s what he needed my sister for. That’s what all of this—every step he’s taken, every shadow shed, every Arydian queen he’s killed—has been about all along.
The darkness holding my sister upright squeezes her tighter, coiling and writhing, and the sounds coming from her throat change to pained groans as her light glows brighter.
I have to help her.
“Not yet.” Reven’s voice stops me.
I jerk my gaze his direction to find him still bound but watching me. I give him what I know is a look of desperation. “He’s killing her.”
“Wait.” What does he see that I don’t?
I don’t ask. Because I trust him. My bondmate wouldn’t tell me to wait for no reason.
“Come on,” Eidolon mutters in a voice that now quakes. Is he straining with the effort he’s expending by trying to force two powers to operate in tandem?
