The Sharpest Blade

“Six hours? I don’t need more than one or two.”

Lee shrugs. “You’re the one who wanted to drug him.”

His nonchalance annoys me. I’m furious at Kyol, but I don’t want to harm him. Lee, though? He doesn’t care about him at all. He doesn’t care about any of the fae. Both he and Naito were raised to hate them, and while Naito’s completely shaken off that brainwashing, his brother hasn’t. He still doesn’t trust the fae.

Lee lets out a sigh. “I promise he’ll be fine.”

I have to accept him at his word.

I turn to Naito. “I can’t give this to Kyol. He’ll know I’ve done something to it.”

“You should be able to hide your emotions better,” Naito says, standing. “I’ll make sure he gets it. Here, you’ll need this.” He takes the bottle, then places a gun in my hand. It’s not as heavy as the firearms I’ve held before, but a similar feeling of discomfort moves through me when I tighten my hand around the metal grip. The barrel of the gun looks odd, most likely because bullets aren’t fired from it. Specially made darts are.

“How does it work?” I ask.

“You pull the trigger,” Lee says.

I roll my eyes at him. “How does the tranquilizer work? Will the fae go down immediately?”

“They’ll be disoriented immediately. Most lose consciousness within twenty seconds.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Shoot them again,” he says. “Then give them one of these if you want them to live.”

He hands me a thin black case. Inside are twelve syringes prefilled with a pale yellow liquid.

“What does this do?” I ask.

“It’s adrenaline and some other drugs. It acts like an antidote. The tranquilizer will screw with their circulatory system. If they don’t get this, they’ll go into cardiac arrest.”

Fantastic.

“What about Kyol?”

Lee shakes his head. “We’re giving him a sedative. It takes longer to work, but it doesn’t have the same side effect.”

“I’ll be with you most of the time,” Naito says. “I’ll make sure they’re okay.”

I just nod and slip the gun into my backpack with my other supplies. Tranquilizing the fae is the best option we have. As much as I dislike Hison, he’s not exactly an enemy. Neither are the people who work for him. I don’t want to hurt or kill them, but I won’t let them hurt or kill Aren either. I’m going to get him out of the palace, make sure he makes it to the other side of the silver wall, then he’s going to fissure back to my world.

After that, Lena will hunt him down. She doesn’t know this yet—Naito and I haven’t told her our plan—but we have to make sure she isn’t blamed for this. We’ll fake Aren’s death, then, after a few months, he can return to the Realm. Not to Corrist, of course, but there are plenty of places to go where people won’t recognize his face.

Half an hour later, the wooziness hits Kyol. I lean against the wall, focusing on a crack in the mortar between two gray bricks to make sure my world stays steady. Kyol’s up and moving still, and he’s pissed. I can feel his focus shift to me—there’s no doubt in his mind I’m behind this—then his emotions dim suddenly. I can picture him hitting his knees, see him brace a hand against the floor, struggling to stay awake, to fight the drugs running through his system. Within minutes, he’s unconscious.

I clench my teeth together, refusing to feel guilty for something I’ve been forced to do.

Dragging my backpack across the table, I sit in a chair to wait. Lena is supposed to be meeting with the high nobles in a couple of hours. Naito’s going to keep an eye out for Hison, and when he arrives, Naito will meet me in the servants’ corridor that leads to the high nobles’ offices. I’m certain that’s where I felt Kyol stop earlier when he talked to Aren. Since we’re within Corrist’s silver walls, all the nobles have only minimal security here. We expect Hison will have more because of his prisoner, but Naito and I should be able to take care of all of them with our tranq guns.

Lee loaned me his cell phone, and Naito has his. They obviously don’t get reception here, but they keep track of Earth’s time, which is what we’re going by. I wait impatiently for the hours to pass, and try to picture this plan working, not failing. But I’m sick with worry, and every time I close my eyes, I see Aren’s execution. The fae behead kingkillers. It’s considered a cruel and dishonorable death because it’s the only way to prevent the fae from crossing to the ether, the fae equivalent of heaven. I can’t let Aren die, especially not like that.

When the two hours pass, I throw on a cloak, grab my backpack, then make a beeline for the servants’ corridor. My adrenaline is pumping when I slip into the darkened space. I lean against the wall, feel my tranq gun press against the small of my back. The case of syringes is tucked inside my backpack. Just so I’m ready, I take two of those syringes out, keeping them more accessible.

My heart thumps in my chest. It’s so hard to keep still. I need Naito to get his ass here. The servants access this corridor mostly during the early mornings and late evenings, but it’s not entirely unlikely that someone will pass through here in the middle of the day.

Finally, I hear footsteps. It’s the first set I’ve heard in what feels like a millennium, so I’m not surprised when they come into my darkened corridor without hesitation. I am surprised, however, when the face I recognize belongs to Lorn, not Naito.

“McKenzie,” Lorn says, his eyes ridiculously wide. “Why in the name of the Sidhe are you here?”

My nostrils flare. He knows exactly why I’m here.

“Where’s Naito?” I demand.

“He’s with a few of my associates. He regrets that he won’t be able to aid you in this”—he waves a hand in the air as if he’s grasping for the right word—“this little quest of yours.”

“You’re here to stop me,” I say, my voice flat.

“I’m here because I made a promise.”

“A promise to whom?” I demand, taking a step toward him.

“A promise to myself, of course,” he says, as if I shouldn’t expect him to give his word to anyone else. “I intend for Naito to have a long and prosperous life. This desperate and doomed jailbreak would likely prevent that.”

“God,” I say, more loudly than I should.

“God?”

“You’re all the same.”

An eyebrow lifts.

“You all look down on us. On humans. You think we’re weak just because we weren’t born with swords in our hands and because we can’t fissure without a fae. You treat us like tor’um. Those of you who don’t shun us think we need to be taken care of. We don’t. We can make our own decisions, and I’m sick of you trying to take them away from us.”

“Impressive speech, McKenzie, but Lena’s meeting with the high nobles has already adjourned. Hison will be back with his guards any minute now. You won’t have Naito’s help on this.”

My chest tightens painfully, and the fear I’ve been holding back threatens to take over. My hands shake.