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  “What is Dish?” I interrupted again.

  “It means ‘lost.’ ”

  “Lost … as in you’d lose your power?” I imagined that would be an unwelcome result, but not enough to deter every person in Blevon from experimenting.

  “Worse. It means to be cursed. To die, but not be dead. To wander aimlessly through the Jin — the Inbetween — forever. It means to lose your soul.”

  “The Inbetween?” I was ashamed of how little I knew of Blevonese beliefs or history. Why hadn’t Papa told me any of this? There was no religion in Antion — at least not in my lifetime; King Hector had forbidden it along with sorcery. But I had always believed in my heart that there was a higher power, that Something was there, even if it didn’t seem like it. I’d heard Mama and Papa praying at night when they thought we were asleep, pleading with a force or power I’d never learned about, in the darkness.

  But they’d never told us any of this, and I couldn’t help feeling as though they’d betrayed me somehow. Especially Papa.

  “The Inbetween is a place of complete darkness, where those who commit the worst crimes known to this world are cursed to reside.”

  “So all black sorcerers are condemned to this fate when they die?” I couldn’t help but think of Iker, and I hoped he was paying for the heinous crimes he’d perpetrated in Antion.

  “I can’t say for certain what happens to those from Dansii. But any sorcerer from Blevon who delves into such practices will endure that fate, yes. And not just when he or she dies. Because of the curse, if any Blevonese sorcerer even attempts black sorcery, he immediately dies, and his soul is banished to spend eternity in the Inbetween.”

  I took a deep breath, understanding finally falling into place. “Which is why you promised Damian there was no way the black sorcerers could be from Blevon.”

  “Yes.”

  “But why not just tell him this? Why not tell everyone? Then the accusations against your kingdom would end.”

  Eljin looked at me hard and long. “Because when Blevonese sorcerers are given all this information, we are sworn to protect it with our lives. If all the people in our world knew about the power the golden waters hold, what do you think would happen? And if the sorcerers in Dansii were to know what would happen to a Blevonese sorcerer if they attempted any sort of black sorcery, what could they do with that knowledge?”

  I grimaced, imagining the catastrophic results. “So why don’t the sorcerers in Dansii die immediately from attempting black sorcery?”

  “We don’t know. Some believe that one of the sorcerers who had followed Delun escaped the battle and fled to Dansii. Supposedly, he murdered the king and offered him as a sacrifice to the demons who empower black sorcerers, and in return, the demons kept him alive, saving him from the curse of instant death and banishment to the Inbetween. He then took the throne for himself.”

  I shuddered at the thought of that sorcerer killing and sacrificing the king in order to get greater power. Perhaps that was the reason why — perhaps the demons protected them in Dansii because they were too far away from the Unknown Power in Blevon for the curse to take hold of them. Eljin’s story also made me wonder about the sorcerers who had once lived in Antion. What had they been like — and how many had there been before Hector had them all murdered? Had they been part Blevonese, as Damian was? Or had any native Antionese ever been granted such power?

  When I spoke again, I changed the subject slightly. “Well, that explains why there could be no black sorcerers from Blevon. But it doesn’t explain why the Blevonese army wouldn’t use a black sorcerer from Dansii to help them, if they wished.”

  “Because of the other part of the curse. Mokaro was also warned that if black sorcery breached the sacred ground of the temple again, all power would be stripped from the world. Every sorcerer would be destroyed.”

  My mouth fell open. “So if Armando brings his black sorcerers to attack the temple, to try to gain access to the fountain … every sorcerer in the world will die?” My thoughts immediately flew to Damian.

  “Yes, if he manages to breach the temple walls, that is what we believe will happen.”

  A dark abyss of hopelessness opened before me. If what he was telling me was true, what chance of saving our people did Damian have?

  “But Mokaro was also given a promise,” Eljin continued. “So long as he and his sorcerer descendants proved themselves worthy by using their power to protect, heal, and fight the evil brewing in Dansii — even giving their lives to protect the temple if necessary — they would be strengthened and given even greater power in their time of need.”

  “Enough to stop Dansii?”

  “I don’t know.” Eljin lifted one shoulder, his mouth pressed together.

  “At least if Dansii does make it all the way to the temple and begins to attack, it gives your people the upper hand. It gives them hope.”

  “Hope is a fragile thing.”

  “But powerful.”

  Eljin tilted his head in acknowledgment. “And now I have given you my burden — the fear and hope of what may come. Mokaro was instructed to only share his visions with Blevonese sorcerers within the protection of the temple walls. All of those who fight for Blevon in our armies are told just enough to understand that accepting help from a black sorcerer, or giving one support, would have catastrophic results for our kingdom and our sorcerers. But that’s all they’re told. They don’t know the details.

  “In telling you all of this, I have broken my oath.”

  His hands were clenched in the folds of his tunic, and he stared down at his feet, not meeting my gaze. I couldn’t fathom what it had cost him to tell me the secrets of his people. But what he’d shared with me was invaluable.

  “Thank you, for telling me,” I said quietly.

  “Don’t thank me,” he barked, suddenly angry. “I broke my oath. I may very well become Dish now when I die.”

  I drew back, shocked. “I don’t believe that. You’re helping us, so we can help your people.”

  He was silent for a long moment, his teeth clenched.

  “Alexa,” he spoke to the ground, “we must stop Armando. We can’t let him reach the temple.”

  “If he does make it there — if he can’t be stopped — and if he somehow reaches the fountain and drinks from it … what will happen?”

  Eljin finally looked at me, his expression bleak. “I don’t know.”

  “But … you said if your people continue to use their sorcery for good, that their power will be increased. The Unseen Power promised … it won’t let you all be destroyed, will it?”

  Eljin shook his head. “I don’t know. No one knows for sure who or what the Unseen Power is; the voice has never revealed itself to anyone besides King Mokaro and his sons. For all we know, they might have made it all up.”

  “If you truly believed that, why didn’t you just tell me and Damian all this before?”

  Eljin didn’t respond. Instead, he lay back on his bed and rolled away from me. “You have the answers you wanted. Now go. I need to rest.”

  I sat there for a moment, shocked by his sudden coldness, and then abruptly stood. “Of course, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

  He didn’t respond.

  Chilled, I quietly left Eljin, shutting his door behind me. He was right; he’d given me the answers I’d asked for, but he’d broken an oath to do it. And I’d never seen him so defeated before.

  “Alexa! There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  I whirled around to see one of the palace messenger boys hurrying down the hallway. He stopped in front of me and held out a sealed parchment.

  “I have a message for you.”

  Hesitantly, I reached out and took it from him.

  “Who is it from?”

  “I’m not sure. It was given to me by one of the perimeter guards with the instructions that it had to reach you tonight.”

  I glanced down at the seal. It was an unfamiliar bird with a sharp beak
in a nosedive. For some reason I had to quell a tremble in my hand as I tore it open and unfolded the note.

  My dearest Alexa,

  I am sad to report that your unfortunate decision to flee camp has had more dire consequences than you may have anticipated. Your fellow guard and friend is not healing well from the wounds you inflicted on him. I am regrettably unskilled in the art of healing, and my healer was one of the men you killed. Out of the graciousness of my heart, I am rushing him back to my king, where we will hopefully arrive in time to do something about this situation.

  I am only doing this because I know you care for the young man. I am counting on you to use your head. If you wish to see him alive, you will come back for him — alone. If I discover that even the smallest force from Antion is following us, I will kill him myself. I’ve already envisioned just how I’d do it. You’d be proud of how creative I’ve become.

  His fate is in your hands.

  Yours,

  Rafe

  Trying to breathe past the sudden knot in my chest, I jerked my head up to question the boy who had brought this to me, only to see an empty hallway.

  He was gone.

  I paced in my room for an hour, trying to build the courage to go in to Damian. My stomach was a mess of acid and indecision. I’d promised him. I’d told him I’d stay — that I chose him.

  But Rafe’s note changed everything.

  How had the missive been brought to the palace? Had Rafe come here?

  Unease clawed at my chest. The black sorcerers in Dansii were inexplicably untouched by the curse placed on Blevonese sorcerers. They had somehow created Rafe and Vera — twin monsters able to control others with their words and eye contact, and other sorcerers couldn’t sense them the way they normally could. The man calling himself Manu de Reich os Deos had used some sort of potion to induce hallucinations of our worst fears come to life. He’d made me hallucinate just by looking into his eyes.

  What other heinous surprises did they have in store for us?

  Steeling my will, I made my decision. I didn’t want to face the other members of the guard, or explain why I was going to see Damian in the middle of the night, even though we were engaged. Instead, I hurried over to the wall and searched along the wooden panels until I found the knot that opened the secret passage between our rooms. A gust of hot, dusty air hit me as I stepped through, into the darkness. Instead of turning back for a torch, I felt along the wall sightlessly until I reached the opening for Damian’s room.

  When I stepped out of the passageway into the curtains, a sudden, unexpected surge of panic hit me. The last time I’d done this, I’d emerged to see him kissing Vera. I’d nearly killed Eljin, and Damian had nearly killed me, before turning his sword on Vera and killing her instead.

  I took a deep breath, reminding myself that she was gone. That Damian was himself. When I walked out, he wouldn’t attack me.

  Pushing the curtain aside, I hesitantly moved forward into his room and immediately noticed him standing beside his desk, staring down at something in his hand, the light of the moon painting his olive skin and dark hair with a silver sheen.

  The floor creaked beneath my foot, and his head jerked up, his hand closing into a fist. When he saw it was me, he relaxed infinitesimally. “Alexa,” he breathed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had to talk to you. Something’s … happened.”

  “What is it? Are you hurt?” Damian set down the object in his hand and strode over to me. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine — it’s not me,” I reassured him as he grabbed my arms and stared down at me, searching my face. With him standing so close, his warm breath touching my cheeks and lips, the heat from his body only inches from mine, I could barely make myself continue. I had to hurry, or I might not have the strength to tell him.

  “Rafe sent me a message tonight.”

  “What?”

  “A palace messenger boy brought me this.” I pulled the parchment out from where I’d stuffed it in my belt.

  Anger flashed across Damian’s face, but he took the note and walked over to the window, holding it out in the moonlight, and quickly scanned it. When he finished, he crushed the parchment in his fist and turned away from me, staring out the window.

  He knew. He knew what I was here to tell him.

  I hesitantly took a step toward him, then stopped, my heart beating so hard beneath my ribs it actually hurt.

  “You promised.” His voice was low, as taut as the air in the moments before a storm breaks.

  “I know.” Could he hear the tears I was trying to hold back in my voice? “But we can’t just let Rafe kill him. I can’t let that happen.”

  “And if I send any of my men after him, he’ll die. I know. I read it.”

  Suddenly, he slammed his fist against the windowpane, making it rattle and threaten to shatter. I flinched, the tears I was trying to hold back spilling onto my cheeks.

  “Damn them. Damn them all.” He hit his window again, but with less force this time. “They are determined to take you from me.” When Damian turned to me, his face was empty, his piercing eyes dulled by hopelessness. “And there is nothing I can do to make you stay … is there?”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  We stood motionless in the darkness for long moments that bled into minutes of strained silence. Finally, he made a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a sob, and then he strode toward me, grabbing me in his arms and crushing me to him. Damian bent his head down, so that his face was pressed against my neck. His hand stroked over my hair, again and again. My body trembled with my own terrified sobs.

  “This isn’t good-bye — not permanently,” I said fiercely.

  “You can’t keep cheating death forever.” He lifted his head to look down into my face.

  “I came back to you once, and I will come back again. I’m not going out there to die.”

  Damian shook his head. “And what if there’s nothing to return to? I don’t know what my uncle is preparing to do, but we don’t have the strength to survive an attack from Dansii and Blevon.”

  “There is no threat from Blevon. Dansii is behind all of it, I know it. You must contact King Osgand, tell him something has happened to General Tinso, and ask for help from the Rén Zhsas.”

  “How do you —”

  “Eljin told me about them. He told me everything.”

  “I don’t even know everything,” Damian admitted. “Only what little my mother told me before she died. I couldn’t travel to the temple to find out about my heritage properly when I had to make sure no one could find out that I was a sorcerer. She was going to tell me everything when I got older. She never had the chance.”

  “Well, now you don’t have to travel there to find out.” I quickly related everything Eljin had told me. Damian’s eyes grew wider and wider, and his arms tightened around me.

  “That must be what Armando is after. He wants more power, and he thinks he can get it from that fountain. But he has to go through Antion to get to it.” Damian let go of me to turn away, reaching up to thread his hands through his hair and squeeze his temples with his palms as though trying to push away a headache — or the truth of the situation. “Together, Antion and Blevon have a chance of stopping him, and he knows it. But if he can get us to keep fighting … then …”

  “Then he can march his armies and black sorcerers through the chaos and straight to the temple.”

  “Is that why he’s done all of this? Is that why he’s determined to ensure the war between Blevon and Antion keeps going — why he’s trying to restart it? He and my father must have planned this all along. To weaken our two countries enough so that he could march through and claim his prize.”

  I thought of my parents lying on the ground, killed by a black sorcerer, all those years ago…. “He’s the one who’s sending the black sorcerers. It’s always been him. He wanted to make sure the people of Antion hated Blevon.” I paused, the devastating truth nearly c
hoking me. “My parents were killed by Dansii. Not Blevon.”

  Damian’s shoulders slumped slightly, and he shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Alexa. I’m sorry that you had to lose your family because of my family’s greed.”

  “I’m not the only one who has lost their loved ones.”

  Damian didn’t respond. Instead, he walked over to his desk and picked up the object he’d been holding earlier. I recognized it now as the locket he’d shown me in General Tinso’s castle in Blevon. It was the one with the portrait of his mother inside. His hand closed around it, and then he looked up, meeting my gaze. “If you go after Rafe, you will be walking directly into his trap. He’ll find a way to control you — to kill you.”

  He already does control me. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t admit it to him. “He won’t kill me. They want me alive for some reason.”

  “Then why did that man try to kill you today?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. He said something strange before he died — something about us giving him no choice, and it being better to bring the king my blood than nothing at all.”

  Damian’s eyebrows pulled together in alarm. “He must have heard that he was to be beheaded tonight.”

  “So he decided to attack and try to take my blood back to his king, since Vera and Rafe failed to do it,” I finished for him. “Rather than be killed and leave Armando empty-handed. He was just biding his time, waiting to use his power to get what he wanted, but the loss of Vera and the threat of death made him reckless.”

  Damian’s hand was clenched so tightly around the locket that his knuckles were white. “Why do they want you? Why would Armando want your blood?”