‘I smell your blood,’ sang a woman’s voice inside her head, hollow and distant, everywhere and nowhere at the same time. ‘It is mine.’

  Startled, Keira felt the spirit of Helena stretch into every limb, attaching to every nerve. One minute, it was as if the possession stretched into an infinite amount of time; she could feel every agonising part of it, like an adolescent’s growth spurt. The next, it seemed to move at high speed and it was over. So impossibly fast that Keira had a hard job gathering whether or not it had been her imagination and she was still the same as before.

  But when her body cracked its neck, she knew it was not her who had asked it to, and when she spoke, it was not her voice that came out.

  ‘Why have you called upon me?’ Saint Helena asked Makenna through Keira’s lips, her voice mythical, like lark song at sunrise.

  ‘The Tyrant Emperor – he has returned,’ Makenna said, her voice breathless and her cheeks drained of colour as she tentatively bowed her head, exposing the back of her neck in surrender.

  ‘We called upon you through the blood of your heir,’ said a feeble voice, and Keira – Helena – twirled towards it, sucked in a breath, and stared at Isolde gazing back at her from her bed. ‘We need you to…put things right. To bring…Aeros to the Realm of the Dead with you…where he belongs.’

  ‘Release me,’ hissed the saint.

  ‘Can we trust you?’ wheezed Isolde.

  ‘It is not I that should prove myself worthy of trust.’

  If Keira could have controlled her body, she would have stiffened, remembering what Isolde had said. She had betrayed Helena. An image flashed before her, seen through the eyes of a woman resting in a plump bed in a gilded chamber, gazing at Isolde, looking much like she did now, with a baby in her arms. ‘Trust me,’ she said, and the image disappeared.

  As if she had been thinking of the same moment, the present Isolde turned her gaze to Makenna and nodded.

  Without hesitating, Makenna stretched her leg across the markings on the floor, then broke the circle, pulling the onyx sand with her foot. Instantly, Helena moved outside, striding towards Isolde. Makenna shifted as if to step before her, but Isolde motioned for her to stay in her place.

  Stopping before Isolde, Helena merely stared her down for the longest time without a word. Within, Keira could feel the ebb and flow of anger, hurt, more wrath, and a faint, faint trace of something warm. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In the village,’ Isolde said. ‘Keira will guide you.’

  Quiet. When Helena spoke again, it was without emotion, without wrath and without grief. ‘Your day will come, Gale, Djinn of Gluttony.’

  Isolde nodded. ‘But that day is not today.’

  They raced through the woods like Keira could only imagine the djinns and Woodland Witches had done before them. The further they went and the closer they came to E’Frion, the more Helena recalled old memories, all of them flashing before Keira’s eyes. Some of Helena and the emperor. Some of Helena and Isolde. And some, to Keira’s dread, of Helena and Elijah.

  Mentally, Keira shut her eyes against the image of Helena and Elijah sharing a tender kiss beside his four-poster bed, and then another of the obvious desperation marring his face as he burst through the doors in Helena’s last moments.

  As Helena thought of him, that same warm feeling as before bubbled up inside Keira, yet even stronger, and for a moment, her own envy and jealousy rose to meet it.

  What would Helena do if she realised Elijah was alive too? Would she take Keira’s body to be with him? Would Elijah allow it? Would she spend the rest of her life, screaming against another woman’s consciousness, only to remain voiceless, buried at the back of someone’s mind?

  Could Helena read Keira’s mind even as she wondered these things?

  Indignant ire and fear rose within her like bile, threatening to choke her, when she shook her senses and refocused her attention on the road ahead, realising they had reached E’Frion.

  The village was in complete chaos.

  All around, villagers were either fighting over something, fighting one another, or bawling their eyes out while seated on the ground, banging their fists against it. Some witches ran between them and pulled them into houses, as if that could protect them from the influence of the djinns perched on rooftops. Other witches tried to shoot the djinns down, nocking their arrows and taking aim, but the djinns merely dodged their attacks.

  Two djinns moved their fingers like puppet masters, and as their fingers moved, so did the villagers. The witches found themselves forced to avoid blows from villagers and disarm them instead, struggling not to harm them in the process.

  From the corner of her eye, Keira could see the dark-skinned djinn strolling away from it all. A trail of men and ladies followed in his wake with slack and dreamy expressions of indolence.

  They’re affecting them, Keira thought as Helena walked their body into the village. Like Elijah had affected the Eleionomaes.

  ‘Yes,’ came Helena’s voice in response, and Keira nearly jumped out of her skin.

  Can you hear me?

  ‘The Cardinal Seven each manipulate others with the vice that matches their individual natures. It is how they won wars and laid waste to courts. If you harbour their vice, they will latch onto it.’ Her words hung heavy and full of meaning, and Keira realised then why her envy and wrath had felt so intense only a moment ago. ‘And, yes,’ her voice rang inside Keira’s head, stoking her growing fire of discomfort. ‘I know Elnatan is here. But I will not stay for him. I would not have then; I will not now. They are not meant to be loved, these djinns.’

  This had Keira brighten and bristle at the same time, but before she could ask what Helena meant with her last words, there was a cry of war, and Helena spun just in time, skirt swinging, to avoid being skewed through with a staff by Miles.

  He pulled it around and swung it again, violently and uncoordinatedly, his eyes unfocused as if he could neither see nor act within reason.

  Biding her time, Helena grasped the wooden stick, pulled Miles off-balance, then knocked him over the head with the end of it. With a thump, he collapsed on the ground, his brown curls in disarray over his unconscious face.

  A low chuckle sounded from the depths of an alley under the shades of trees, and a young man stepped into the light, his green eyes lit with malice.

  ‘So much envy in these human hearts of yours, it almost makes you all too easy to manipulate.’

  ‘You’re one to talk,’ answered Helena, straightening Keira’s back. ‘As I recall, you were always seething with it, Adrien.’

  The young man lost his countenance, but only for a second before his lips curled with a hiss. ‘Helena.’

  ‘Have you no better things to do than play the trickster god in your brothers’ shadow?’

  He snarled, glaring at her from under a heavy fringe of black hair. Ink rays ran up his neck from his shoulder. ‘Elnatan made sure I don’t.’ He stepped forward. ‘Do you know? Do you know what he did to me? What he did to her?’

  Helena didn’t answer. The man’s features darkened with bitter revenge staining his beautiful green eyes.

  ‘He will know what it’s like.’ He made to move towards them, staring her down as if he could see beyond Helena, to the depths of Keira’s soul within. But Helena held up her hand in warning.

  ‘She still waits, Adrien.' This made him pause. ‘If you want to be better than them, be better. Go see her. Leave the dark. Seek the light.’

  ‘She…she lives?’

  Helena nodded. ‘She still waits. Don’t let it be in vain.’

  Keira did not know whom they spoke about. She had expected Adrien to be doubtful, to demand proof. Instead, his countenance was already slipping with surprise, desperation, and something else…

  Hope. She saw hope in his eyes.

  ‘If you lie,’ the Djinn of Envy hissed, already retreating into the shadows, ‘I will destroy this world and everything in it.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Helena said, but Adrien was already gone.

  What was that about?

  ‘It’s not my story to tell,’ Helena answered, her voice low and contemplative. Sad. ‘Come. We must find Aeros.’

  Someone groaned and Helena swirled, staring down at Miles taking to his head, his expression fazed and disoriented.

  When his eyes cleared on Keira’s face, he inhaled sharply and spluttered frantic incoherent words. ‘Keira! I’m sorry – I couldn’t – demons! It was like something had taken over my body!’

  Bewildered, Keira watched him plead for her forgiveness, but before his panic could escalate, she was on her knees, imploring him to keep calm. To her surprise, it was her own voice that came out, and her own thoughts that controlled her muscles, as if Helena had simply handed her the reins. It eased something in her chest, and she realised how anxious she truly had been about Helena controlling her body. No doubt, Miles must have felt something of the same when a djinn controlled him.

  ‘Miles,’ Keira urged. ‘Focus, please. Miles, did you see a tall, dark-haired man enter the village? Someone who didn’t look like he belonged?’

  Miles stilled and dipped his chin, staring wide-eyed at her. ‘He was like a king of old, followed by his court. One minute everything was as it used to be, the road empty. The village quiet. The next they were there and then…chaos.’

  ‘Did you see where he went?’

  ‘To the Thornfells,’ Miles breathed. ‘To the manor.’

  ‘I need to go,’ Keira said, rising to her feet.

  ‘I’m coming with you!’

  Keira turned with a protest on her lips, but Miles beat her to it.

  ‘He is my love too, Keira,’ he said, mistaking her urgency for concern over August. ‘And I might never be able to touch him, I won’t ever be able to marry him like you or any other girl can, but at the very least I can be there for him.’

  Keira looked at him, suddenly wondering if this was why Miles had always bullied her and been terrible to her. Not because they liked the same man, but because she, in this sleepy, small town they lived in, was the one who stood a chance at getting him in the end.

  It did not excuse the things he had done, but she understood now why it might have been hard for him to make it easy for her. Why he might have wanted to push her into setting her eyes on someone else.

  ‘Did you know?’ Keira asked under her breath. ‘Did you know what was put in my drink?’ The bullying, she could move on from. For the bullying, she could be the bigger person, or try to be, at least. But the tampered drink?

  Instantly, Miles shook his head. ‘No. No, I didn’t. I just wanted to poke a bit of fun at you, that’s all. I didn’t realise until I saw you. I tried to pull you out of the tavern, but you pushed me away and then there were so many others that gathered…then August came. And I hated it, hated that you were the one to leave with him, even then.’ He looked down at his shoes, ears burning with shame.

  She wanted to tell him that she no longer cared for August. That she deserved better. That he deserved better than to be pining for someone who would never be available to him. However little she truly knew August’s heart, that much she knew. The emperor had said so himself, after reading his inner thoughts. August had gone hunting the stag to secure a girl’s hand in marriage. If Miles was the one he secretly wanted, that would have been his chance. But Miles needed to discover that for himself, however…like she had.

  ‘Fine,’ Keira said. ‘But if things turn dangerous, I’m not saving you.’

  ‘And I’ll leave you behind if it means protecting myself or August,’ Miles said, meeting her roguish smirk with his own.

  ‘That’s a deal,’ Keira replied, feeling relief at finally having found some common ground.

  ‘Let’s go,’ ordered Helena’s voice, laced with impatience.

  25

  DIVINE FIRE

  Keira and Miles hurried through the village, passing villagers splitting into two groups and carrying weapons as they readied to attack one another.

  Keira threw a glance to the rooftops where the djinns of Wrath and Greed still sat, smirking as they pulled the villagers’ strings like marionettes. She was instantly reminded of her and Elijah’s game of chess.

  ‘Are they…using our people like pawns?’ Miles panted as they ran, just as the Djinn of Greed threw his head back and laughed at one of the villagers running a hayfork into another. Wrath narrowed her eyes and had the baker’s wife smash Greed’s villager over the head with her rolling pin.

  ‘It would seem so.’ Keira frowned. With a shiver running down her spine, Keira turned her sight upon Thornfell Manor, resting upon the hilltop. The sooner they stopped the emperor, the sooner they would save E’Frion. Whatever was left of it.

  The colourful landscape blurred as they rushed up the hill, and by the time they reached the top, both she and Miles were winded. Inside her head, Keira could hear Helena’s voice complaining about the physique of her mortal body.

  You’re welcome to get another, Keira thought as they crept closer to the manor. A humid tinge lingered in the air from a fog barely lifted, as if the sky was about to open and empty its rain. Autumn had truly arrived, and briefly, Keira lost herself to the idea of spending the oncoming winter months lounging before the hearth, wrapped up in Elijah’s arms. Her heart ached at the thought that she might never again.

  ‘Let’s get this over with,’ came Helena’s voice.

  The manor was a stately home five times the size of her cottage, with blankets of foliage covering its walls. Fine beds with lavender, fox bells, and white wildflowers lay scattered around a winding pebbled path, leading them through the gardens and up to the terrace steps. Sneaking closer to the walls, Keira and Miles stole a few glances through the windows until they found what they were looking for.

  Seated in an armchair in the living room, as if he were the master of the house, was the emperor, his poise still like a predator resting. On the carpet before him sat the Thornfells and the Merinos, with August’s arms wrapped protectively around Gianna.

  Miles stiffened beside Keira and she almost felt sorry for him, but not as sorry as she felt for Gianna. The petite blonde looked ready to faint from fear, trembling like a leaf in the wind against August’s arms. Perhaps certain in her belief that he would protect her when it mattered.

  Would he though? Even if he did, against the emperor it wouldn’t be enough.

  Keira startled as Aeros’ voice drifted through the balcony door standing ajar.

  ‘A union,’ he drawled, his gaze falling upon the youths. August appeared to crumble underneath it. ‘How lovely. Did you know that I once oversaw the union of your forefather? I sensed something familiar about you, but it’s more poignant now in the presence of your mother…’ He let out the word as if it was a slur. ‘Fae.’

  Keira’s mouth dropped open simultaneously as Miles’ fingers grabbed her arm to steady himself. So that’s why August could smell Elijah on her. He was of fae heritage.

  ‘Did you know?’ he whispered, but she shook her head. This was a secret the Thornfells would have been keen to keep, and judging by Mrs Thornfell’s expression, the revelation wasn’t taken as anything but an insult. Keira had to hand it to her: she was being kept a prisoner, and still she looked at the emperor as if he were mere dirt under her nose.

  The emperor remained unaffected. ‘Let me give you a gift.’ He leaned forward and handed August a dagger. ‘Better cut out her heart now, boy, before she gives it to someone else.’

  The Merinos gasped and Gianna startled, shifting away from her fiancé. August dropped the dagger, fear and shock marring his face.

  ‘Watch how she recoils from you,’ the emperor hissed.

  August turned towards Gianna, who was shaking her head, pleading with glistening eyes for him not to use the weapon. The distress in August’s features smoothed with surprise, then hardened. He picked the dagger back up.

  Before she knew what she was doing, or perhaps it was not even her doing it, Keira rose, walked over to the balcony door, and pushed it open, entering the living room. At her presence, the emperor shot up from his chair, his voice changing entirely, as if it came from someone else. ‘Keira!’

  Elijah! He’s still in there.

  ‘Let me handle this,’ answered Helena’s voice at the back of her mind.

  We must save him.

  ‘Trust me.’

  When Keira opened her mouth to speak, it was Helena’s voice that came through. ‘Aeros, it is I.’

  The emperor’s forehead creased, then Elijah’s voice sounded again, and the rasp in it cut through Keira’s heart. ‘Helena?’

  ‘Let me speak to my husband.’

  The emperor’s expression darkened with his voice. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve returned to you. To take my place by your side once again.’

  No! Keira thought, itching to flex her fingers, to block her lips with her hand. But she was not in control anymore. Helena was.

  ‘I ordered your death,’ Aeros said, his expression watchful. ‘I killed you.’

  ‘I betrayed you.’

  He watched her as she trailed around the armchair, coming to stand before him, listening carefully to her every word.

  ‘You thought you knew who I was, and then you found out I had lied. You acted in anger. You wounded me in return. I understand.’

  Keira’s conscience stung, remembering that she had done the same thing, made the same choice, when she’d discovered Elijah’s hidden truth. How it had hurt her to learn of it, and how she had hurt and tricked him in return.

  She supposed her pride did not fall too far from the tree.

  The emperor’s actions, however, had led to Helena’s death. What if hers would eventually do to the same to Elijah?

  They are not meant to be loved, these djinns. A sense of foreboding rose within her while recalling Helena’s words, and suddenly, Keira felt the clammy hand of urgency grasping at her throat. Helena...? She tried, but the saint ignored her still. What was she planning to do to him? To them?