Page 149 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

Viridian, I tell him, as I stave off another strike that comes my way. Don’t hold back.

Across the way, I see Viridian raise his brows. All the while, he doesn’t miss a beat, launching a jab back at the rioters circling him.

You must know what that means, Little Fawn, he replies in my mind. Even mentally, his voice is tight. He doesn’t want to do this anymore than I do.

I sigh. I know. Strike to kill.

Viridian’s brows furrow, amber eyes raging like an endless storm. Electricity sparks to life around him, static blue energy circling his arms, from his fingertips all the way up to his shoulders. He thrusts out his palms, sending power buzzing through the floor.

The human rioters before us seize when it reaches them, their bodies going rigid with a jolt.

Then they all fall to the ground.

I raise the crown of my head, staring down at them. I should feel sorrow. Guilt, even.

But I don’t.

Instead, I only feel relief. Now, they can’t hurt us.

And maybe, since they’d succumbed to the mining sickness, we’ve spared them from a gruesome death. Though, I’m not sure if I believe that.

“Come,” Viridian motions for me to follow.

I do. Quickening our pace, we finish our sweep of the second floor. Doubting there’s anyone in the East Tower, all that’s left to search is the west wing of the castle. A weight lifts from my shoulders when we find it empty.

“It’s clear,” Viridian says, exhaling. He starts, as if to move ahead. “Let’s go meet the others.”

“Wait,” I say. Dread lines my stomach, squeezing a tight fist around it. Something in my gut tells me I can’t leave the castle. Not yet. “The throne room.”

“What about it?” Viridian asks, jaw tight with concern.

“I’m not sure,” I murmur, looking up at him. “But I know something’s wrong.”

His expression turns grim, the corners of his mouth pinched. “Little Fawn…” He sounds as if he’s begging me to reconsider. To walk away now, while I still can.

I know where his mind is going.

Mine goes there, too.

And it is for that very reason I must go to the throne room.

He lets out a breath, hanging his head. “Very well.”

I nod to him, and then we swiftly descend the main staircase. Taking a sharp turn toward the throne room, I press my palms to the double doors, forcing them open.

“Stay where you are,” a voice warns, every syllable laced with a threat. “Or the girl gets it.”

My eyes wide, I freeze, my hands still outstretched to hold the doors open around Viridian and me.

Viridian’s hand grips my shoulder, as if to hold me back. But my mind doesn’t register the movement.

All I can do is stare.

Horror fills me. My eyes find Tiffy. She clutches her attacker’s arm with both hands, so tightly that her knuckles have turned white. She breathes deeply, and though her jaw is tense with fear, she maintains a level expression.

I lower my gaze and tilt my head down when I glare.

There’s a dagger pressed to Tiffy’s throat.

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