They entered through a service door on silent feet. Voices carried from the kitchen along with the clanging of pots and pans. Zeph peeked around the corner, held up three fingers, and gestured for Lochlan and Favián to follow. Elin stayed where she was, peering around the corner just as Zeph faded into shadows, reappearing behind one of the servants, snapping his neck. Lochlan disappeared into shimmering orbs, and reappeared at the back of another servant, snapping his neck as well. Favián didn’t have magical talents, but he didn’t need them. He released his knife with a silent grunt, his right arm coming down hard and fast, the knife meeting its mark between the eyes. All three servants lay dead on the floor.

But a fourth one entered through the door at Elin’s back. They saw each other at the same time. He lunged at her. She darted underneath him, her heart racing. He swiped at her just as she moved past him and managed to scratch the side of her left cheek. She shuffled backward, bumping into a shelf. He sneered, his lip curling as he prowled toward her. She had never killed anyone. She was an elemental and a healer. But the thing about healers was...if they could fix a heart, they could also break one.

Frightened or not, Elin would not cower. Not now. Not when she looked into the servant’s eyes and imagined him hurting her brother, hurting all those she had helped on their journey. “That’s right,” Elin said with false calm. “Come get me.” Her palms were hot behind her back. “I want you to.”

The moment he was within arm’s reach, she lurched forward, pressed her glowing palm on his chest, and commanded his heart to squeeze itself. His face turned red, then purple. His eyes wide as two full moons.

She made sure he was looking at her when she said, “Die.”

Lochlan, Favián, and Zeph rounded the corner and stared at the dead servant at Elin’s feet. She stepped over him, feeling half horrified and half satisfied. “Four down. Several more to go.”

On their way out of the kitchen, Lochlan asked, “Are you all right?”

“Four down. Several more to go,” she repeated.

“Elin.”

“Yes, I’m all right. It was kill or be killed. And there are more I’d like to see dead.”

King Rolim grew increasingly impatient, but he reined it in, knowing that in a short while everything he had planned would come to pass soon. He raked a long black nail across the pleat of the velvet curtains, gazing at the moon that glowed menacingly over the city. His city. Ever since he was a boy he had known he would rule Faery. Albeit, he had thought he would rule much later in life, not believing his mother would fall at the hands of a half-breed or his father at the hands of Zeph. Nothing could have prepared him for that.

But here he was, and here they were, and he would make them pay for what they had done. Not because he loved his parents. He didn’t know love. He had never been shown any. He only knew hate and he had hated his parents. If anyone killed them, it should have been him. However, that was only part of the reason he wanted them to suffer. Rolim just liked inflicting pain on others. He also liked destroying things. It was the very reason he took Arwyn—so he could destroy her. And in destroying her, it would destroy Zeph.

A loud crashing noise sounded from inside his throne room. He turned to his captain. “What do you suppose that was?” he asked with a gleam in his eye.

“I believe your guests have arrived, Your Highness.”

Zeph waited for the king to enter the throne room, anticipating his arrival with an uncomfortable nervousness, though Zeph refused to show it to anyone. When the king’s captain opened the wide double doors, he wished for the nervousness to fade and for steely resolve to take its place. Zeph fixed his countenance to appear bored when the king stepped through the doorway, his red-tinted hair falling to his waist, a contrast to his pallid gray skin and striking golden eyes. Rolim had a face that was wicked and beautiful. That was the thing about evil. It was often a wicked beauty.

A reckoning stretched out before Zeph, glimmering like sunlight on a spider’s web as they met each other’s eyes.

Zeph flashed a smile. “You kept us waiting. Not very polite of you.”

“You kept me waiting first.” Rolim’s lips thinned as he surveyed the ruination of his throne room. “Did the statues upset you?”

“We’re in a foul mood.”

“I see. I also see you’re in the mood to play games.”

“Not particularly, no. We’re simply letting you know that you are not to be king. This seat,” Zeph said, reclining back, “does not belong to you.”

Rolim tipped a red-tinted brow. “And it belongs to you?”

Zeph grinned. “No. I don’t want to be king. I just want you dead.”

“Pity that you won’t get your wish,” Rolim replied. “Now, remove yourself from my throne. You and your…” His eyes roamed to Elin. “—your sister.”

“Have you the inclination to move, Elin?” Zeph asked.

“No, I don’t believe I do,” she answered.

Zeph shrugged. “Pity that you won’t get your wish, Rolim.”

“I could make you,” Rolim said, his tone heated.

“You could certainly try,” Zeph challenged, raising a finger in the air. “But I must tell you, everyone in this palace is dead. The guards. The cooks. The maids. We spared no one. All loyalists to you and all. So that just leaves you and your captain. I thought it only fair we mention it.”

The king laughed. “You think you have me, is that it? Tell me, Zeph. Did you wonder why this all seemed a bit too easy? It was easy, wasn’t it? No one guarding your precious little elf. Very little resistance as you made your way into the city. The palace. Perhaps it was cruel of me to give you and your sister false hope, but I am a cruel Fae and an even crueler king.” Rolim clasped his hands and strolled back and forth. “What did you think? Truly?”

Of course, Zeph had known. He was still trying to figure out what Rolim was up to. It must have shown on his face.

“Ah,” Rolim said. “You did think it.” He smiled. “I’ll help you, Zeph. I don’t care that you killed my monsters and servants. I’ll get more. You know why?” Zeph let his lids lower like he was bored. “Because I can. I think I’ll use humans as my servants next.” Rolim tapped his chin. “And I can use…say…Cait Sidhe to replace my monsters.” He quirked a brow. “Incidentally, where is our dear Arwyn?”

Zeph rose violently to his feet. “What have you done?”

“I’m merely asking where my soon-to-be bride is? Oh, that’s right,” Rolim said, snapping his fingers. “She’s right here. Tabris! Bring her in!”

Tabris stepped into the throne room with Arwyn in tow, holding her tightly to his chest, a paw covering her mouth. There was pain etching Tabris’s face, a strain around his cat eyes.

“He’s under my control,” Rolim explained. “So, you see, it doesn’t matter much to me that you killed some monsters. I can always gain new ones. You of all people, Zeph, should know how Darkside View works. My parents used it on you. Tapping into the dark side of someone’s personality. We all have darkness within us. Don’t we, Zeph? And I am a master at controlling the darkness in others. I had the best teachers, you see.”

“Don’t hurt her,” Elin pleaded with Tabris. “Please.”

“I don’t want to,” Tabris gritted out.

“But he will,” Rolim interrupted. “If I tell him to. I can manipulate him however I want.”

Zeph raised the captain’s shadow, made it solid, a living being. He hadn’t even realized he had done it, blinded by the rage that churned within his soul. Zeph blinked when Elin grabbed his arm.

“What is that?” she asked.

“Do not be afraid. I have brought a gift.”

“You have?” said Eliniana. “Why?”

“Because,” the woman said, a smile playing at her lips, “you are the Fae of Light, a very special young lady indeed. And you, Zuriel, are special as well.”

He frowned, not feeling very special at all. “I’m just the Fae of Shadows,” he said.

The woman’s head tilted in concern. “You do not realize your powers?”

Zuriel shrugged. “I can make shadows dance. Is that what you mean?”

“You can do more than make shadows dance.”

The captain stared stiffly as this newly formed being stalked around him and his king. The king only glared at Zeph.

Answering his sister, Zeph said, “That will do what I tell it to do.” Zeph narrowed his eyes and ordered his shadow creature to kill the king.

But the king was prepared and struck the shadow creature with a powerful force of energy that incinerated it into a bright white orb of fire. His captain was incinerated as well, for whatever happened to the shadow reflected in the true body. Zeph had instinctually known that, somehow, which was why he had chosen his shadow creature to kill the king, certain the king would react just as he had.

“We’re down to one,” he said to his sister, noting that Favián had moved in behind Tabris while the king was otherwise distracted, and was currently holding a knife to Tabris’s throat.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Rolim said, feeling pleased with himself, not yet aware of Favián’s presence.

“I have more tricks up my sleeve,” Zeph said. “Would you like to see another?”

“I think I would like to see what your sister can do.”

Rolim flung his hands in the air and released a wave of energy at Elin, but Elin threw her hands up and pushed back with all her might. Lochlan emerged, seemingly coming out of the wall with a roar, and launched an enormous fireball at the Unseelie King who thought he could attack his betrothed and live to tell the tale, his face a twist of rage. The fireball hit its mark and Rolim stumbled back on his heels. Lochlan continued to launch attack after attack while Elin continued to push back on the king’s assault. She grew brighter and brighter until the room was lit like the sun. Zeph was nearly blinded by her light.

Bolts of light arced from her fingertips. Rolim screamed in agony. Her hair blew around her face, windows shattered, and the faces of the shattered statues began to melt.

“Elin, stop!” Lochlan yelled.

“You’ll kill yourself!” Zeph shouted.

They screamed over each other.

Elin let go of her power and fell to her knees. Zeph and Lochlan were both there, holding her, smoothing back her hair. She lifted her eyes, saw the king crawling on the floor, charred, naked, clothes having been burned completely off, his long red hair singed off his head, but still, he was alive.

“I tried,” she said, her voice faint as a wisp of smoke. “I tried.”

“I know,” Zeph said. “I know.”

“I can’t be k-killed,” Rolim gasped. “I tr-traded in dark magic.” He laughed, though it sounded like a high-pitched wheeze. “I am invincible.”

“What did you sacrifice?” Zeph barked.

“What?”

“You said you traded in dark magic. Dark magic requires a personal sacrifice. What did you give it?” Zeph knew dark magic from having lived in Shadowland. He also knew to stay away from it.

Rolim looked up, grinned. “My soul.”

Zeph closed his eyes, cursing under his breath

“What does that mean?” Favián asked.

“We can’t kill him,” he said softly. “Dark magic is…” Zeph shook his head. “It’s not even magic. It’s…not of this world.”

“Zeph,” Lochlan said.

“What?”

“Your chest, it’s—glowing.”

Zeph looked down, rubbed his hand over the pale purple light that glowed there.

“Come here, Zuriel, I want to give you something.” He padded across the stone floor and climbed into bed beside his sister. The woman held out a purple rock, smooth on all sides. “This is a magic stone. I brought it straight from the Middle World. One day you will know how to use it and what to use it for. Until then, keep it, and when it is time to use it, the stone will let you know.”

Zeph’s eyes met his sister’s. “Give me the stone, Elin.”

Her eyes welled with tears. “No.”

“Elin, give me the stone. I can end this.” His eyes flitted over to the king, who was already beginning to heal. “Give it to me.”

“Zeph—”

His eyes came back to hers. He smiled softly at her. “You know you have to.” He touched her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “It makes sense that it was me, you know. You have too much good in you.” He nodded, accepting his fate. “It makes sense that it was me.”

“Don’t do this. We’ll f-find another way.”

“There isn’t another way.” He kissed the top of her head. “Give me the stone, Elin.”

“Zeph!” Arwyn called out, her face a mass of confusion. “What are you doing?” She wrestled free from Tabris, who was no longer under Rolim’s control in his weakened state, and she edged away from him.

“Arwyn,” Zeph said, choking on her name. He felt the smooth stone in his hand as Elin handed it to him. “I’m righting wrongs, my sweets. The only way I can.” He placed the stone on his chest and watched as it became a part of his skin, adhering to his flesh, purple light spreading throughout his body like an intricate web. “We can’t kill him. But I can send this evil straight to Hell, away from here.” He looked up at her then, those three words formed again on his tongue, and this time, he was able to say them. “Thank you, Arwyn. Because of you, I know what it meant to be loved, for I loved you.”

With that, he looked away from her, knowing he couldn’t watch her tears fall. He had made her cry too many times before. He looked evil in the face instead as Rolim stood to his full height. Zeph let out a roar, ran like a bull toward him, knowing exactly where he wanted to place his horns. And as he ran, Zeph scattered into tiny particles, as he had before, only this time the particles glowed a bright purple, then formed into a tight ball just before hitting the king square in the chest. The king exploded into the same bright particles of light and then—nothing.

Zeph and the king were gone.

The only thing that broke the silence were Elin and Arwyn’s screams.