“For now, it’s only a small number of th
e Navan. I will give you what you need to complete the task, but no more. As long as you are restoring my people, you will live.”
“And then?”
“And then you will try to persuade me to keep you alive. Our magic is connected, Kestra. If I must dispose of you, it will cause me great pain, I assure you.”
A hundred thoughts of what I wanted to say came to my mind, but I lacked the strength for any of them. Instead, I preserved what I had to reach out to the Ironhearts, ordering them into my service and hoping they listened. They had no reason to do so, other than possibly recognizing that my magic had the same signature as Endrick’s. I hoped they would believe that I could crush their hearts if they refused me, though at the moment, I lacked the strength to crush even a gnat.
“My people are here,” Joth said. “Begin.”
My eyes had been closed, but when I opened them, I was surprised at how well I could see the half-lives. I faintly recalled Endrick saying that he could see them, so it followed that I was now able to do so too. Hundreds of half-lives were in the room—I could see each one as though I were looking through a sheer veil. Their attention passed from Joth to me, wondering who would be called forward first for restoration. Wondering, no doubt, why Joth had said that for now, I would only be helping a small number of them.
At Joth’s prompting, a man stepped forward, wearing a stocking cap and a simple tunic and trousers with a rope for a belt. I reached out to him and gave everything I had to his restoration, then immediately felt a new surge of strength for the next to step forward, a woman similarly dressed. Perhaps his wife.
They were an odd choice for restoration, I thought. Clearly these were not people of high status or recognition, and Joth wasn’t paying them any particular attention as close friends or family.
But as I restored the man’s wife, I began to understand why he had chosen them. Joth did have his reasons.
And I had mine.
So I continued with the next in line, and the next, each time receiving a limited infusion of strength. Again and again I continued restoring his people in the order that Joth silently called them forward. I had no idea where he was getting his strength to continue this process, but since he wasn’t showing the slightest sign of weakening, he must have drawn in enormous amounts of strength before entering this room. Somewhere outside this palace, there must have been dozens of his victims, or more.
“Please let me rest,” I begged him.
“My people have not slept for an entire generation,” he said. “When they sleep, you sleep.”
“You don’t understand,” I said. “You are restoring my magic enough to help your people, but physically, I am empty. I will not do anything more until I’ve rested.”
“Keep going, or you will die here.”
Barely keeping my eyes open, I said, “I will die here if I keep going.”
His grip on my arm tightened; then suddenly he tilted his head and mumbled something under his breath, as if in conversation with someone.
Perhaps he had forgotten that with our connected magic, I was privy to what he was hearing, and I wasn’t sure what to think of it.
“The Halderian king has entered the palace” was the message.
Joth pulled me closer to him. “Did you know of this?”
“Know of what?” I replied.
Inside, my stomach was churning. Had Simon come as friend or foe?
Foe.
On more than one occasion, I had proven myself an enemy to him. If only he knew how ineffectual an enemy I was.
With that single thought, something within me awoke. I had Endrick’s magic. I was more powerful than this! Maybe I didn’t know everything Endrick had been capable of doing, and certainly I didn’t know how to use the magic I now had, but I would not play the victim any longer.
Perhaps Simon was an enemy now, but Joth was the greater threat. My only hope might be to use the one against the other.
I reached out once more to the Ironhearts, and despite my weakness, I found it easy to identify each individual. I knew in general where they were, and I knew if any were attempting to ignore my hold on them.
So I gave a slight squeeze on the hearts of every single soldier. Now I had their attention. Then I made sure they knew their orders. Their queen had need of them.
Joth faced the thirty people I had restored. I imagined they were nearly the same as what they had been before Endrick had cursed them: same age and clothing as before, same interests and abilities … or almost the same.