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Oh get real, spat Samara. Didnt you think how it would affectme the way you came barging into the pub like that? Jeren liked the looks the Holters cast Shan and Indarin less. None of them friendly. All the Feyna with her encountered hostility but it focused most keenly on her husband and his brother. It stung her to the soul. No. Its about time this was said. Samara swept her hair from her face, tossing it over her shoulder. She glowered at her father. I know you wish I was likeher. The word was vinegar on her tongue. “Because shes just likeyou. The protégé. I spent so much time on this, Dad, so much goddamn time. But you know what? Youre right. I should throw all this rubbish away. You’re right. Complete waste of time. I could just be a fucking taxi driver.”* * * Shan stared, helpless. He turned to Indarin but his brother just gazed at her, his face as stricken as Shan felt, aching inside as if all but pain was lost. She wears a long white nightdress. The hems are torn and the delicate embroidery is obscured beneath splashes of mud. In places, the material clings to her skin. Shes plump and pink. There are patterns on her flesh; serpentine sigils and jagged circles, daubed in sticky fingerprints on the ripe fruit of her skin. Her mind is a basket of slithering shapes, interweaving, gorging on one another. She cannot distinguish her own consciousness from the voices thatwhisper, sibilant, in the shushing of the trees and the fizzing of her blood. A mans voice reached him. Shan groaned, his body and mind dull with agony. Hed passed out at some point amid the torture of the Enchassas kiss. Bunking off. Truanting. Twagging, as they say in Yorkshire. Im supposed to be taking statements but Ive got two decent constables who can do the job for me, which means I get the chance to go stare at the view and hope that the clouds shift. If I had the time… Jeren grabbed a fistful of hair and slammed Maldrines face into the rockface of the wall. Let it go, Gabriel. I placed a hand on his arm. It has to be this way. I placed my arms behind my back, and Herald zip-tied them. Finally, her shell cracked and she wept for him, for herself, for the future she had lost forever. Jeren had no choice, Shan cut in, no longer surprised at the innate need he felt to defend her. Gilliads plans for her were unspeakable. And then? Shan spat out the words. Magic was a curse. If it stole that from Jeren, freed her of it, even so painfully, why call it dark? Marcus grinned. Hed been positive she would take the bait. Deal. He walked to the door. “Ill let you know what I decide. And he was right. She knew it. Knew it in her soul. What she was, and all she wanted. Violet tries to sit up. There is a man with dark hair in the corner of the room, watching the exchange. Hes old. Skinny. Neatly-dressed..