But it wasn’t enough.

As much as he wanted to leave her there in the broken garden with her brother’s corpse, he couldn’t. Magic, like everything, faded. Spells were broken. Astrid could be free again one day. And he couldn’t let that happen.

Kell gripped her white stone shoulder. His fingers were bloody, like the rest of him, and the Antari magic came as easily as air. “As Steno,” he said.

Deep cracks formed across the queen’s face, jagged fissures carving down her body, and when his fingers tightened, the stone statue of Astrid Dane shattered under his touch.

V

Kell shivered, the strange calm settling over him again.

It was heavier this time. And then someone called his name, just as they had moments earlier, and he looked up to see Lila clutching her shoulder as she half ran, half limped down the stairs, bruised and bloody, but alive. Her black mask hung from her bloody fingers.

“You all right?” she asked when she reached him.

“Never better,” he said, even though it was taking every ounce of his strength to focus his eyes on her, his mind on her.

“How did you know?” she asked, looking down at the rubble of the queen. “How did you know she wasn’t me?”

Kell managed an exhausted smile. “Because she said please.”

Lila stared at him, aghast. “Is that a joke?”

Kell shrugged slightly. It took a lot of effort. “I just knew,” he said.

“You just knew,” she echoed.

Kell nodded. Lila took him in with careful eyes, and he wondered what he must look like in that moment.

“You look terrible,” she said. “You better get rid of that rock.”

Kell nodded.

“I could come with you.”

Kell shook his head. “No. Please. I don’t want you to.” It was the honest answer. He didn’t know what waited on the other side, but whatever it was, he would face it alone.

“Fine,” said Lila, swallowing. “I’ll stay here.”

“What will you do?” he asked.

Lila forced a shrug. “Saw some nice ships on the dock when we were running for our lives. One of them will do.”

“Lila…”

“I’ll be okay,” she said tightly. “Now, hurry up before someone notices we’ve killed the monarchs.”

Kell tried to laugh, and something shot through him, like pain but darker. He doubled over, his vision blurring.

“Kell?” Lila dropped to her knees beside him. “What is it? What’s happening?”

No, he pleaded with his body. No. Not now. He was so close. So close. All he had to do was—

Another wave sent him to his hands and knees.

“Kell!” demanded Lila. “Talk to me.”

He tried to answer, tried to say something, anything, but his jaw locked shut, his teeth grinding together. He fought the darkness, but the darkness fought back. And it was winning.

Lila’s voice was getting further and further away. “Kell … can you hear me? Stay with me. Stay with me.”

Stop fighting, said a voice in his head. You’ve already lost.

No, thought Kell. No. Not yet. He managed to bring his fingers to the shallow gash across his stomach, and began to draw a mark on the cracked stone. But before he could press his stone-bound hand against it, a force slammed him backward to the ground. The darkness twined around him and dragged him down. He fought against the magic, but it was already inside him, coursing through his veins. He tried to tear free of its hold, to push it away, but it was too late.

He took one last gasp of air, and then the magic dragged him under.

*   *   *

Kell couldn’t move.

Shadows wove around his limbs and held like stone, pinning him still. The more he fought, the tighter they coiled, leeching the last of his strength. Lila’s voice was far, far away and then gone, and Kell was left in a world filled with only darkness.

A darkness that was everywhere.

And then, somehow, it wasn’t. It drew itself together, coiling in front of him, coalescing until it was first a shadow and then a man. He was shaped like Kell, from his height and his hair to his coat, but every inch of him was the smooth and glossy black of the recovered stone.

“Hello, Kell,” said the darkness, the words not in English or Arnesian or Maktahn, but the native tongue of magic. And finally, Kell understood. This was Vitari. The thing that had been pulling at him, pushing to get in, making him stronger while weakening his will and feeding on his life.

“Where are we?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“We are in you,” said Vitari. “We are becoming you.”

Kell struggled uselessly against the dark ropes. “Get out of my body,” he growled.

Vitari smiled his shadowy black smile and took a step toward Kell.

“You’ve fought well,” he said. “But the time for fighting is over.” He closed the gap and brought a hand to Kell’s chest. “You were made for me, Antari,” he said. “A perfect vessel. I will wear your skin forever.”

Kell twisted under his touch. He had to fight. He’d come so far. He couldn’t give up now.

“It’s too late,” said Vitari. “I already have your heart.” At that, his fingertips pressed down, and Kell gasped as Vitari’s hand passed into his chest. He felt Vitari’s fingers close around his beating heart, felt it lurch, darkness spilling across his tattered shirtfront like blood.