Page 161 of A Dance of Shadows

In an instant, they catch a splatter of the wine Linus splashed around before. With a sharper crackling, the fire whips across the rug, sprouting up in a flickering path along all those trails of spilled alcohol.

I barely have time to cry out before the fire has raced all the way to the bed. The flames shoot up the wine-spattered footboard and across the covers, surging higher with an ominous warble.

As heat wafts over me, Coraya’s lips part with a cry of her own. She squirms in my arms.

I stroke her back and let out a shushing sound in an attempt to calm her, stepping to the side to try to find a safe route to the door. My legs wobble in warning.

The fire crawls toward us, expanding by the second. We’re completely cut off.

My gaze darts to the window behind me, but I can picture the three-story drop far too clearly. There’d be no surviving that.

I’ve walked through fire before… but not while already so weakened. Not while carrying a newborn. And my hair and clothes were drenched from the river to ward off the worst of the heat.

Marc’s stance has gone rigid, his eyes wide but dazed. Clearly he hadn’t anticipated the flames spreading so quickly.

He starts toward me, but another stream of fire crackles across the rug between us. Spitting out a curse, he jerks his head around. He lunges back to the vanity to grab the water pitcher.

For a fleeting instant, hope glimmers in my chest.

Then a groan carries from the other side of the room.

To my horror, Linus is moving. Through the wavering flames, I make out his slumped form as he drags himself across the floor by his arms. His legs remain limp behind him. With a cough, more blood sputters from his lips.

He’s crawling toward the other window.

He has to know he wouldn’t survive that fall any more than I would. It’s astonishing he’s alive even now.

But along with the next bloody cough, he grates out a few words. “You won’t burn me away.”

Marc’s stance wavers, his attention veering between his twin and me. Flames are hissing across the rug between the brothers now too—there’s no easy path to stop Linus.

My momentary hope snuffs out.

If Linus manages to escape this room and the fire, everyone will witness his death. Marc won’t be able to claim the throne without revealing the deception they perpetuated for so long.

If he abandons me to ensure Linus dies here, what is he really losing? A faithless wife and an heir who’s not really his own. He’ll keep the throne without controversy, have noblewomen from across the continent volunteering to soothe his loss, get a chance at real heirs and a lover who never schemed to murder him…

It isn’t really a choice, is it? He’d be mad to save me rather than himself.

The fire creeps even closer to me, nipping at the rug just inches from my feet. Smoke prickles into my lungs and draws tears from my eyes.

I clutch Coraya closer, shifting my feet so I can propel myself toward the door as fast as I can—for that one unlikely chance?—

Marc hurls the contents of the pitcher onto the trail of flames between him and me.

I can only gape at him as he sprints across the soggy, blackened rug. He wraps his arms around both me and my daughter with a tug back the way he came.

There’s only a thin line of fire if we head in that direction. Maybe we can all make it safely…

On the other side of the flames behind Marc, Linus pulls himself up to the window ledge. His fingers scrabble at the latch.

He shoves the pane wide, and the fire roars with the sudden gust of fresh air.

More flames rush across the rug in front of the door. I tuck Coraya’s face as close against my chest as I dare to shield her from the smoke, my lungs heaving with a wracking cough.

Linus’s hoarse cackle breaks through the haze. His voice has gone thready, but I make out enough.

“You can’t erase me. Everyone will see!”

---