Page 213 of The Witch Queen

“You might want to discuss this later,” Gavin interrupts. “The king managed to muster the guard and—”

The clank of steel cuts him off. Dozens of armed men march into the courtyard, fanning out until we’re surrounded. Archers appear in the broken windows or perch on the remnants of the crumbling balconies. Ayleth scrambles to her feet, motioning to Nox, who bounds over to us. Gavin steps closer to me, protective, as another person strides out from the palace:

Papa.

He halts at the head of the guard, surveying the damage. Nox snarls, his massive teeth bared.

“Well,” Papa says, “it seems you’ve taken care of half my problem for me,wife.But that won’t save you from your fate.”

At his signal, the guards advance. A nearby witch reacts, shouting a spell that sends the slab of a stone balcony flying across the courtyard. It plows into the line of men, knocking them down like pins. The archers respond in kind, releasing a volley of arrows. Gavin shields me as they whistle past my ears.

“Come on,” he says. “I’m getting you out of here.”

I’m not going anywhere. I’m tired of the endless violence. The shifting alliances. It’s time to stop all this—now. Driven by an unknown instinct, I raise my hands and shout:

“Enough!”

The word reverberates through the courtyard, so strong that bits of stone shake loose from the higher floors. The next wave of arrows falls flat midair. Swords bend as they swing, the metal rusting and warping. Witches’ spells die on their lips and arcs of magic fizzle before they strike. HadIdone that?

I don’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified.

“Well,” Papa says, his boots clipping on the stones as he descends the stairs. “It certainly seems like you’ve harnessed that power of yours, Daughter. I’m quite proud of you.”

But the look he gives me isn’t pride. It’s hunger.

“Don’t come any closer,” I warn.

“My, my.” Papa clicks his tongue. “You’ve certainly grown teeth. But, I’m curious. How far are you willing to go? Do you actually believe the realm will stand behind you, knowing what youare?”

I bristle, fighting the urge to shrink against his scrutiny.

“I don’t know,” I admit, lifting my chin. “But this realm will not stand behindyouany longer. Not after what you’ve done. Surrender and you won’t be harmed.”

Tension builds in the courtyard. Papa hesitates, weighing his options. I’m not sure what I’ll do if he refuses. Gavin clearly has an idea. Steel sings as he pulls his blade.

“A generous offer,” Papa says. “But I spent the last three years locked in a prison. If you want to put me back there, you’ll have to pry the throne away from me yourself.”

He sneers, grabs the nearest sword from his guard, and charges.

“Callen!”

All attention pivots to the upper floors of the palace where, to my complete astonishment,Aunt Margarethas appeared in one of the blown-out windows. Her silver gaze shines in the light of the dying pyre. And she’s holding…a mirror.

“It’shis,” Ayleth says in a gasp. “Callen’s.”

“Margaret!” Papa barks. “What are you doing? Put that down! Carefully!”

I look to Ayleth, panicked. “You said if it breaks, Papa dies?”

She swallows. “Yes, but so will Margaret.”

Horror flares in my veins. I rush toward the palace.

“Do as Papa says, Aunt Margaret!” I call up to her, breathless. “Please. It will kill you!”

Her face tilts toward mine. I’m not sure how much of her is left within the shell of her body, but I pray that she can hear me. That she will not do this.

“Listen to her, Margaret,” Papa attempts. “Put. It.Down!”