“I’ve broken people like you before.”

  He was hired by the king. Of course, he had crushed people like her—it was what men like him did for sport. Sasha held the ball of energy in her hand, her stomach knotting from the effort of restraint. She looked down, feigning submission.

  “What gave you the biggest thrill? The fact that you could do it, or the fear you saw in their eyes when you broke them?”

  The man had been about to turn away, ready to let her go, but her words stopped him. His eyes scrutinized her now, moving from her bowed head to her bare feet. Sasha fixed her gaze on the tip of his sword, now poised inches away from her toes.

  “Who said anything about enjoying it?”

  Sasha shrugged. Her hands found the hilt of his sword. Before he could react, she stepped closer, grabbing it and tilting her head up to meet his eyes—yellow, the brightest she’d ever seen, flecked with green like shimmering glass.

  “I did,” she said, and released the energy she’d held back.

  The magic poured from her palm, melting the blade in an instant. She had expected him to recoil, clutching his burned hand in pain. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. The searing remains of the sword pressed against her stomach, the heat stinging her skin.

  “Fear,” he whispered in her ear, his breath brushing her chin. “I do it for the thrill of fear.”

  Sasha forced herself backward, creating space between them. The red-hot blade clattered to the ground, its glow dimming. Her lips curled into a dangerous smile.

  Sasha had enough of playing. He was a rat. It was time to stop this. She wriggled in his hold. Around the man a lilac shimmer started to spread, with its center coming from Sasha’s hand. Sasha licked her lips, drawing out his essence with her magic. It was an unusual strong color, the purple almost black. She bent her head backwards, and with one smooth movement she forced forward, releasing the entire pint up energy and knocked him.

  He fell to the ground without even getting the time to put up his hands to defend himself. Sasha laughed wholeheartedly. It poured out of her from the anger being released. She bent down and put her hand around a purple ball in front of the man. They had warned her of this man. She couldn’t understand why. It was an exceptionally beautiful orb.

  “Send my regards to the king,” she said. “And let him know—I’m coming for him.”

  Her words were laced with venom, a promise she intended to keep.

  The orb fitted her hand. Normally, Sasha would have traded it by now. Still, she just stood there in her mother’s kitchen, looking at it and playing with it. They needed this—they had waited a long time for a ball with such intensity. She forced the light inside her, and the orb disappeared from sight.

  “Any news about my sister?” she asked Ella.

  “Isaak found her.” Ella pointed for Sasha to sit down. She waited patiently for Sasha to meet her eyes again. “The king has her.”

  Everything collided in front of Sasha—the air left her lungs, and her vision turned black. Her mother took her hand in hers.

  “She is inside the walls.”

  “I will walk in and get her home.” Sasha was about to stand up and leave, but Ella pressed her hand more firmly.

  “Wait, Sasha, there’s more to it.”

  “More! I can’t take more!” Sasha clenched her fists. He had taken her other half. He had taken Ivy.

  “You have always been hot-headed.”

  “She’s my sister, and you know him. You know what he does.” Sasha spat the words out, fury tearing her apart from the inside.

  “I can promise you, Sasha, on everything this side of the forest, that he will not touch her.”

  Sasha’s shoulders sank, and she sat still. Ella never promised anything—and when she did, she looked at her mother, not knowing if it was good or bad news.

  “Tell me.”

  “This is a story I would have told you long ago.” A heavy sigh escaped Ella. Her eyes were worried when they met Sasha’s. “It was twenty-four years ago—the queen was about to give birth. I wouldn’t have liked her to come, but the king insisted. I had a reputation for never losing a child. So they came—to this side of the forest, to my simple cottage.”

  “They came here?”

  “I said it was the orbs protecting the cottage, that there was nothing magical about me at all, but they wouldn’t listen. Sasha, I did everything in my power to keep them from coming. But they came.”

  “So he owes you?”

  “For old friendship? No, Sasha, that’s not it.” Ella smiled, but it never reached her eyes. “No, Sasha, I switched you. I placed my own son—just days old—in the arms of the queen, and I hid you and your sister.”

  Sasha didn’t move an inch; she didn’t even blink. She tried to process what Ella had said. She couldn’t fathom it, and her words came slowly, full of distrust.

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  “My father?”

  “Yes, Sasha.”

  “He can’t be. He just can’t.”

  Ella patted her hand. She swallowed hard, but her eyes wouldn’t meet Sasha’s—they were fixated on their entwined hands, softly stroking hers.

  “You were so small, and it was so easily done. I—” Her mother sighed, not knowing how to continue.

  “Why?”

  “The king takes all the boys when they are five. I had lost him anyway. This way, I knew he would be protected.”

  “But that’s not all, is it, mother?”

  “No. That’s not all.”

  Her mother’s eyes met hers then—grey clouds against the storm of the ocean in her gaze. Her mother searched Sasha’s eyes for something. Sasha wasn’t sure if she found it.

  “You want me to kill my own father?”

  Sasha withdrew her hands. She hated the king. Everyone did—but he was... No, she couldn’t even think about it. He had her sister. He was a monster. He was not, and would never be, her father.

  “No one else will ever be strong enough, Sasha. I did what I thought was best.”

  “And why would the king spare her? How could he possibly know who Ivy is?”

  “She is a copy of the queen, Sasha. He will know.”

  “And when she tells who her mother is…”

  Sasha stood up. She threw her fist hard into the wall, and dust whirled around the room.

  “He will send someone over. They will punish you, mother!”

  “No one except you and Ivy could punish me, Sasha.”

  “We must leave. Immediately.”

  She couldn’t take it all in now. She had to process it. What she did know was that the king was unforgiving. Ella shook her head.

  “It’s already too late.”

  They didn’t knock on the door. They stormed in—three men, armed with drawn swords. Ella sat still, not moving a finger, merely smiling a knowing smile. The old wooden door had almost fallen off its hinges.

  “You!” one of the men exclaimed, involuntarily moving his head back as soon as he caught sight of Sasha.

  Sasha recognized him by his yellow eyes and white hair. He was the owner of her new toy.

  “You,” Sasha said as she began to gather her magic in a swirling vortex. The yellow kitten meant trouble.

  “You,” said Ella much more slowly, with an eerie calmness in her voice, “they sent you.” She chuckled.

  Sasha glanced from her mother to the intruder. Her mother couldn’t stop giggling.

  “What are you doing here?” Sasha asked. “I’ve already traded the orb. Got myself a nice price,” she added, picking up a golden necklace—a specific golden chain that had been lying on her bench, belonging to someone they would never dare to go after. No one did.

  “Sasha!” her mother called, slapping her hand. The golden chain clinked as it bumped against the fireplace and finally fell to the floor.

  The man Sasha had met just hours ago didn’t even look at the necklace. He shook his head, his eyes fixed on Sasha.

  “We were only coming for her,” he said, pointing his sword at Ella, “but I think I’ve changed my mind.”

  His smile was arrogant—so sure he held the upper hand.

  “You have no use for a simple apprentice. Let her go,” Ella said.

  Sasha quickly calculated her odds. There were three of them, and she had to consider Ella as well. She clenched her fist.

  “I can teach her to become a warrior,” the man declared.

  He closed in on Sasha while the other two men stood ready, their swords gripped tightly and their eyes darting between her and Ella. He moved around her, always maintaining about an arm’s length. Sasha gave him an evil look; they were still too close to Ella.

  “I can teach you to appreciate the feeling of fear,” he said, amusement flickering in his yellow eyes.

  “It will be hard to travel with the old one all the way back. I vote we finish this off now,” one of his companions interrupted. “Not worth it.”

  The man closest to the door—too tall for the small cabin and posing no real threat to Ella—lifted his sword. The man in front of Sasha merely lifted his hand in a small gesture pointing downward, and the men reluctantly lowered their swords.

  “I will take care of the old one myself.” He bent down, picked up the golden necklace, weighed it in his hand, and studied Sasha. “You want this back?”

  Sasha reached for the necklace he dangled in front of her. As soon as she snapped it, she felt the edge of his knife press against her throat. She hissed. She had expected an ambush, but he had still taken her by surprise. She flushed, her chin turning pink with embarrassment.

  “I think I’ll keep the necklace. Now, rise nice and slowly.”

  Sasha stood up, glancing from the three men to her mother. Ella nodded slightly—a small, nearly imperceptible nod. Sasha closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

  “I will kill you,” she declared.

  “I am sure you will,” the man chuckled, moving behind her and keeping the knife pressed against her throat. He shoved her toward the door.

  “You two, take this woman outside. I’ll take care of the rest.” He pushed Sasha outside. “And don’t make the mistake of letting her fool you.”

  Outside, the sun shone. Birds busied themselves catching food. Nothing about the scene suggested that the king’s knights were present. As soon as the man had pushed Sasha out, she turned around, bending down to grab the knife she had. Had she been wise, she would have run, but she couldn’t leave Ella.

  “What’s your business here?” Sasha asked, easily dodging the knight’s grasp. She swirled out of their hold. She had to get back inside.

  The two men drew their swords and circled Sasha. They were greater in number, but what they gained in strength they would lose in magic. She made a run for the door when she felt the tip of a sword under her chin—she had completely misjudged how fast the larger man could move.

  “She will just be trouble. What he doesn’t know will not hurt him.”

  “Argon,” the shorter man said as he stepped toward the one holding the sword against her. “We don’t kill for fun.”

  Argon pressed harder with his sword, forcing Sasha to stretch her leg and stand on her toes. She tried to outsmart him, extending her legs as high as possible, but this time she was the slower one. The sword had already dug into her flesh, and she felt a trickle run down her throat. This would be messy.

  Sasha smiled and pretended to go along with it. She needed time to generate her magic—it was a pity she had used so much already.

  She gathered the force of her magic into a concentrated spot in her stomach and let it flow toward her hands. It was enough; she couldn’t wait any longer. She struck upward with all her might. The man dropped his sword—it reeked of burnt flesh. Sasha pressed her hand to her chin; the cut was deep. She had no plan, but she had to help Ella, so she turned to grab the doorknob.

  Before she had time to open the door, it swung open in front of her. The force of the door struck her in the forehead, and it hurt. Her vision blurred. She took a step forward, trying to glimpse inside her cottage, but the door was firmly shut.

  “Not so fast, sweetheart,” the man with the yellow eyes said as he lifted her up as if she were a package of corn, and continued walking. “I don’t know you, but I think I like introductions before getting more heavily involved.”

  “May you burn in hell.”

  “Elias—and we’ve already tried that, haven’t we?” he said. “Argon, Ville, it’s time to leave, and quickly.”

  “Master, the old lady?” Ville called as he caught up with Elias’s brisk stride, though there was uncertainty in his voice, as if he questioned Elias’s decision. His two brown braids bounced as he walked.

  “I told you not to ask,” Argon argued. “You always think too much.”

  Sasha panicked. What had he done? Her mouth went dry. Seconds later, the sky burst into flames—red, blue, even green flames. Total stillness reigned; not a sound came from the burning flames, but they burned—oh, how they burned. The entire cabin was on fire, all the orbs hanging on the outside lighting up, and the smell was overwhelming.

  “What have you done?” she shrieked, her voice high-pitched in total panic. She pushed him with all her force, almost breaking free, but he held her back, his anger matching hers.

  Sasha began to gather what magic she had left when he put her down and forced a cloth over her mouth and nose. She caught the smell of drugs and felt a hard blow to the head before her whole world went black.