One, maybe two heartbeats, and her breaths turned to ragged pants.

A scream rattled the hall when Vella dropped. Blood bubbled over her lips in foamy pink. She shuddered and convulsed, desperately reaching for the captain’s leg.

The Sentry glanced over his shoulder, scrutinizing my every move.

If I was to die, he would know of my disdain. Eyes narrow and sharp, I held his gaze.

Ashwood had the gall to smirk, as though utterly pleased with the pain in this hall.

Another breath slid from Vella, but once it was spent, there was not another.

Tears blurred my sight. I didn’t want to see the truth, but like a rope tugged against my face, I looked.

Foamy blood painted her lips. Vella was flat on her back.

Dead. She was dead.

6

Lyra

Rosewood bark was harmless unless it was boiled down to the green center. There was a pale berry in the Fernwood Kael and I nicknamed as venom fruit after we realized the juices caused blisters on our skin. Fire vine, a red-leafed ivy, reacted fiercely with whatever differences divided craft in the blood from folk without magic.

The red flakes in the captain’s palm could be any combination of toxic herbs.

Hatred filled me like flames. I wanted to drive the knife tethered to my calf through the softest point of the captain’s throat. I wanted to watch blood fountain over his lips the same as it had flowed from Vella.

I could hardly draw in a deep enough breath to fill my lungs.

Ashwood never looked away. The swirling gold of his eyes was harsh, like a rogue flame looking for a bit of skin to scorch.

He was the true fiend here. Whatever signal Ashwood gave, the captain merely reacted.

“See to them.” Baldur waved a hand toward nearby guards, and they scattered through the hall.

The Stav were swift as snakes in the grass and blocked anyone in the hall from reaching the four of us, bent and hunched on the floorboards.

Baldur took slow, deliberate steps in front of the hall. “Craft has been revered as a true gift of the gods. The choice to use it in the service of your king has always been yours. So, to be met with such indifference, such deceit, it is a slight in these tumultuous times our king cannot ignore.”

Edvin’s jaw ticked. “You say we are revered, yet now we must submit”—he glanced at Vella’s unmoving form—“or we die?”

Baldur chuckled. “The blood crafter was not truly one of you and brought her own fate. More than her lies, it is believed she used blood spells to weaken patrols, to bring disease to our Stav.”

“You murdered her.” The jagged words rolled over my lips before I could think better of it.

“Ly,” Kael rasped through his teeth, a flare of desperation in his eyes. “Shut up.”