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been expecting,” the king grumbled, turning his head to the side, casting a quick, puzzling glance over his shoulder at the Lei Guard.

“So few, yet more than enough. You’ve returned with a worthy prize.” He chuckled to himself. His eyes roved over Kaep’s body with an inquisitive hunger that turned her stomach. A glimmer of recognition seemed to flash in his eyes, though it faded as quickly as it had come.

“Tell me, my dear,” the king grumbled, “what of the others? What of the tribute come back to life?”

Kaep glared at the king. She struggled against the bonds that held her wrists. The ropes had dug into her skin. She could feel the trickle of warm blood ooze from her skin. The icy grip of Elias standing by her side pinched on her right arm. He pulled up, a single violent jerk, arresting her struggling hands.

The king rose to his feet. He stepped forward, stopping as he squinted his eyes, scouring her frame with his look.

“Your silence is admirable. Yet pointless,” the king whispered, though the power of his gravelly voice filled the room. “I care not for the tributes. They will be rounded up, or they will perish. Either way, there will be more.”

He paced slowly to the side.

“The lords will wait. The price they pay will increase. They will squabble. Some will die, yet you are my salvation,” he admitted. “In your blood I will achieve life eternal. You are a phrenic. A long-lost relic of a time when your superiority sought to command the kingdom. Your blood has never been tainted by the treatments, allowed to flourish hidden in the depths of the wilds.”

The king crossed back toward his throne, stalking along the line of the Lei Guard.

“Think that I have not heard the whispers of prophecy,” he hissed as if the word itself was a curse. “Think you that I have not noticed the open contempt for my law. The discourse spreads among the people like a plague. They whisper of hope. It will be crushed by a wave of blackness.”

The king’s voice escalated as he finished his dissertation. His final words struck with a faint wave of inky blackness. It was awash with hatred, hopelessness, and fear.

Though she shrugged off the feeble attack with little effort, her mouth cracked open in astonished, disgusted surprise.

“Your powers are pitiful,” she cursed. “You are a monster.”

The king’s eyes went wide. His body trembled with anger.

The coating of blackness that covered the floor lurched forward with the emotion. The crippling power of the sensations was daunting. She doubled over at the waist. Elias’s viselike grip was all that held her body up from the floor.

The assault of emotions hammered into her. Her eyes welled with tears.

The crushing pain of loss.

A bottomless feeling of betrayal.

The blistering hatred, raw and seething.

A chilling black void of hopelessness.

Her senses screamed for mercy as the tears streamed down her face.

Through vision clouded with moisture, she glared at the king. His face was scrunched into a heinous scowl of concentration as he attempted to force his will, exert his force over her. His attack was impotent. Her agonized gaze settled on the Lei Guard standing in the center over the king’s right shoulder. He had separated himself from the solid line of his peers by a step. The figure was a few hands shorter than the others. Even buried in the black folds of its cloak, the telltale hunch of age was unmistakable.

The power that coursed from his being was unrelenting.

It was ancient.

The alexen in her blood screamed in rage.

She gasped in horror as his identity dawned on her.

The phrenics of old had been betrayed by one. He represented the original sin that brought the proud order to the very brink of extinction.

He was the butcher of his own people. His own kin.

“Leiroth,” she gasped.

The Lei Guard glided forward without a sound. With every step forward, the agonizing emotion that hammered her body swelled. He stopped alongside the king, extending his hand to his liege. In his palm was a small glass vial. A thick, viscous black liquid sloshed inside.

“Her presence lures another. A prize far greater,” his voice hissed. There was a disturbing familiarity in its tone. “Make her ready. It is time.”

Chapter 36

Ryl had closed his eyes for what he’d intended to be nothing more than a long blink. The rhythmic bumping of the large wheels across the cobblestone street had ceased as he stirred from the slumber that had overtaken him. The sounds of familiar voices from outside the wagon assured him that his respite had not been long.

Though the tendrils of sleep clung tightly to his consciousness, he found his footing easily, slipping from the carriage without a sound. The rest, though abbreviated, had done his body wonders. The heaviness from the rich meal had burned off, leaving his body energized from the nourishment. He felt refreshed as if he’d managed a complete night of uninterrupted slumber.

Undisturbed sleep had been elusive to Ryl since his imprisonment within The Stocks. Terrors routinely plagued him at night. Neither remedies nor potions worked to rid him of them for long. He’d resolved to find rest in short spurts, therefore alleviating the rigors and temptation of the more potent terrors that frequented deeper sleep.

Ryl found himself in a vast courtyard, though the area was poorly lit for its size. Likely by design, heavy shadows permeated the area, casting large swaths in the deep cover of night. He squinted his eyes into the dark. There, set against the violet of the night sky, darker shadows lurked in the gloom.

For a moment, he panicked, reaching for the Leaves strapped to his lower back. He stopped as his senses and wisdom took control over the conditioned reaction. His mindsight flashed into view unbeckoned.

There were no shadowed wisps of black lurking in the darkness that surrounded him. Only the calming yellow glow of young Aelin was shown in his vision.

He could almost sense Kaep at

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