“If I’m insignificant, then I have no power to stop the Coracks.”
“You may not, but I do. Understand, my dear, that from this moment forward, there will be no choice, no path in which you have any chance to win.” The grip glove slid downward, leaving an icy trail down my neck, and stopped directly over my heart. “You’re afraid. But you shouldn’t be, for the worst of your fate has already happened.”
My heart seemed to tighten inside my chest, constricting, restricting my breaths. “What do you mean?”
“What do you know about the Ironhearts?”
My breaths came sharper. “You didn’t.”
“Some of my servants cannot be trusted, so I must have ways of ensuring their obedience.” He pressed in on my chest and the constriction tightened, making it nearly impossible to breathe. “I take a piece of their heart for myself. It allows me to sense disloyalty and, if necessary, I will then crush the traitor’s heart.”
He was doing it now, putting a squeeze on my heart that was making the details of this room fade around me. Pain shot through my limbs, making the darkness spin. Through harsh breaths, I asked, “Why not kill me here?”
“You’re returning to the Coracks, my dear. This time in my service.”
Finally, he released my heart, and tears streamed down my cheeks as I struggled to stay conscious. “I don’t know how to find them.”
“But they will find you. To make it easy, I’ve even rescheduled your wedding for two days from now and allowed that fool Basil to sneak a messenger out of Highwyn to them. They’ll bring you into their fold like a lamb, but you’ll be my wolf.”
“I won’t.”
“You will.” He showed me a stone embedded into his grip glove, one that looked like a pearl, only as gray and as lined as his face. “This will be my wedding gift to you, my dear. It will register everything you see and hear while you are with the Coracks. Once I get it back, I will have the means to find the Olden Blade. Then I will destroy them.”
At first, I wasn’t sure why he was telling me all this so freely. Then his grip glove returned to my forehead, and with a tremor of fear surging through me, I understood. “You’re taking my memory of this conversation?”
He laughed. “No, my dear. I’m taking much more than that.” His fingertips widened, then pressed down on the sides and top of my head. “I’ll take everything I want from you. Darrow, those three years in the Lava Fields, your training with a sword. I’ll take it all and rebuild your memories with ideas more suited to a loyal daughter of the Dominion.”
I squirmed, attempting to stop him, but I already felt his magic exploring my past, infecting my thoughts, ready to erase. The harder I fought it, the tighter he squeezed on my heart. “Please don’t do this!”
“I already am.” With his fingers pressing down on my brow, Endrick nodded toward a man in the corner of the room. “That is your father, Sir Henry, who loves you, and you love him. Every memory of a father is of him, is it not?”
More relaxed now, I smiled over at my father. “Of course it is.”
When my eyes roamed back to Endrick, he said, “You will forget every event that led to you finding the Olden Blade and becoming the Infidante, and everything that connected you to the Corack rebellion.”
I’d heard of the Corack rebellion. They were thugs and thieves and liars, and wholly unconnected to me, thankfully.
Endrick continued, “I am your king, and you will bow to me, obey my every command, and seek to serve me.”
“What is your command, my Lord?” That seemed to please him.
Lord Endrick repositioned his fingers and I drew in a gasp, feeling something—magic, perhaps?—shift away from my mind. “I have only one command, my dear, and I am burying it deep within your heart. You will not even remember my words until the time comes to act, but when you hear them, you will know that you must obey.”
“What must I do?”
He smiled, and I felt a pinch inside my chest. “There is a rumor of great concern to me. Find the Corack boy who brought you into Woodcourt and kill him. You have seven days in which to succeed. Fail to do this, and you will die.”
“Yes, my Lord.” I nodded at him, eager to obey, even as my father looked on with concern. I briefly wondered why.
Lord Endrick began brushing his hand across my forehead, and with each stroke I became increasingly tired. “Sleep now. When you wake up, you are Kestra Dallisor. You mean nothing to Antora save for one purpose, and that is to carry out my orders. You are mine, child. You are a weapon of the Dominion.”
My eyes were already growing heavy. His words floated through my head like tufts of clouds I might reach for but could never catch.
“What if she fails?” my father asked.
“I have another spy in place to ensure my success.”
His words seemed important, like they should have mattered to me somehow, but they didn’t. Nothing mattered.