Something in Kell stirred, distant and hushed. Wrong, it whispered. This is … But then another wave of pain sent him reeling. Power pounded through his veins, and his head came to rest against his brother’s ribs as the pain tore through him, skin and muscle, bone and soul.

Rhy gasped, and so did Kell, his heart skipping once more in his chest.

And then it stopped.

II

The room went deathly still.

Kell’s hand slipped from Rhy’s ribs, and his body tumbled from the cot to the stone floor with a sickening thud. Lila’s ears were still ringing from the force of her head meeting the wall as she pushed herself to her hands and knees, and then to her feet.

Kell wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing.

And then, after a moment that seemed to last hours, he drew a deep, shuddering breath. And so did Rhy.

Lila swore with relief as she knelt over Kell. His shirt was open, his stomach and chest streaked with blood, but under that, a black symbol, made up of concentric circles, was branded into his skin, directly over his heart. Lila looked up at the cot. The same mark was scrawled over Rhy’s bloody chest.

“What have you done?” she whispered. She didn’t know that much about magic, but she was fairly certain that bringing someone back from the dead was solidly in the bad column. If all magic came at a price, what had this cost Kell?

As if in answer, his eyes floated open. Lila was relieved to see that one of them was still blue. There had been an instant, during the spell, when both had gone solid black.

“Welcome back,” she said.

Kell groaned, and Lila helped him up into a sitting position on the cold stone floor. His attention went to the bed, where Rhy’s chest rose and fell in a slow but steady motion. His eyes went from the mark on the prince’s skin to the mirrored mark on his own, which he touched, wincing faintly.

“What did you do?” asked Lila.

“I bound Rhy’s life to mine,” he said hoarsely. “As long as I survive, so will he.”

“That seems like a dangerous spell.”

“It’s not a spell,” he said softly. She didn’t know if he lacked the strength to speak louder or was afraid of waking his brother. “It’s called a soul seal. Spells can be broken. A soul seal cannot. It’s a piece of permanent magic. But this,” he added, grazing the mark, “this is…”

“Forbidden?” ventured Lila.

“Impossible,” said Kell. “This kind of magic, it doesn’t exist.”

He seemed dazed and distant as he got to his feet, and Lila tensed when she saw that he was still gripping the stone. Black veins traced up his arm. “You need to let go of that now.”

Kell looked down, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. But when he managed to unclench his fingers, the talisman didn’t fall out. Threads of black spun out from the rock, winding down his fingers and up his wrist. He stared down at the stone for several long moments. “It appears I can’t,” he said at last.

“Isn’t that bad?” pressed Lila.

“Yes,” he said, and his calm worried her more than anything. “But I didn’t have a choice.… I had to…” He trailed off, turning toward Rhy.

“Kell, are you all right?” It seemed an absurd question, given the circumstances, and Kell gave her a look that said as much, so Lila added, “When you were doing that spell, you weren’t you.”

“Well, I am now.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, gesturing at his hand. “Because that’s new.” Kell frowned. “That rock is bad magic; you said it yourself. It feeds on energy. On people. And now it’s strapped itself to you. You can’t tell me that doesn’t worry you.”

“Lila,” he said darkly. “I couldn’t let him die.”

“But what you’ve done instead—”

“I did what I had to do,” he said. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. I am already lost.”

Lila scowled. “What do you mean by that?”

Kell’s eyes softened a little. “Someone has to return the stone to Black London, Lila. It’s not just a matter of opening a door and casting the object through. I have to take it there. I have to walk through with it.” Kell looked down at the stone binding itself to his hand. “I never expected to make it back.”

“Christ, Kell,” growled Lila. “If you’re not going to bother staying alive, then what’s the damn point? Why tether Rhy’s life to yours if you’re just going to throw it away?”

Kell cringed. “So long as I live, so will he. And I didn’t say I planned on dying.”

“But you just said—”

“I said I’m not coming back. The seals on Black London were designed less to keep anyone from going in, and more to keep anyone from getting out. I can’t strip the spells. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. And with the spells intact, even if I manage to make a door into Black London, the seals will never let me back out.”

“And you weren’t going to mention any of this. You were just going to let me follow you on a one-way trip to—”

“You said you wanted an adventure,” snapped Kell, “and no, I never intended to let you—”

Just then the door swung open. Kell and Lila fell silent, their argument echoing on the walls of the narrow stone chamber.

An old man was standing in the doorway wearing a black robe, one hand against the doorframe, the other holding up a sphere of pale white light. He wasn’t old in a withered way. In fact, he stood straight and broad-shouldered, his age belied only by his white hair and the deep creases on his face, made deeper by the shadows cast from the light in his palm. Kell pulled his coat around himself and buried his damaged hand in his pocket.