Keefe looked like he was trying to thrash and kick, but his body wouldn’t—couldn’t—move.
“It’s the magsidian,” King Enki told him. “I carved new facets in the throne this morning to make it draw body heat. There’s no way you can resist the pull. So I’d save your energy. It sounds like you’re going to need it.”
With that he stood tall and turned to Lady Gisela and said, “My debt is fulfilled—do your ceremony.”
“It’s not a ceremony,” Lady Gisela corrected. “It’s a transformation. The beginning of a brilliant new legacy. And it starts now.”
FIFTY
SO… MY LEGACY IS… KING of the dwarves?” Keefe asked, trying for a smirk—but it looked too much like a grimace. “Gotta admit, I did not see that coming!”
And somewhere out of Sophie’s line of sight, there was a very loud sigh.
“You really will make a joke out of anything, won’t you?” Lady Gisela asked from the same direction.
“Um, you just had King Enki shove me onto his throne and crown me—what else am I supposed to think?” Keefe argued. “Where is he, by the way? I feel like he owes me a bow—and an ‘As you wish, King Keefe!’ ”
He tried to crane his neck to search the shadowy Grand Hall, but the pull of the altered magsidian throne must’ve been too strong to allow him the motion.
Sophie wasn’t having much better luck with her own ability to move.
The dwarf pinning her to the scratchy, sandy floor was hypervigilant—never lightening the pressure on her back and shoulders, even when it made Sophie cough. And the ropes binding her hands and feet were so tight, even the slightest twitch made them slice into her skin.
Part of her wanted to thrash anyway.
She could handle the pain.
But… she was the only one from their group—besides Keefe—who was still conscious. And while she was sure that wasn’t an accident, she didn’t want to give Keefe’s mom any reason to change her mind.
So she held still.
Swallowing her questions.
Thinking, thinking, thinking.
Trying to come up with a way out of this.
“The king left,” Lady Gisela told Keefe. “Said something about not wanting to witness the further desecration of a royal relic and dived into the floor—and I suppose I can’t blame him. It is a lovely throne. But I need the magsidian. And the ethertine in your crown. I had that made specially for you, by the way. Just for this. And it wasn’t easy. It was even harder convincing King Enki to wear it as his own to keep anyone from getting too suspicious. But it was worth it—everything came together, despite the few hiccups we had along the way.”
“Am I supposed to say thank you?” Keefe wondered.
“Yes, Keefe, you should. And someday, you will. For now, you’re welcome to keep hating me.”
“Didn’t realize I needed your permission for that, but okay. Great!”
Yet another sigh. “I resigned myself to the role of the ‘bad guy’ long ago, Keefe. It’s unfair. And inaccurate. But if that’s how you need to see me to process what’s about to happen—so be it.”
“Uh, it’s not about what I need. Like… are you seeing this situation? You attacked all my friends. Left them all unconscious over there—”
“Not all of them,” Lady Gisela corrected. “Sophie’s still awake—for now. In case we need her.”
Sophie’s heart stalled at the sound of her name.
And there was no need to stay silent anymore, so she asked, “Need me for what?”
“To ensure my son cooperates.”
There was a dark edge to the words that made it clear she wouldn’t be looking to Sophie for pep talks.
“Now that we understand each other,” Lady Gisela said firmly, “we should get started. The deal I made with King Enki only buys me so much of his patience.”
“What’d you have to give him?” Keefe asked.
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
“Aw, come on—I’m curious! Like, what’s the going price for ultimate betrayal these days? And was the ‘ruining your son’s life’ part of the fee—or was that just a fun bonus?”
He nailed the joke almost perfectly—but Sophie still caught the hurt laced through it.
And she wondered how his mother could reject it so easily.
But Lady Gisela stalked closer—finally stepping into Sophie’s line of sight—and Sophie’s hands clenched into fists at the way she loomed over her son. “For the last time, I’m not destroying anything. I’m allowing you to become something vital. And I need you to accept that, because the harder you fight what’s about to happen, the more you’ll suffer.”
“That’s riiiiiiiiiight,” Keefe said, and the smugness in his tone made Sophie wonder if he’d be propping up his feet and slouching across the throne if he were capable of moving in that moment. “I’m supposed to—how did you put it? ‘Embrace the change’? Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaah. Hate to break it to you, but… I’m not feeling very embrace-y. Thanks for playing, though!”
Lady Gisela shook her head, grabbing his chin and pinching it as she angled his face toward her. “This isn’t a joke, Keefe. And it’s time for you to stop thinking that you have any control over what’s about to happen. You don’t. There’s no getting out of this. You can’t stop it. And neither can you.”
She glanced over her shoulder at someone Sophie couldn’t see—but Sophie recognized the deep, weary voice all too well as Tam told Lady Gisela, “I’ve resisted the bonds before.”
“Not for this firm of a command—but let’s also not forget that I have your sister right there.” She pointed roughly in Sophie’s direction. “She’s unconscious right now. But I can wake her up if you need motivation. Or maybe it would be better to make sure she never wakes up again—and you can drop those hands right now,” she added, shaking her head. Her eyes shifted to Sophie as she called out, “Are all boys this stubborn and angsty?”
“Pretty sure they are when you’re holding them prisoner and threatening to torture their friends and family,” Sophie snapped back.
Lady Gisela shook her head again. “Don’t you get it? That’s a gift. Freedom isn’t always as wonderful as we want to believe. Choice comes with responsibility. With consequences. With guilt. I’m sparing all of you from that—yes, even you, Sophie. Why do you think I went to such ridiculous lengths to leave you completely powerless? Do you realize how challenging that is? You have five abilities! Honestly, if you didn’t insist on working with friends, I’d probably never be able to thwart you. But all those moving pieces and variables give me room to play. It still takes time—this moment right now has been months in the making. And you’re lying there hating me. Surely still trying to figure out some way to resist me—which doesn’t exist, by the way—completely missing the fact that thanks to my hard work, you’ll be able to go home tonight, comfortable in the knowledge that you truly tried your hardest and that it was simply an impossible situation. You’re welcome.”