Malik’s jaw hardened as the Handmaiden went to join the Queen. It was brief, and I wasn’t even sure if his reaction had anything to do with the summoning or not. The Handmaiden sheathed her swords along her thighs and stood perfectly still beside the Queen.

“A Revenant is an amazing thing.” Queen Ileana angled her body toward the Handmaiden. “A very old thing that fell out of favor all the way back when the gods walked among man,” she said, picking up the young woman’s braid and draping it over her shoulder. “They are faster than most Atlantians could hope to be. Perhaps even faster than a wolven. They are incredibly strong, even those vertically challenged as this one beside me.”

The young woman had said that she was many things when I’d questioned if she was a Handmaiden. She was also a Revenant, and we’d seen just how fast and strong she was.

And she didn’t look even remotely pleased at her height being referenced.

“They are exceptionally trained fighters, born with inherent skill. They are good for one thing.” The Queen smiled as she drew a thumb across the red-painted mask. “And that is killing.”

The Revenant’s strange eyes remained open, fixed on some point beyond us.

“Any mortal can become skilled at killing, can they not?” Queen Ileana asked. “But a Revenant isn’t really mortal. They are something else entirely.”

Queen Ileana nodded at a nearby knight. He strode forward, unsheathing a long-bladed knife. I stiffened as a sudden rush of desperation burned through me, leaving behind the choking smoke of hopelessness. It came from her—the Revenant—even as she stood there, expressionless, her gaze vacant. She didn’t want—

Malik jerked as if he were about to take a step forward but stopped himself a second before the knight thrust the knife into the female’s chest—into her heart.

Tawny cried out, smacking her hand over her mouth as I stepped back out of shock, bumping into Casteel. His eyes were wide as he watched the knight yank the knife free. Ian had turned his head away as the knight stepped aside. The lace of the Handmaiden’s tunic quickly became wet as she stumbled to the side and then went down on one knee.

Blood trickled out of her mouth as she stretched her neck back. “Ouch,” she rasped and then toppled to her side.

“She’s a fighter, too,” the Queen commented as a pool of red rapidly spread out from under her prone body. She looked up at Vonetta. “You. Check to see if she lives for me?”

Vonetta glanced at us and then started forward. She knelt and pressed her fingers against the side of the young woman’s neck. Swallowing, she shook her head as she pulled her hand back. “There’s no pulse, and I…I can smell it. Death.”

I had a feeling they weren’t talking about the same kind of scent they picked up from me.

Vonetta rose and quickly rejoined Emil and the others. “She’s dead.”