Stars May Fall (Stars May Burn #2)

32. Kasten

KASTEN

I t was hard to enter my normal calm that helped me think quickly and clearly on the battlefield. Sophie was beside me, surrounded by enemies, and I couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Still, right now, I didn’t entrust her safety to anyone else. I wanted her by my side where I could defend her. If she was out of my sight, I knew I would be too distracted with worry.

The image of her lying dead flashed back from my nightmare, and I scowled as I pushed it from my mind. I glanced at her, yet again, and was impressed by her determined quietness. She looked fragile and out of place in her delicate cream dress of chiffon and silk, her white leather medical bag at her waist, surrounded by people brandishing weapons. But she was composing herself well considering the only other time she’d been involved in fighting was when she’d been bitten by a halfsoul. The memory made me step even closer to her. This time, I had the power of the starstone. I wouldn’t fail her again.

The servants’ passage was wide enough for two people to walk abreast and lit by oil lamps, their fragile flickering light foreign to me after living with kryalcomy lights in my home. The poor lighting made the uneven floors and tight flights of stairs more treacherous, which slowed us down. There were too many turns for Annabelle’s crossbows to be effective, so I took the lead, keeping Sophie only one step behind me. Meena brought up the rear. Thankfully, the throne room had many servants’ entrances since it was often used for state functions.

I adjusted my grip on my sword. Lyrason wouldn’t have gone into this without a plan. I just had to hope the starstone and my own abilities were greater than he had anticipated. Not to mention Annabelle. Even I would have underestimated her. She strode behind me with her loaded crossbow angled down and pure murder in her eyes. She had shed the outer layer of her dress to reveal shorter, plain skirts underneath with skirts divided for riding and had changed her heels for boots. I didn’t even know you could take layers off dresses like that.

And if Lord Venerick, Callum, and Sir Luke had kept to the plan and stopped Duke James and the city guard as well as created general chaos at that end of the city, Lyrason wouldn’t have many troops in reserve.

We slowed as we neared the passageway that entered the musicians’ gallery, and all of us took care to not hit the walls with our weapons or tread too heavily. We didn’t want the sound to carry and give us away.

I lifted my hand to tell those behind me to stop and crept forward to the door. It was locked. I took out my fansifold knife and melted through the latch, hoping the smell of singed wood would go unnoticed.

There was a satisfying click. I sheathed the rapidly cooling knife, drew my steel one, and tentatively opened the door. Thankfully, the hinges were silent. Three guards were in the gallery; all stood close to the edge, past the musicians’ seating, their backs were to us and their focus occupied by whatever was going on below. The room was noisy; the sounds of many unseen people on the floor bouncing off the walls.

I refused to be distracted by what was going on below but crept over the tiered seating, bolted to the floor, toward the guards below. The noise from the room made it easy to get close. I slit the throat of the first guard before anyone noticed, and he crumpled silently. The second guard turned at the movement, but I felled him before he could cry out. The third guard stumbled back in alarm, drawing his sword. He tripped on the low seat behind him and fell. I didn’t give him the chance to regain his balance.

I stepped back at once; the carved banisters that lined the gallery were spaced widely enough for people below to see the edge of the fight. When there were no raised voices or shouts, I dragged the bodies back and crouched to look down between the rails at the throne room below.

There had to be at least fifty soldiers, a mixture of royal guards and soldiers with Lyrason’s house colors on their tunics. The throne on its pedestal was empty except for the king’s ceremonial crown, which somebody must have retrieved from the treasury. It was only worn at coronations.

Lyrason and Gregane stood in the center of the room. I turned my detector to its most sensitive and caught several keening moans, the loudest two coming squarely from the center.

Lyrason had never set off my alarm before. He was probably now absorbing vitality from halfsouls. If he wore a device to stop the signal to my detectors, it would interrupt the connection between the two poles and so stop the flow of vitality. He had no choice but to ring loud and clear to us.

I scooted away from the edge and checked the main door onto the gallery. It was locked from the inside, the key still in place, and a bolt pushed shut at the top. I left it unaltered for now.

I went back to the servants’ door and ushered the rest of us through, using hand motions to remind everyone to stay quiet.

Annabelle went straight to the edge of the balcony and crouched, raising her crossbow. “I’ve got a clear shot. If I take out Lyrason, they will likely fall into disorder.”

I grunted. “He’s using kryalcomy, and I suspect he will have extra vitality from halfsouls. It will need to be a clean kill, or he will heal. It’s a long way for an exact shot. If you miss, we’ll blow our cover and arrows will be shot in return.” I motioned for the rest of our party to stay against the back wall away from sight and out of range.

She deepened her breaths. “I’ll take the chance. You can block incoming arrows using your kryalcomy, correct? Even yadum tipped ones?”

I couldn’t help a small smile at her self-confidence. “I can.”

I glanced back to make sure Meena was keeping Sophie far from the edge. Nobody could harm her back there.

Jared settled into position with the other crossbow beside Annabelle. “If we shoot at the same time, we’re more likely to make the kill.”

Annabelle nodded, her movements becoming more purposeful. She repositioned in her half crouch and aimed between the gallery rails. “On my count. Three. Two. One. Shoot.”

Both crossbow strings snapped forward at the same time, the bolts sailing downward. I held my breath. A white explosion similar to the one in the king’s office cracked through the room, scattering guards and knocking dozens to their feet. It looked like it didn’t just block my kryalcomy, but normal missiles too.

When the explosion cleared, one crossbow bolt lay shattered, but the second was embedded in Lyrason’s thigh. The whine on my detector from his direction intensified.

Jared quickly reloaded, sitting back from the balcony edge so he could sit straighter as he pulled back the string into the catch. “The normal bolt got destroyed. The yadum tipped one only got deflected. Shoot again. Yadum bolts only. It’s going to be hard to make a clean kill.”

I glanced at him, keeping still in the shadow of the wall, my eyes on Lyrason as the chaos beneath us shifted. Fingers pointed our direction, and crossbows were drawn. Lyrason pulled the bolt out of his own thigh with much less pain than he should have. He pressed his hands down to staunch the blood, but it already seemed to be healing.

“Hold!” he shouted to his guards.

I held up my hand to Annabelle and Jared as Lyrason locked eyes with me. They both aimed but held. My eyes darted back to Sophie. She was safe, but creeping closer to the edge of the gallery to observe what was going on. At her angle close to the far wall, it would be hard for anyone to see her, let alone hit her with an arrow. Still, I angled my body toward her so I could dive if needed.

Lyrason smiled up at the gallery. “You shoot at me again, and I will kill my two guests.” He beckoned and one of the side doors opened. Guards dragged in two men with sacks over their heads, their hands tied behind their backs, though they both kicked out with their legs. One was at least a head taller than the other. Apprehension grew in my stomach, quickly turning to cold realization as I analyzed one prisoner’s bright clothes. Lyrason had moved faster than I’d thought possible.

Lyrason strode up to the men without even limping, a calm expression on his face. He pulled off the sacks to reveal Callum and Second Prince Clarence.