Page 211 of The Witch Queen

“We have to try!”

I grit my teeth and yank as hard as I can, finally wresting the crown from Sindony’s grasp. My heart hammers in my chest, searching wildly for something to smash the stones or—the glow of the pyre catches my attention.

That place on my palmburns.

It must be undone,my sister’s words float back to me.

And I know at once what I must do: destroy the crown the same way it was forged—by throwing it into the flames.

“Don’t!” Sindony screams, still grappling for the crown.

Other witches barrel toward me. Shadow creatures as well. I ignore them all, sprinting across the courtyard and hurling the crown into the blaze.

Sparks erupt as the Bloodstones are swallowed by flame. I brace myself for a reaction, like on the night I broke the Veil. A crack as the world splits. It doesn’t come. But why not? If this was the way to restore the balance of power, then…

Comprehension oozes down my spine. I was wrong.

Behind me, Sindony lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Blodwyn

Crows shriek above our heads. Witches wilt mid-battle and claw at their chests, as if their very hearts are about to burst. The shadow creatures cheer, their crimson eyes feral.

“What’s happened?” I call to Ayleth above the tumult. “You said that would work!”

But she just stands there, horror-struck as she watches the scene unfold.

“I told you!” Sindony shouts, her expression twisted in pain. “You’re killing the magic! Killingus!”

Several witches are already scattered, lifeless, on the ground. But there’s no hope of retrieving the crown. It’s buried too deeply in the pyre. Another spear of lightning pummels the palace. We duck as part of an upper-story balcony crashes into the courtyard. Panic rings, high and tinny in my ears. We have to do something. Have to—

Heat sears through my hand.

I turn my palm up. The three crossed lines I carved in Millicent’s tower areglowing.My brow furrows. The same thing occurred in the throne room when Papa was trying to convince me to take Ayleth’s heart.

Past, present, and future,Millicent’s faraway voice echoes in my mind.A promise.

An idea begins to form, one that seems completely impossible. But it might be the only chance we have.

“Ayleth,” I say, shaking her out of her stupor. “Look. What about this?”

I show her my palm. She blinks at it, then glances at her own mark. The three lines are blazing with light, just like mine.

Her brow furrows. “What does this mean?”

“Millicent said this mark was a promise,” I tell her. “One to honor magic in all its forms. You drew it, too. Maybe that’s what brought me back from the poison—both of us making that vow together. Perhaps it can help us now.”

“Honor magic,” Ayleth repeats in a murmur, tracing the triangle on her own palm.

Another bolt of lightning splits the sky and more of the palace collapses.

“I have an idea,” Ayleth says, standing up straighter. “Get everyone to the fire—as many as possible.”

There’s no time for questions. I motion to Verity and Gavin, who immediately veer in our direction. Jacquetta helps Sindony and a few other witches over to the flames. The battle still rages, the storm howling above. Nox keeps close, fending off attacks.

“What’s this about?” Roland demands when he reaches us, still breathless. His face is soot-smudged and a cut weeps from the side of his face. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re all about todie!”