LOGINTHE TRAITOR’S END The walk to the throne room felt longer than the walk to the balcony. The palace was louder now. I could hear glass breaking in the lower levels and the heavy thud of boots on stone. The air was thick with the smell of old dust and fresh smoke.Demetrius was breathing hard. Each step made him flinch, but he wouldn't stop. He didn't look like a king anymore; he looked like a man who had walked through a fire and was surprised to still be alive."He’s in there," I whispered as we approached the Great Doors. "I can feel him.""Rhys," Demetrius said the name like it was a bitter seed in his mouth. "He was the one who kept the silver in my skin. He was the one who told me the people hated me. Every lie I believed... it started with him.""He’s a snake," I said, tightening my grip on his waist. "And snakes are only dangerous when you don't know where they are. We know where he is now."Demetrius looked at me. His face was pale, but his eyes were sharp. "Esmeralda, if this
THE KING RALLIESMy legs were shaking almost as much as his. The effort of pulling that silver out of him had left me hollow, like a well that had been pumped dry. But looking at Demetrius now, I knew I couldn't sit down.He was trying to stand. His hands were white where he gripped the edge of the bed. He looked like a man who had forgotten how to use his own bones."Wait," I said, reaching out to catch his elbow. "You aren't ready. Your heart... it’s still finding its rhythm again."Demetrius didn't look at me at first. He was staring at his own feet as they touched the cold floor. "They are in the Great Hall, Esmeralda. I can hear them. I can hear the way they talk about the city—like it’s a carcass they’re fighting over.""Let them fight," I argued. "We can get you out of the back way. Finn knows the tunnels.""No." He finally looked up. His eyes weren't the dead, metallic grey they used to be. They were a deep, dark blue, full of a pain that was finally his own. "I have spent yea
LIGHT AND TRUTHThe first thing I noticed was the silence. It wasn't the heavy, suffocating silence of the tomb I had been living in for years. It was different. It felt light, like the air after a storm has finally passed.I opened my eyes, expecting the familiar burn of the silver in my veins. I expected that cold, metallic itch that always told me I was more a machine than a man. But it was gone. My blood felt... warm. It felt like liquid life instead of liquid death.I tried to sit up, but my muscles felt like water. I groaned, the sound echoing off the high stone walls."Don't move," a voice said. It was Finn. He was sitting in a chair by the hearth, scrubbing grease off a dagger. He looked at me with a mixture of pity and old, hardened anger. "You’ve been through enough to kill three men, Demetrius. Just stay still.""Where is she?" I asked. My voice sounded thin, like a ghost’s.Finn nodded toward the far side of the bed.I turned my head, and there she was. Esmeralda. She was
THE HEALING POWERThe room was far too quiet. Now that we were back in the upper chambers, the distant sounds of the riot felt like they belonged to another world. Here, there was only the sound of Demetrius’s wet, shallow breathing and the frantic ticking of a clock on the wall.Finn paced by the window, his hands stained with soot. "We can’t stay here, Esme. The guards will realize the cellar door was forced. We have to move him.""Move him where?" I asked. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the King. His skin wasn't just pale anymore; it had a metallic, sickly sheen to it. "He’s dying, Finn. Not from a heart that won't beat, but from the silver. It’s inside him. It’s eating him from the inside out."I reached out and touched his hand. It was ice cold. Under the skin of his wrist, I could see the veins pulsing with a strange, dark gray light."You did what you could," Finn said, coming over to put a hand on my shoulder. "You brought him back once. No one can ask for mo
THE NEAR DEATHThe keys felt like lead in my hands. Every time they clinked together, the sound echoed off the damp stone walls like a funeral bell. I kept looking back at the door we had just closed. I could still see him in my mind—that gray man in that gray chair."Esme, stop looking back," Finn said. He was walking ahead of me, his torch flickering wildly. "We got what we came for. We need to get out of this hole before the whole palace comes down on our heads.""I know," I whispered. "I just... I didn't think he’d look like that. I wanted him to be a monster. It’s easier to hate a monster."Finn stopped and turned to look at me. The orange light of the torch made the shadows under his eyes look deep. "He is a monster, Esme. Just because he’s a tired one doesn't change what he did to your family. It doesn't change the people starving in the streets.""I know," I said, wiping a bit of sweat from my forehead. "But it feels like the air is leaving this place. Can you feel that? It’s
THE KING’S CHAMBERS The stairs to the north tower cellars were slick with moisture. Every step we took felt like we were walking into the mouth of some giant, sleeping beast. The air down here didn't move. It was thick with the smell of wet stone, old vinegar, and something else—something sweet and rotten that made the hair on my arms stand up."Watch your footing," Finn whispered. He held a small torch out in front of us, but the light seemed to get swallowed by the dark before it could hit the walls."I’m fine," I said, though my knees were shaking. "Just keep going. We have to be close."We reached the bottom, and the room opened up. It was a forest of wooden racks, most of them empty and broken. I remembered being a little girl and hearing stories about the King’s private collection of wines, things brought from across the sea that cost more than a whole village earned in a year. Now, it just looked like a graveyard.I counted the racks. One. Two. Three.Behind the third one, the







