Perry glanced toward him, eyes bright with fear. For him or for herself, he had no idea.
“Go ahead,” she said quietly, and stepped off the stairs and into the grass.
Make your brother proud.
Though those words had come from the Viper Queen, Ithan held them close to his heart as he stepped out of the shadows.
Snarls and growls and shouts of surprise rose. Ithan held up his hands. “I’m not here to start trouble.”
“Then get the fuck out!” someone—Gideon, Amelie’s third—shouted from the back. Amelie herself was striding through the crowd, fury twisting her face—
“Everything we are is a lie,” Ithan said before Amelie could reach him and start swinging.
Some people quieted. Ithan plunged on, because Amelie’s canines were lengthening, and he knew she’d be making the full shift soon.
“Danika Fendyr questioned this, too. She died before she could find the truth.”
The words had their desired effect. The crowd went silent. But Amelie still charged forward, shoving people out of the way now, Gideon a menacing, hulking mass close behind—
Ithan looked at Perry, standing at the front of the crowd, her green eyes trained on him. It was to her that he said, “The Asteri planted a parasite in our brains that repressed our inherent magic, reducing it to its most basic components: shifting and strength. Yet even those abilities have been cut off at the knees. All so we can remain their faithful enforcers, as we’ve been since the Northern Rift opened.”
Amelie was ten feet away, muscles tensing to jump onto the stairs, to pin him and shred him—
“Look,” Ithan said, and held out a hand. Ice swirled in his palm.
A gasp went through the crowd. Even Amelie stumbled in shock.
Ithan said, letting the ice crust his fingers, “Magic—elemental magic. It was lying there, dormant in my veins all this time.” He found Perry’s eyes again, noted the shock and something like yearning in them. “A friend of mine, a medwitch, made an antidote for me. I took it and discovered what I really am. Who I really am. What sleeps in the bloodline of all wolves, repressed by the Asteri for fifteen thousand years.”
“It’s a witch-trick,” Amelie spat, making to shove past her little sister. “Move,” she ordered Perry. Not as her sister, but as her Alpha.
But Perry, despite her slim frame, held firm. And said to Amelie, her voice carrying, “I want to hear what he has to say.”
* * *
Ithan spoke as quickly as he could, giving the wolves an overview of the parasite and what it did to their magic. And then, because they were still looking doubtful, he explained what really happened in the Bone Quarter: Secondlight. The meat grinder of souls.
When he was done, Ithan found Perry’s face again. She’d gone ghostly white.
“Queen Hypaxia Enador can verify all I’ve told you,” Ithan said.
“She’s not queen anymore!” a wolf called. “She’s been kicked out—like you, Holstrom.”
Ithan bared his teeth. “She’s brilliant. She figured out how to fix this thing in our brains, to give us this magic back. So don’t you take that fucking tone about her.”
And at the snarl in his voice, the order, the wolves in the crowd straightened. Not with anger or fear, but …
“What did you do?” Perry said, staggering forward a step. “Ithan, you’re—”
“There is another Fendyr,” Ithan said, plowing ahead, bracing himself.
The crowd stirred. Perry gaped at him. “What do you mean?” she asked. He couldn’t stand the confusion and hope in her voice, her bright eyes.
“Her name is Sigrid,” Ithan said, throat tightening painfully. “She … she’s the daughter of Sabine’s late brother. And she—”
“That is enough,” Amelie spat, shoving forward at last. “This insane rambling stops now.”
Ithan growled, low and deep, and even Amelie halted, one foot on the step.
He held her gaze, let her see everything in it.
“Why is this traitor still alive?” Sabine’s voice slithered over the courtyard.
Ithan pivoted, carefully keeping Amelie in his sights as he surveyed the approaching Prime Apparent.
A step behind her, emerging from the shadows, strode Sigrid and the Astronomer.
73
“Reaper,” Perry breathed, falling back. Not to run, but to protect a young wolf a few steps behind her, who shook in pure terror at the acid-green eyes of the Reaper in their midst.
Judging by Sigrid’s fairly normal gait, she was still in the middle of her transition. But there was an oddness to her movements already. The beginnings of that unnaturally smooth glide that only Reapers could effect.