Page 158 of The Mirror of Beasts

“Unless, Beastie, you’d like to take the dagger in your hand,” the sorceress continued, “and plunge it into the pretty little heart I made for him? You can take your chances that cutting his hand off would be enough, but, of course, he does possess another one.”

Our mortal lives had always been a game to her. I’d known that from the moment I’d met her. Even now, we were little better than entertainment.

“You sick freak—” I spat at her, the word strangling off as Emrys’s hand tightened. His face was a stony mask, but a noise of pure, raw pain built in his chest. His other hand captured mine, drawing it and the dagger’s razor-sharp tip to just above his heart.

“Go on, Beastie,” Madrigal encouraged. “Do it.”

His eyes were pleading for it. Begging. His grip on my neck tightened again, until I couldn’t draw another breath at all.

“Fine,” Madrigal said, pouting. “Bring her to me, pet.”

She took a step toward us, beckoning with her hand. The movement drew my eye down to the point of her shoe—and what lay a few feet away from it.

Shadows crept in at the edge of my vision as I fought to breathe. That terrible look was still in his eyes—they shone, silver and emerald, in the strange light.

When Emrys moved, I was forced to follow. Any resistance would have pushed the dagger into his skin. One step. Two.

Madrigal’s lips curled as she raised her wand.

Then, with what strength I had left, I hooked my foot under the hilt of the sword Emrys had dropped and kicked it as hard as I could in her direction. The blade spun, tearing through the smoke, revealing the curse sigil the instant before the hilt scraped over it.

The floor splintered around her, and before she could raise her wand, it collapsed, plunging her down into the darkness of the cellar.

Emrys gave a ragged gasp as the hold on him released, and his muscles relaxed. He ripped his hands away from me, and smoky air filled my lungs again. I bent at the waist, touching my throat, trying to steady myself.

“Are you all right? Tamsin? Are you okay?” Emrys asked frantically, lifting me upright, crushing me to him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the sudden urge to cry. He was shaking, and as he pulled back, his hands skimming over my neck, he looked sick with grief.

I gripped his wrists. “I’m all right. I’m—we—” I drew in a deeper breath. “We have to find Neve.”

He nodded, his eyes still lingering on my face. “Right. Yeah. I think—there should be another way up over here.”

He led me away from the entrance hall, toward the western wing, where the smoke seemed to be emanating from. But as he reached the arch that separated the foyer from the hall, his running steps slowed so suddenly, I collided with his back.

“What?” I asked, searching for the threat. “This damn smoke—I can’t see anything …”

That wasn’t true. As I turned, I could see his face. The strange expression there, confusion and fear in his eyes.

“Emrys?”

He staggered forward, gasping as he clutched at his chest.

“Emrys!”

He collapsed onto his knees, coughing, splattering blood onto the stone floor.

“What? What’s wrong?” I dropped beside him, catching him by the shoulders, but his weight made it impossible to keep him upright. He fell across my lap, coughing up more blood. “Emrys!”

Emrys’s words in Lyonesse returned to me like a knife in the ribs. She had made me a new heart.

“No!” I shouted. “Please!”

She told me some part of my heart would aways beat for her.

Emrys gripped my arm, fighting for his breath. Blood dribbled over his lips, and his skin had taken on a deathlike pallor.

She could unmake it just as easily.

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