“Kai!” Ruby’s will once again took control of our voice. “Go! Run!”
Kai shook his head, his gaze flinty as it latched on to Prince Eiko—Eurus. “You are no longer Prince Eiko. Are you?”
“Eiko is gone,” said Eurus.
“Then I don’t have to worry about hurting him,” said Kai. The bend of his knees, his wide-legged stance and posture all screamed his intention to fight.
“Kai, no!” I called out.
Fear had brought me partially back to myself, but the Minax struggled for dominance, bathing my mind in a cocktail of sweet numbness and a sense of futility. What does any of it matter? the thoughts said. Everything is fine.
I forced myself to focus on Kai and Arcus, on memories of my mother and grandmother, finding the parts of myself that feared and cared and hurt. I rejected the floating joy the Minax offered and grabbed at thoughts of affection, empathy—even grief. Every second was a power struggle between myself and the Minax. I phased in and out of awareness as a separate entity.
I was pulled from my self-absorption as fire flew from Eurus’s fists, or rather it was Prince Eiko’s fire coming from fists he no longer controlled. The attack caught Kai off guard, throwing him backward. He slid across the floor for several feet before coming to a stop. I took a step toward him, relieved when I saw his chest rise and fall.
“Leave him,” said Eurus. “He is of no consequence.”
I jerked to a halt. Arcus had moved beside me. Eurus’s gaze sharpened on him. If he meant to do to him what he’d done to Kai…
Fear broke through the remaining mist in my mind.
I’m Ruby, I thought, beating away the velvety layers of numbness wrapped around me, wresting my identity from the mind of the Minax. I’m in control.
I must have spoken aloud, because Eiko—Eurus—smiled condescendingly. “You are no longer merely a simple Fireblood girl. You are something more now. And though you will not live long enough to see the final triumph that comes from your sacrifice, your life will be given for a greater purpose. You will serve as host for the Minax as we travel to the Gate of Light. And when my Minax destroy the sentinels, I will break the bars that keep the Gate closed, so the rest of my living shadows will pour from where Cirrus trapped them in the Obscurum. So, you see? You’re not dying in vain. You’ll be remembered by the gods.”
“As the one who helped you unleash the Minax on the world?” I asked, more fully myself for the moment. “That’s not how I want to be remembered.”
His green eyes narrowed, but his smile widened. “Somehow you’ve retained more than a little of yourself, haven’t you? Remarkable. The Minax chose a strong host.”
The Minax inside me grew excited, murmuring something about a true vessel and Daughter of Darkness, and though I was careful not to form the words with my lips, I sensed that Eurus could hear its voice anyway.
He lifted a brow. “Are you certain, pet?”
The Minax eagerly answered yes, and then the heart-shaped scar near my left ear burned. I clapped my fingers over it, but Eurus stepped closer, grasped my wrist, and drew my hand firmly away. His eyes met mine, and even in the dim light, they looked brighter green than ever. “There is only one person on this earth my Minax would mark this way.” His eyes seemed to glow.
“You are my daughter.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
I HEARD ARCUS’S SHARP INHALATION. If it hadn’t been for the Minax half in control of my limbs, I’d have staggered. The moment was an echo of the queen’s revelation that I was her niece, but far less welcome. And my mind was still hazed with the Minax’s thoughts—chaotic and disordered, always striving to regain control. I wanted to refute Eurus’s claim, but I couldn’t even manage to open my mouth.
“Not truly my daughter.” Eurus’s satisfaction gleamed from Prince Eiko’s green eyes. “Not blood of my blood. My interfering mother, Neb, had long since forbade dalliances with fair mortals, I’m afraid. But your mother, the Sudesian princess, she was possessed by the Minax while you grew in her womb.”
“That’s a lie.” I’d meant to shout the denial, but the words emerged in a trembling whisper. I wanted to use my fire to attack him. I wanted to run. But my arms hung limp at my sides. It was as if I were made of stone and could only watch and listen, helpless to stop the words coming from his smiling mouth.
Eurus crossed his arms over his chest in a way that was eerily similar to what Eiko might have done. “Though I could not interfere with mortals, I have always had the ability to communicate with the two Minax I’d trapped in the frost and fire thrones. I decided on a small experiment: a mingling of the shadows with fire to create the first in a possible new race. A Child of Darkness.”
“No,” I whispered. My worst fear was coming true.
“I told the Minax to leave its host, the Fire King at that time, and inhabit his younger daughter, Princess Rota, who happened to be expecting a child.” He smirked at the memory. “An infant in a mother’s womb surrounded by the essence of the Minax, day in, day out. Things looked promising for a while after you came howling into the world. By the Minax’s account, you were a demonic little thing, with the characteristic quick temper of a Fireblood princess. But your mother didn’t seem to mind. She was tender and endlessly patient, barely showing signs that she’d been possessed for months. And when you were born, she shook off the Minax like a dog shaking off water.”
At the mention of my mother, a pang of grief pierced my heart, and then the power of the Minax eased the hurt back into numbness.
Eurus tilted his head to the side. “She was a problem. She kept soothing all your discontent into patience and your fury into love. Your darkness had no chance to grow. I decided to get rid of her, but before I could act, Rota took you away, somewhere far enough that the Minax could no longer sense her. I suspect Sage assisted her somehow. I have a few scores to settle with Cirrus’s favored mortal when I find her.”
I sensed the Minax rattling around in my mind, but it had grown almost placid, as if Eurus were telling it a bedtime story and it was soothed. I felt its leap of recognition when he mentioned my mother. Horror was laying siege to my body—thickening my throat, forcing beads of sweat to my forehead, twisting my stomach—but the Minax’s influence blocked the feelings from taking hold. I was trapped in a strange, echoing limbo between my own agonized reactions and the Minax’s numb indifference.
“But why did you want to create a Child of Darkness at all?” I asked hoarsely, half-lost in my inner battle.
“Why, the Child of Darkness was to be the first one. The first of a new race of Nightbloods. I want to create my own people, people who are strong enough to host the Minax permanently, people who will do my bidding. My living nightmares will leave the Obscurum and possess mortals… and I’ll rule the shadows. After all, Sud created Firebloods, and Fors”—he gestured to Arcus, who emanated deadly cold on my left—“made his walking icicles. It was my turn. I set out to create humans filled with the very essence of darkness. Nightbloods.”
A wisp of fear penetrated my mental haze. My first night on the ship, I’d dreamed of a creature with shadow arms spreading wide, as if the night itself longed to embrace me. My nightmare was coming true.
Eurus’s eyes glittered, his pupils dilated wide—little windows into a pitiless, obsessive mind. “But instead of creating my own people, the Minax scampered from person to person, using them up like an otter with a pile of clamshells, cracking them open and sucking out the meat before discarding them.”
“You weren’t creating. You were destroying. Taking away identity and free will.”
“Bah! Mortals would do far better if they relinquished control. You make a hash of everything anyway. You warred with each other before Frostbloods and Firebloods were created. The gods have merely made the conflicts more entertaining.”