Page 164 of Children of Blood and Bone

Saran’s eyes narrow, but I can’t be silent. Not when my blood boils and my muscles shake to break free.

I will not let my fear silence the truth.

“You crushed us to build your monarchy on the backs of our blood and bone. Your mistake wasn’t keeping us alive. It was thinking we’d never fight back!”

Inan steps forward, jaw taut, eyes traveling back and forth between us. The fury in Saran’s gaze flares as he lets out a long, low chuckle.

“You know what intrigues me about your kind? You always start in the middle of the story. As if my father didn’t fight for your rights. As ifyoumaggots didn’t burn my family alive.”

“You can’t enslave an entire people for the rebellion of a few.”

Saran bares his teeth. “You can do whatever you want when you’re the king.”

“Your ignorance will be your downfall.” I spit in Saran’s face. “Magic or not, we won’t give up. Magic or not, wewilltake back what’s ours!”

Saran’s lips curl back in a snarl. “Brave words for a maggot about to die.”

Maggot.

Like Mama.

Like every brother and sister slaughtered by his command.

“You’d be wise to kill me now,” I whisper. “Because you’re not getting any of the artifacts.”

Saran smiles slow and sinister like a jungle cat.

“Oh, child.” He laughs. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

INAN

THE WALLS OF THE CELLARclose in. I’m trapped in this hell. It takes everything in me to stand, not to buckle under Father’s glare. But while I can barely breathe, Zélie rises. Defiant and fiery as ever.

No regard for her life.

No fear for her death.

Stop, I want to scream over her.Don’t talk!

With each word, Father’s desire to break her grows.

He pounds against the door. With two sharp knocks, the metal door flies open. The fortress physician walks in, flanked by three lieutenants; all fix their gazes on the floor.

“What’s going on?” My voice comes out hoarse. It’s hard to speak through the strain of suppressing my magic once more. Sweat pours down my skin as another blast of heated air funnels through the vent.

The physician glances at me. “Does Your Highness—”

“You’re under my orders,” Father interrupts. “Not his.”

The physician scurries forward, drawing a sharp knife from his pocket. I stifle a cry as he slices into Zélie’s neck.

“What’re you doing?” I yell. Zélie grits her teeth as the physician digs with his blade.

“Stop!” I shout in panic.Not now. Not here.

I start forward, but Father presses his hand into my shoulder so hard I nearly stumble. I watch in horror as the physician cuts a shallow X into Zélie’s neck. With an unsteady hand, he pushes a thick, hollowed-out needle into the exposed vein.

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