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Malice (Malice Duology, #1)(88)

Author:Heather Walter

I look back only once, when I pass through Briar’s main gates for the last time. The moon tonight is high and full, bathing the Grace District in its ethereal light. The shadow of the palace falls hard on its rooftops. Torchlight flickers over the openmouthed dragon gargoyles perched on the palace’s eaves and ripples over stained-glass windows. One of them is Aurora’s.

My heart stutters, urging me for the first time away from this plan. I’d written her a dozen notes, tossing each one into the fire when my nerve failed. I can’t explain to her why I’m leaving—that I’m little better than the Briar King’s minion. That he will require worse from me, and I’ll have little choice but to comply. Aurora would hate me. Coward that I am, I can’t stomach the thought.

Callow ruffles her wings against my cheek.

It isn’t safe for us here anymore.

But I whisper a vow that I will return when Aurora is queen. When things are different.

* * *

The tower is easy to spot, jutting up against the obsidian of the calm sea. My heart beats faster with every step. Knowing that what I’m about to do will change my life forever.

Moonlight streams through the gap in the wall, glinting off bits of broken stone in the staircase. The tattered banners billow and sigh in the night breeze like wraiths.

The darkness undulates and Kal materializes, his worried gaze divided between Callow and the sack I dump unceremoniously on the ground. “What is this?”

“We have to leave Briar.” I let my Shift fade away and relax back to my true form, muscles cooling and skin shrinking. “Tell me how to break your bonds.”

Kal can only stare. His shadow chains move at haphazard angles. “What happened?”

Quickly, I fill him in on Narcisse’s trial and the shackle I cursed, one eye on the entrance to the tower as I do. Part of me believes Endlewild or the king’s guard will storm in at any moment and drag me back to the castle to execute me or lock me in a cell. But there is only the lapping of waves on stone. The brine-stained, wintry kiss of the night.

“I thought I understood what I was doing. But I didn’t expect…I didn’t know—”

“There is no need to explain.” Kal’s shadows coil into him. He pauses, looking out at the clear, star-crusted night sky. “And I agree. The king’s requests will only worsen. I do not want him thinking you are a pawn he can control. But are you certain this is what you want? The last time we spoke it seemed—”

“No.” I cut him off so suddenly that Callow clacks her annoyance. “It’s time. I have enough gold for us to board the next ship out. The only thing left is to break your bindings—if I can.”

He closes the distance between us. “You already know what to do.”

“Can’t you tell me anything more than that?”

But that infuriating stillness engulfs him again. His lips mash together until they’re bloodless.

“Of course you can’t,” I mutter, raking my hands through my hair in frustration. “What kind of prison would it be if you could tell someone how to free you?”

I begin to pace back and forth, wracking my mind for what I know about Kal’s past and his bindings. As if they know they’re the subject of scrutiny, the dark tendrils curve and wend in a macabre dance around his body. My magic strains in its cage, aching to tear them to pieces. Grind them to dust.

I wheel to a halt, upsetting Callow.

Perhaps I can do just that.

The enchantment is bred from magic. And I can find magic. Control it. My power is Vila. Strong enough to build Malterre. To create an entire race even the Etherians could not crush.

Cobbling together what little confidence I have, I focus on the writhing shadows, reaching my magic out to find theirs. It connects almost instantly. But instead of another cord or a beating heart, I feel a wall of black stone like those of this tower. Slimy and ancient and impenetrable. Protections, I realize, put in place to guard the enchantment.

But they will not stand against me.

With everything I have, I push against the walls of power. The shadows groan and creak, as if they are made of rusted iron. Kal winces, his body tightening. The enchantment gives way another inch beneath the pressure of my magic. Then another. My limbs begin to shake, sweat pouring down my neck and soaking the back of my dress. But I will not give in. I will sever these chains. The groaning intensifies, like nails against glass. The scent of ice and frosted stone that I know is the enchantment’s magic burns in my lungs. I’m getting closer. The protections are so thin now. Beneath them, I can feel the brittle heart of the enchantment thrumming. All I need do is—

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