The physician was horrified by the prince’s request. He sounded just like Zhek. And he raised all the same concerns as Zhek. Shyla would have smiled, but she knew Timin was loyal and would do as commanded. And, sure enough, he agreed.

“We’ll see if they turn back into gemstones before I sacrifice my eyes,” the prince said. He snapped his fingers at his guards. “Keep her still.”

Four guards rushed her and held her down on the floor. Yates’ huge hands clamped around her head. The fear that had been simmering deep inside her chest boiled over, sending out searing darts of terror. Yates smiled down at her. Ice clutched her skin. She’d never seen him smile. One good thing about dying was she would never have to see it again.

Timin knelt next to her. His normally kind face creased in sympathy and sorrow as if he’d already pronounced her dead. The physician spread her right eyelid open. The small, curved, and oh-so-very-sharp blade descended toward her eye. She gripped one of the guards’ hands, blindly seeking comfort. He kindly squeezed back. Her thoughts spun with desperation. Need. To. Stop. This. Now.

“Wait!” she cried. “I’m still wearing the collar! The Eyes won’t turn back without magic.” She’d no idea if it was true or not.

Timin paused. The prince cursed. She was granted a few more moments as they discussed what to do. Time to think of a brilliant escape plan. Eventually, torques were brought in for everyone, including Timin. All she’d managed to do was delay the inevitable. And here she was, once again immobilized on the floor without any sudden epiphanies.

Then it was Timin, eyelid, blade, squeezing hands—two this time—and torques. The platinum gleamed in the trol light. She focused on the Invisible Sword symbol etched into the metal, hoping for some comfort. Instead that desperately needed epiphany sprang to life. Gathering all her magic in one giant scoop, she released it in one huge explosion of power.

Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!

They froze. She silently thanked the Sun Goddess as relief rushed through her.

Release me.

They did.

Back away.

They scooted back. She sat up, panting and shaking from her close call. Her magic still held them, even Yates—although he strained mightily so she needed to move fast. The prince’s expression was priceless—a combination of utter shock, fury, and murderous intention.

Their torques hadn’t protected them because they had been engraved with the old symbol of the Invisible Sword. Shyla had retaken the oath with the new symbol. The one with her extra embellishments. It had been her own conviction that she couldn’t get past those torques that kept her from doing it. Once she figured it out, she just needed a leap of faith.

She pushed to her feet, turned and— Seven hells!