Evil Twin

“Let me think on it.” Hot tears thickened her voice. “Give me time.”

Because she couldn’t bear to give an answer now.

“My king, my queen,” Jorin grated out. “Look ahead.”

Everything had blurred. She didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking for. Though Bane must have seen it. His body stiffened behind her, his arm tightening so that she could hardly breathe.

Like Jorin’s, his voice was little more than a quiet hiss. “What are they doing?”

“Standing,” Jorin said.

More undying beasts. Echo’s heart stilled in her chest. Her shaking fingers curled around Bane’s forearm, as if she might borrow his strength, his courage.

They appeared the same as those of yesterday—sagging flesh covered by clinging bits of ragged clothes, the horrendous jaws that seemed to split the skulls when their mouths opened.

But yesterday, the beasts had given wild chase. Now they only stood, unmoving, along the street.

Fear trembled through her voice. “Why are they not coming for us?”

Bane’s reply was a low, soothing rumble. “They were not doing this when you came before?”

“I saw no beasts at all. And just over there is the healer’s square.” She pointed down another street. “So I came by this way.”

“Could they be frozen with poison?” Bane asked Jorin, with a gentle squeeze of her waist that might have been an attempt to lighten her terror with a shared joke.

Instead it seemed a very, very good idea to have that poison close at hand, so that if the beasts did eat her…well, at least they might be frozen long enough for Bane to kill them.

“I think it is not a poison,” Jorin said slowly, studying them. “It is their nature to bunch up into packs. Yet they are not frozen together; they are spread out from each other.”

“Like guards,” Bane said with clear unease. “But who gives the orders? How would they give orders?”

“They must be under someone’s control,” Jorin agreed.

“A dark sorcerer,” Wain whispered, and icy shivers ran up Echo’s spine.

No one scoffed this time.

“What happens if we kill one?” Echo wondered. “Does it alert someone? Do they all wake up and attack?”

Bane and Jorin looked to each other. Jorin’s gaze moved to Echo for the barest moment.

Bane growled softly. “I will not lose control again.”

“I do not doubt, my liege.” Jorin bowed his head. “But you are our king now, not our general. It is my place to take the risk—and if all goes wrong, you can protect our queen.”

Echo heard the grinding of Bane’s teeth. But his warrior was right, and he gave no argument.

“As quietly as you can,” Bane told him.

Echo did not think she breathed even once as Jorin dismounted and approached a standing beast, sword at ready. But worse was the excruciating dread that followed in the endless silent moments after the beast’s head hit the pavers—waiting for the screams and howls, for the beasts to begin their chase.

But there was nothing.

More boldly, Jorin strode to the next and slayed the beast with a single swing of his blade.

He jogged back to where Bane and the warriors were waiting. “No response at all.”

“Yet.” With clenched jaw, Bane studied the streets. His gaze rose to the stone towers ahead. “Kill as many as you can. Quietly. Queen Echo and I will make our way to the castle.”

“Do you think to find answers there?”

“Or stone chambers where she can be protected until we clear the city.”

Jorin nodded, his gaze sweeping the silent streets. “I do not like this.”

“Nor do I,” Bane said grimly. “Though I like that they are easy to kill.”

“It is a fine change from what we are used to.” Jorin signaled to the warriors behind them. “But I think we’d best waste no time.”

“I agree. Seek shelter at the castle if you are overwhelmed. There seems not to be many, but we don’t know how far throughout the city they are spread out.”

Bane urged his horse forward, the clatter of hooves echoing off the buildings around them. The fortress gates were open. They rode directly up to the doors of the keep, then without dismounting, Bane nudged them open with his boot before riding into the main hall.

Because his horse was meat, too, Echo realized. If left outside, it would have no protection from the undying beasts if they attacked.

Dismounting, Bane reached up and lowered her to the stone floor. Gripping his sword in his right hand, holding hers with his left, he led her through the main hall. Arched stone ceilings soared overhead. Tapestries decorated the walls. Dead kings and queens watched their progress from portraits, their eyes following them along.

Despite the much grander scope, here was the same as so many other dwellings in Crolum. The air was cool and dank. Blood had splashed the floors and walls. Bones littered the chambers they passed.

He closed the door of each chamber after glancing in.